Page 28 of Spearcrest Knight

“Oh, ouch, that one really hurt.” Sophie’s tone is bone dry but the flush in her cheeks darkens. “A dog, huh? Be careful, Evan, you might just cut yourself on the sharp edge of your wit.”

Before I can reply, she turns to Iakov. “Put out your cigarette or go smoke somewhere else.”

Iakov stares at her, and she stares back.

They both have a similar gaze, actually: dark and bleak. Watching them interact is like looking at two immovable statues facing one another. Iakov lifts his cigarette to his lips, takes a long drag, then stands. He’s the tallest of all of us, built like a tank, but Sophie never flinches, even as he approaches her.

I know for a fact Iakov would cut off his own hand before hurting a girl—outside of the bedroom—but my stomach still churns when he approaches her. My instinct is to stand, to get between them and tell him to stay away from her, but I push that instinct deep down inside.

Then, Iakov flicks what’s left of his cigarette with two fingers, shooting the glowing butt straight at Sophie’s chest. It hits her clipboard and falls at her feet. Iakov walks away without a word.

Sophie, her expression unchanged, crushes the butt under her heel and turns around.

“Leaving so soon, Sutton?” I call out lightly. “Got your fix of attention and now you’re done? I feel so used.”

Her head turns and she tosses me a look over her shoulder. It’s a look full of scorn and dislike, but all I can see when I look at her is another guy’s arms around her, another guy’s mouth moving against her skin. My body is raw and electric, as if I’ve just been hit by lightning.

“I could be staring at white paint drying on a white wall,” she sneers, “and it would still be more interesting than whatever trite shit is coming out of your mouth today.”

I tilt my head back. “What are you talking about my mouth for, Sutton? Is it on your mind?”

She narrows her eyes. “Why would it be when I’d get more pleasure kissing a slug?”

I bet she’s real proud of that one as well. Would hate her to think she landed a low though. So I give her my cockiest grin. “Good, because kissing slugs is the only action you’re likely to get this year, Sutton.”

She shrugs. “If you say so.”

And then she just walks away.

Sev throws her a dirty look and mutters, “Casse-couille.” He resumes his conversation with Zachary, but Luca’s eyes find me, no doubt amused and waiting to see what I’m going to do next. I don’t want to give him the satisfaction, but I’m too worked up to let the moment slip by.

Scrambling to my feet, I grab my backpack and climb up the steps two at a time.

“Where are you going?” Luca calls.

“I’ve got something I need to do!” I call back.

I don’t bother looking back.

By the time I catch up with her, Sophie is standing near the pastoral office in the Old Manor, ticking off things on her clipboard. That fucking clipboard. I grab her elbow and she looks up sharply.

The surprise in her face melts away, promptly replaced by irritation.

“What is it, Evan? Have you come here to subject me to more of your clumsy insults and awkward banter?”

“Clumsy? Awkward? Projecting much, Sutton?”

“I don’t have time for whateverthis,” she gestures between us, “is. So if you want something, spit it out. Otherwise go and find something else to amuse yourself with, since we both know you’re not exactly spending your time studying or cultivating your mind.”

“You’re on fire today, Sutton. Every word coming out of your mouth is a bullet.”

“If only.” She gives a sigh full of fake wistfulness. “If my words could kill, you’d die every day.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay Sutton, we get it, you hate my guts.” I smirk. “You hate me so much I’m all you think about. You hate me so much you dream of me every night.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snaps. “Even the monsters in my nightmares have brain cells.”

“Maybe you should try fucking the monsters from your nightmare, Sutton. You might be less of an uptight bitch if you got laid—even if it’s only in your dreams.”

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