Broken Empire (Boys of Oak Park Prep 3)

He made a noncommittal gesture with his head, letting me know that even if what I’d said was true, he still didn’t like it.

Elijah had found out about Adena’s little tryst with Mr. Cartwright, a history teacher and student advisor at Oak Park, a week and a half before prom. The guys’ first thought had been to just broadcast that information everywhere like Adena had done with the contents of my notebook, but it’d been Finn’s idea to let the witch hang herself—to give her the perfect opportunity to out herself publicly.

I thought he might’ve suggested it partly as a way of doing penance for the video the guys had compiled of me the previous year. It did seem fitting somehow to have it all end with another video, this one designed to help me eliminate a threat.

And unlike the one they’d used against

me, this one hadn’t been doctored in any way. It was just a documentation of words straight from the horse’s mouth.

“That’s the best fucking part about this,” the blond boy said gleefully, as if he’d been reading my thoughts. “She did this shit to herself. All we did was give her the opportunity. But she did it! We didn’t do shit to her.”

“Except drug her a teeny tiny bit,” I threw in wryly, and he shrugged.

“Eh. So we helped grease the wheels a bit. If she wasn’t such a raging bitch, she could’ve accepted her loss with some dignity and grace, even under the influence. Instead, she went full psycho on your ass. That’s on her.”

“Done.” Cole flipped his laptop closed and set it on the coffee table before leaning back on the couch.

“It’s out? All over?” Elijah asked.

“Yup.”

It was late. Although the live-stream video had gone out immediately, the Princes hadn’t been satisfied with leaving it there. We’d spent the past several hours holed up in Cole’s dorm while he uploaded the video to every platform he could think of, even putting up a dance remix version that I was pretty sure was going to haunt Adena for the rest of her life.

I smoothed down the skirt of my dress, feeling the knot of tension that’d lived in my chest for most of the semester unwind a little.

It was finished.

It was over.

Just like they’d done with me and I’d done with them, the Princes and I had played the long game against Adena. We’d put up with her petty barbs and bullshit, waiting for an opening—and in the end, it’d been worth the wait.

As often as I’d daydreamed about punching her in the face again, this felt so much better.

And Finn was right. She’d done it to herself.

“So, that’s it then?” I asked, looking around at the guys. “We’re done? For tonight, at least?”

“Not quite.” Mason’s green eyes glittered as he met my gaze, and a small smile curved his lips. “There’s something we still need to do.”

My brows pulled together. “What?”

We hadn’t exactly gotten revenge on Preston—although the fact that he’d gotten his ass kicked by first Cole and then Mason came pretty close. And besides, he was in the video too, standing there like an idiot while his girlfriend went nuts and confessed to fucking a teacher, trying to kill a girl, and sleeping her way into an Ivy League school.

“You’ll see.”

Mason stood up from the couch, draping his tux jacket over his shoulder with one hand before extending his other down to me. I accepted it and let him draw me to my feet as the others rose too.

When we left Clarendon Hall, I expected him to turn right to head toward the Wastelands, thinking they’d drop me back off at my dorm—but instead, the four boys led me back across the quad toward the gymnasium.

A few stragglers in prom dresses and tuxes were walking toward the parking lot, but I had a feeling pretty much everyone had left already, heading to after-parties off campus.

“Um, guys?” I laughed softly. “I think prom is over. And I don’t care that we missed most of it—it was still the best prom ever, as far as I’m concerned.”

Mason just shook his head, not answering with words.

I didn’t put up any resistance as we reached the large building, curious as to what on earth we were doing here. A kid pushed the door open and stepped out just as we were arriving, and I saw Cole press what looked like several bills into his hand before the guy slipped away into the night.

We headed through the door he had opened for us and into the large space. The lights were off, so the room was lit only by the glow of the exit signs. The elaborate decorations were still up—a crew would probably come by early tomorrow to take everything down and turn the space back into a regular gymnasium—but it was quiet and empty.