Page 59 of Poor Little Rich Girl

“I know, I know. I’m sorry I left you for so long.” I scoop her into my arms. She settles into her scarf position, her whole body rumbling with pleasure at my return.

“She’ll tell you a story of woe, but I swear I fed her according to your detailed instructions.” A shadow emerges from beside the garage door. My heart clenches before he steps into the light and I recognize Tiberius. I’m not used to seeing people inside the house. It’s unsettling, but I’m glad he’s been here. “And we played at least three rounds of hide and seek.”

The idea of this hulking cage fighter crouching behind the sofa while my tiny, scrappy kitten stalks him fills me with mirth. “Thanks for cat-sitting, Tiberius.”

“My pleasure. Anything for Antony’s family. Antony dragged me out of the gutter, turned me into a fighter, gave me a family. Dude’s like a father to me.” Tiberius claps me on the shoulder, and I nearly go flying. “Don’t worry, your secrets are safe with me, Mackenzie.”

I nod. I don’t like trusting this guy. But if Antony says he’s solid, then I trust Antony.

Tiberius opens his jacket to show me the holster and large knife strapped against his tight body. “Antony said you wouldn’t want anyone else in the house, but we’ve got men watching the perimeter 24/7. No one’s coming near this place without us knowing about it.”

I nod. “You saw the guy who dropped me off in the Porsche?”

“Sure did. He giving you trouble?” Tiberius grins, cracking his knuckles. “Name your torture, and it shall be done.”

“No. He’s safe. If you see him around, don’t shoot him full of bullets.” I pause. “Or the other two, either. I’ll send Antony photographs.”

Tiberius grins that maniacal grin of his. “As you wish. If you change your mind…”

As soon as I hear the maintenance door click shut behind him, I take Queen Boudica to my room and snuggle down in bed with her. She falls asleep instantly, her tiny face pushed up against my cheek. I call Antony to tell him about Brutus, then I pick up my diary and read it from cover to cover again, my fingers tracing the hearts doodled around Noah’s name.

The girl who wrote this diary was so taken with Noah’s dangerous eyes, she didn’t see the golden boy right in front of her. Now, that same girl had three impossible boys who tugged her in all directions, and all she wanted to do was save them all. But saving them meant pushing them away, and just the thought of it made my heart ache.

If Brutus is after me, this can only end in blood. I had to make sure it’s his blood and no one else’s.

I have more to lose than ever.

But Mackenzie Malloy doesn’t go down without a fight.

Mackenzie

I look forward to school on Monday with a mix of trepidation and excitement. On Sunday, Tiberius calls to tell me a package has arrived for me. I go to the front gate to collect it from him and find a brand new iPhone inside, with a note from Eli and his, Gabriel’s, and Noah’s numbers already programmed in.

Eli and Gabriel blow up my phone all weekend. Eli sends videos of his cat, Gizmo – a black-and-white tuxedo mix who loves sleeping in boxes – and Gabriel sends me links to bands and albums he loves. I make a playlist of Gabriel’s recommendations and listen to it while trying not to swoon.

A couple of times I find my finger poised over Noah’s name, the insane itch to message him twinging under my skin. I don’t succumb.

On Monday, Eli picks me up at the rear of the property. When we pull into the student parking lot, I notice Alec leaning against the columns in front of Stonehurst, sans jacket, a handful of his jock friends and cheerleaders surrounding him in a tight circle. The gaggle of bears and vipers who usually sit on the periphery of the group is nowhere to be seen, and other students seem to be taking a wide berth to avoid them. Alec’s face is stormy as hell.

He’s lonely up there on his pedestal.

Eli notices me watching. “We spent the weekend putting the word out. Alec LeMarque is canceled at Stonehurst Prep. No one except a few loyal fuckheads will go near him now.”

My hands curl into fists, and I miss the satisfying weight of my knife against my leg. I lost it in the desert, along with my phone and the last thread of my humanity. “I’m still going to claw his eyes out.”

Eli’s smile warms me from the inside out. “I’d like to see that.”

Walking to my locker with Eli is a new experience. It takes us three times as long because he keeps stopping to talk to people. Unlike Gabriel and Noah who breeze past anyone they deem beneath them, Eli always has time to comment on a teammate’s performance or wish the Theatresports team good luck for their upcoming competition.

Who knew popular boys can be so damn nice?

Who knew basic human decency is so fucking hot?

By the time we reach our lockers, I’m ready to jump Eli’s bones, consequences be damned. Then Noah leans against my locker door, and I’m momentarily stricken by the contrast. Whereas Eli is all Southern charm and fashion-magazine good-looks, Noah’s the bad boy with the fuck-you attitude and haunting eyes. Those coal-orbs fix me with a devastating glare. “5PM, library. Don’t be late.”

“What’s this?” I raise a perfectly-sculpted eyebrow.

“Your tutoring session.” Noah gives me one final, penetrating glare, then storms off.

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