A Gorgeous Villain (St. Mary's Rebels 2)

Thankfully, he does.

He raises them in the air, my whiskey bottle clutched in one, and says, “If I wanted to touch you like that, I would’ve done it by now. So you can stop losing your shit any time now.” He takes a sip of my whiskey again. “And while you’re at it, stop attacking innocent people, yeah? Not sure if they covered it at St. Mary’s but it’s not exactly how responsible citizens conduct themselves in society.”

“Oh, you think you’re innocent?” I snap.

His liquor-laced lips twitch. “Well, between you and me, only one of us has been arrested. And only one of us is going to a reform school. So you tell me.”

I fist my hands at his dig. I fist my hands and clench my teeth.

God, I hate him.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

I hate the fact that he’s bringing it up.

That I was arrested.

That he had me arrested.

But I’m not giving up so easily. “Aw, are you jealous, Reed? Don’t worry. It’ll happen to you too. It’s only a matter of time, trust me.”

He loves it, my answer.

I can see that.

He loves that I’m not giving up, that I’m fighting back.

The lines around his pretty lips loosen up. “Thank you for your vote of confidence, Fae. I really appreciate it. But until that day comes, I’d like to keep believing that I’m as fresh as a fucking daisy. Which is more than some people can say.”

How bad can prison be really?

If I kill him, I mean.

If I charge at him once again and claw his eyes out.

His pretty wolf eyes.

“Give me back the whiskey,” I demand again.

“I don’t think so.”

“It’s mine. You stole it.”

“You stole my car.” He takes another swallow of it. “I think I’m allowed this.”

“I will —”

“Since when do you drink whiskey, anyway?” he asks over me.

“Oh, I don’t know. I met this asshole about two years ago, who recently came back into my life like the plague. Maybe since then.”

His eyes narrow at my cursing and my heart starts thudding in my chest.

Thudding and booming and pounding.

Because of his obvious displeasure at my cursing.

Because he still thinks that he has the right. To feel any displeasure in the first place.

“Glad to see I still affect you like this.”

“What are you even doing here by the way? What about your stupid soccer practice? Shouldn’t you be utilizing every single second being the best soccer player ever? Winning is everything, isn’t it? That’s what you said.”

He did.

And that’s why he betrayed me. So he could win against Ledger.

Something flashes through his face at that, something inscrutable. “Why don’t you let me worry about soccer?”

“You know —”

“And you’ve become quite the expert now though, haven’t you?” he almost rasps and my heart pounds, pounds, pounds in my chest. “Cursing and drinking, breaking curfew to go to a bar.”

“If you thought you were going to find a good girl, then I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.”

“Tell me something, because I’m extremely curious to know. Where did you learn that?”

“Learn what?”

“How to pick a lock.”

“What?”

“Do they teach you that at St. Mary’s? ‘Breaking and Entering 101,’ or is it called ‘How to Pick a Lock in Ten Easy Ways.’” A lopsided smirk greets me as he takes another sip of my whiskey and continues, “That was some really impressive work last night, Fae.”

Last night.

Right.

I forgot about that. I forgot that I did see him last night. It wasn’t my imagination then.

But hold on a second.

“You saw me pick the lock?”

“Yeah, I saw you run through the woods too. Behind your school. I saw you get on an empty bus and then I saw you trying to threaten who you thought was an intruder.”

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

He was there the whole time.

“Oh my God! Were you stalking me?” I squeak, outraged and violated and so freaking angry right now.

I’m not sure if it’s my question that makes his cheekbones jut out in answering anger but his next words are brimming with fury. “I wasn’t going to say anything but fuck it. What were you thinking?”

“What?”

“What the fuck were you thinking, Fae? You know how dangerous it is, don’t you? Sneaking out like that.”

“I —”

Again, he doesn’t let me speak. “And then to threaten someone. Fucking dare someone who you think means to do you harm. When you’re all alone. When you’ve got no back-up plan. What were you going to do? If he’d actually taken you up on your stupid little offer. Fucking ballet him to death?”

I take a step toward him, stabbing my finger. “Hey, I know how to punch, okay? You know that. I’ve got four brothers and —”

“Yeah, and I’m guessing they don’t know about your nightly excursions, do they?”

“Keep my brothers out of it.”

As soon as I blurt that out, I know I’ve made a mistake.