Page 20 of Fall

“This is your last warning, Genna,” Caleb adds, making the room feel even smaller. “When I need your help to deal with the trash, trust me, you’ll be the first to know. Now, are you done being a child?”

Her eyes widen, but she wisely says nothing. She looks at each of the guys in front of her and then at the rest of the crowd. When her eyes land on mine, the smirk on my face infuriates her. Even if the Knights aren’t mine, they’re not hers either. She glances back at Caleb, feigning hurt with her eyes.

“You’re really going to let her walk around and act as if she did nothing? Don’t you care about Micah at all? What if it were me?”

“Oh, give up the dramatics. Your political tactics didn’t work. Your guilt games aren’t going to work either. Your only value is what’s between your legs. You were chosen because you have good genetics to give him heirs deserving of the spotlight. I really wish you’d just learn your place.” Elijah scowls and shakes his head in mock disappointment.

Something about the way he does it riles me up, and I instantly have diarrhea of the mouth.

“For Christ’s sake, women aren’t just for breeding, you assholes,” I snap.

Taylor reaches out a hand to touch my chest in an attempt to hold me back, but I slap his hand away. I walk closer to Caleb, riding a wave of fury and keep going.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? She’s supposed to be your girlfriend, you prick, and yet, you let Elijah talk to her like that?”

He looks down at me, eyebrow cocked and a cold grin on his face.

Genna scoffs. “I don’t need your help, bitch. You’re a gutter rat. This is elite business.”

I snap my face in her direction. “Right, because you’re doing so well on your own. What is your goddamn problem?”

I close my eyes to try to calm my nerves. I don’t care what her problem is. I don’t care how these assholes treat other women. I swear, my life is some fucked up version of “Punk’d” that the universe just loves to watch. I need to get out of here. These people repel logic, and I’ve had enough.

“You know what, you’re right. You deserve to live your life as the lesser on her knees. Just leave me out of your play for queen.”

I move around Taylor to grab a sheepish Celeste and attempt to head out of the commons room.

“You need to leave Stratham and take your whore porn star with you. Our reputation doesn’t deserve to be tainted because the president wanted to be charitable,” Genna shouts at my back, making me pause.

“Please, don’t,” Celeste whispers, digging her fingernails into my arm. “Please… Let’s just go.”

Her plea causes an internal fight within me. I’m muddling through options, trying to figure out what the right thing is to do here, when Taylor comes up behind us. He gently pushes my lower back forward to escort us back to Emily Hall. Looks like he’s made the choice for me.

* * *

Taylor leaves us at the elevator and heads back out to do fuck knows what. By the time Celeste and I step off the elevator to head to our room, I’m a murderous mess. I can see her mouth moving, obviously telling me something, but my blood is boiling at full throttle, so I hear nothing but a muffled sound.

I’ve never actually murdered anyone before, but I’m thinking that Genna would be a good first to test my tolerance. It’s one thing to watch someone die, but it’s something completely different to take a life with your own hands. I have a feeling that I would enjoy it much more than I’m supposed to. But Christ, that bitch just doesn’t know when to back the fuck off.

I fantasize about all the different ways I’ve seen people die and change all their faces to look like Genna. Better yet, I wonder what it would be like to take my butterfly knife to Elijah’s dick. If I remove it all together, would he still be a dick, or would that qualify him to be an actual bitch?

I’m so enwrapped in my thoughts that I don’t even notice the large box in front of the door until I kick it.

“Shit! Fuck! Sorry, Cele.”

She shakes her head, picks up the box, and opens the door. “Those assholes are only going to get worse. Are you sure you really want to stick around here until Micah comes back? What if he never comes back?”

She places the box on the counter and goes to make coffee. I sit on a stool, place my head in my hands, try to clear my thoughts of murder, and search for logic.

“Fuck them. They’re not going to chase me away.” I lift my head. “Alcohol, Cele. I need alcohol.”

She nods her head, reaches into the refrigerator, and pulls out a bottle of Bailey’s.

“How about a little bit of both?” she asks, and I nod in agreement.

She allows me to wallow in my thoughts for a little longer while she makes us drinks. We haven’t even started fall term yet, and it’s already a shit show.

“Who’s the package for?” she questions, sliding onto the stool next to me.

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