Silence fills the room, and there’s a heaviness in the air. Mr. Lancaster turns his gaze on each of us as if he can pick out all those who are troublemakers, and those who are studious.
“Will you tell us about the history of Guild Hall and the Sovereign?” One of the students in front of the class questions, his hand in the air.
Mr. Lancaster clears his throat, his hand in front of his mouth, hiding what I can only guess is a smile because the corners of his eyes crinkle. “Those are fairytales, but if you’re good little boys and girls, I may tell you.”
His gaze roves over the class as if he’s mentally checking each of our names off a list. But it’s his expression that only seems to confirm my suspicions that he has to be Ares’ father. And I’m proven correct in my assumption when he continues.
“My name is Abner Lancaster, this school, the house on the hill where most of you partied last night, is my legacy.” He offers a quick glance at Ares, and I’m sure he isn’t happy about finding his house in tatters this morning.
He turns toward the blackboard, picking up a piece of chalk. He writes down the name of the school along with his name. While his back is turned, I take him in, broad shoulders and torso, which taper down into narrowed hips. His black slacks are tight around his ass and thighs, and I can’t stop myself from staring. For an older man, there’s something magnetic about him.
“He’s hot,” Rukaiya whispers again, her words making my cheeks heat as he turns at that second and pins us with a sharp glare.
“Is there something you’d like to tell the class, miss…” he watches my best friend, waiting for her to respond.
“It’s Miss Harrison,” she sasses, “and I was just telling my friend, Miss Milton, over here, how excited I am to be in your class, Sir.” The blatant lie has Abner narrowing his gaze at her as if reading all her dirty thoughts about him. Because, if I know my best friend, there are some sordid images in her head right now. For a moment, I wonder if he’s going to call her out as silence hangs in the air around us.
“Thank you,” he finally responds, then turns toward the projection system, which he flicks on. The bright light shines on the white wall beside the board, and he turns to Ares. “Lights.”
Once the classroom has been drenched in darkness, an image appears on the wall, a photo of the house we were in last night. But this was taken a long time ago if the sepia tone is anything to go by.
“You wanted a history lesson on the school,” Abner says, “well sit back. For our first lesson, I’ll take it easy on you. Tomorrow, if I’m in a good mood, I might give you a pop quiz.” He informs us with a satisfied smile, and I have to admit, he is handsome. I can see where Ares gets his looks from.
My gaze flits to the younger man in question who I find watching me intently. He doesn’t look away when our gazes lock, and I hold his for a moment before turning my attention to the photo in an attempt to focus, even though I know it’s futile. When Ares is around, nothing makes sense. Least of all my stupid fluttering heartbeat.
This is going to be a very long four years of my life.
11
Ares
I watch my father shuffle papers on the desk. He doesn’t look at me, because when he did the roll call in class, she offered up her name. Her last name stuck out at me, slapping me across the face.
“I want the go ahead to deal with the girl.”
My father glares at me from his seat where he’s marking papers. His gaze burning with frustration at me, but I don’t care. This is something I need. Surely, he can understand that.
“Dad, she’s right here, I can do anything to toy with her. She’s in my town,” I utter in frustration as he just looks at me without response.
It takes far too long for him to think about it before he finally tells me, “I know it’s Patrick’s daughter, but we need to be careful.”
“Tell me you’ll allow me free reign?” My question stills him for a moment. He has to at least consider this. I begged him to allow me to get my revenge the moment I became one of the Sovereign, and now I have the daughter of the man I wanted to kill right here in Tynewood.
“Let me think about it, Ares.” He doesn’t look convinced. As if he wants to refuse my request. If this were Philipe, there would be no question.
“Is this because I’m volatile?”