Page 77 of Spearcrest Knight

Safe was the last thing I felt when he kissed my neck and licked my nipples and sucked on my thighs. The sudden memory of my brutal orgasm at the tip of his tongue flares in my mind like a war flashback.

I groan and slam the clipboard down over my face. So much for staying under the radar and getting through this year with as few complications as possible. So much for careful planning and stringently faultless behaviour.

Voices reach me and I peer around the archway. My heart drops like a sack of rocks through me, an almost sickening sensation.

Strolling down the path under the anaemic snowfall, the Young Kings are approaching. Some girls accompany them—girls who have relentlessly mocked me throughout my time at Spearcrest: Giselle, Seraphina Rosenthal and her roommate, Camille Ferrera. They all chat and laugh, projecting good cheer and arrogant amusement.

My eyes find Evan like there’s a spotlight shining right on him. He’s the only one not wearing a coat (of course) and he’s walking with his arm slung over Zachary Blackwood’s shoulders. Easy laughter flows from him, and whatever he’s saying seems to amuse Blackwood too, because the granite of his austere face is cracked by a rare smile.

I retreat behind the archway. My heart is slamming against my rib cage, probably desperate to escape and start a new life somewhere far away. I know what Ishoulddo to deal with this situation. What Ishoulddo is stand there with my clipboard and my down-turned eyes, let whatever unkind comments the Young Kings and their companions want to level my way slip right off me like water off a duck’s back, avoid all eye contact and let the moment become just another tragic memory.

This is what Ishoulddo. This is what Iwoulddo if I hadn’t made out with one of those stupid so-called Young Kings.

But what I do instead is dive through the nearest doorway and skitter like a startled mouse down the corridor leading to the backstage cupboard where spare tables and podiums and music stands are stored.

I crouch in a darkened corner, hugging my clipboard to my chest. There’s only one thing left for me to do now: wallow in the murky swamp of shame and humiliation my life has become.

How have I ended up like this?

Because I’m a fucking idiot who obviously doesn’t learn from her mistakes. Because—

“Sutton.” I freeze at the sound of his voice, clutching my clipboard so tight the edges dig painfully into my fingers. “I fucking know you’re in here.”

The door opens and I jump to my feet, refusing to be caught crouching in the dark like some cowering animal. I back away quietly, praying the shadows and towers of chairs and furniture will offer me asylum and conceal me from the predator slowly prowling through the door.

I hear his slow footsteps, then the door closing with a dry click.

“Don’t make me look for you, Sutton. It won’t end well.”

This isn’t going to end well regardless of what I do—but I may as well get it over with. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and emerge from my hiding place.

So much for avoiding Evan and leaving Spearcrest without ever seeing him again.

He stands in the dim square of light cast by the small dusty window high in the wall. Gone is the easy laughter, the careless grin. His blue eyes look sharp, not summery, almost cutting in the grey light. His face is pale, the muscles of his jaw twitch, betraying the tension within.

In the space between us stretches everything binding us—everything keeping us apart: our old friendship, so quickly destroyed, every cruel word he’s ever spoken, years of mockery and insults and pain, resentment, humiliation, hatred.

But now we’re facing each other in the darkness, there’s something else between us—something new. Something wild and smouldering, something volatile and terrifying.

Something that makes my breath catch and heat trickle through my body like liquid fire.

“What do you want, Evan?” I ask finally.

I don’t want him to realise how nervous I am, but my voice comes out pathetically low. He steps forward, narrowing the distance between us.

“I want to talk.”

My heart is beating fast and loud, drowning out my own thoughts. Panic sets in, making my breath come out in halting puffs. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

He lets out a cold, hollow laugh. My neck prickles at the sound. This isn't the Evan I'm used to, carefree and cruel. This is something different. I've hated Evan before, but I've never been afraid of him. Now, I have the sudden, electrifying sense of being in danger. I need to leave, and fast.

“I need to go now,” I say stiffly, brandishing my clipboard like a weapon. “I have to take the reg—”

He yanks the clipboard out of my hand and tosses it aside. In that split moment of distraction, I take my chances. I dash past him in a desperate bid for the door. His arm flashes out, catching me by my waist and spinning me around. He slams my back to the door and pins me to it with his arms framing my head.

His body isn’t close enough to touch, but it’s close enough for the heat of him to radiate against me. I look up at him breathlessly, wishing we were still the same height, wishing he weren’t this strong.

“You fucking coward,” he says, low and husky and hateful.

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