Blair

“I don’t think anyone’s ever talked to Hunter like that.” Scarlett laughs as I link arms with her and Jack. We’re back out in the quad. I’m thankful that they’re in my second class with me, because right now I want to cry and punch something simultaneously. I’m going to need their support if these small interactions with my stepbrother continue to sucker-punch me. I ball my fists a couple of times to get the shaking to subside.

“Are we going to talk about how he called you his stepsister, or should we just ignore that fun tidbit of information?” She pauses and turns to face me with an expectant expression.

I sigh. “Fine. It’s not gossip-worthy, though. My mom married Andrew Ravenwood.” I pause and look at them, but they’re waiting for me to continue. “It hasn’t been so bad. Andrew is fine, and my mom adores him.” I look back at the building we just exited. “I don’t really know Hunter.”

I think of his room—of the postcards, and the anxiety medication that made him seem like a real human for an hour—until he and his creepy ass friends catcalled me in the park. I don’t know what I expected. Of course the headmaster’s son is the leader, and of course he’s kind of a bully. It’s disappointing, but not surprising. He’s a walking cliche.

Scarlett stares at me and twiddles her lips with her finger. “Rumor has it that Mr. Ravenwood threatened to kick Hunter out last year. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

I look between her and Jack. “So, he knows about Hunter and his…” I trail off. What, his reign? It sounds so silly.

Jack nods. “He’s the eyes and ears of this school, Briar. Nothing happens without Andrew Ravenwood knowing. But technically, they never break the rules. They’re just assholes.”

“So, you live with Hunter?” Scarlett asks as we begin walking again, changing the subject.

“I guess so,” I shrug. “He hasn’t really been around much, though. He’s out with his friends a lot.”

“They go everywhere together,” Jack whispers as we pass a group of students. “It’s kind of weird. So that doesn’t surprise me.”

“I’ve known him his whole life,” Scarlett adds. “He changed after his mom died.”

I don’t know much about Hunter’s mother—just that she died a few years ago. I remember Mom vaguely mentioning at one point that while Andrew did well for himself, seeing as Ravenwood is a few generations old, his mother was the one who came from old money. Hence the McMansion.

“Well, considering I live with him, maybe he’ll leave us alone now.”

Scarlett’s smile drops from her face. “There’s no chance in hell, Briar. You awakened the beast. He’s never going to leave you alone.”

I swallow. “They don’t scare me.”

Scarlett throws Jack a look, but I ignore them.

As we walk through the door to one of the other buildings, a few people glance in my direction. I adjust my backpack as we reach our pre-calculus class. I find us three seats in the back, and the final bell rings, signaling the start of class. I prepare to endure the class in all its boring glory, sighing and attempting to forget my run in with the Kings.

An hour later, I’m still in the what-the-fuck-did-I-just-learn mindset as we walk out. They agree to show me to my locker, even though they’re not really utilized now because of the laptops. Still, it’ll be good to have a place to store things. On our way to the other building, Scarlett begins to talk to Jack about something animatedly, and I’m barely paying attention. I stop only when Jack and Scarlett stop walking.

“Shit,” Jack whispers, glancing at the row of lockers in front of us. “We have company.”

I look up and notice Hunter leaning against a locker, glaring at me. How did he know I’d be here?

Something fiery shoots through me at that gaze, and I notice Ash, Ledger, and Samson standing near the other wall of lockers.

“Let me guess,” I murmur to Jack. “That’s my locker?”

“I told you,” Scarlett hisses. “They’re not going to leave you alone.”

I grind my teeth together and clench my fists. “This is ridiculous,” I whisper. “I’m putting my foot down.”

I stalk over to where Hunter is standing, arms crossed. “Excuse me,” I order, not breaking eye contact. There’s nothing kind in his expression, and his jaw ticks ever so slightly. A few people stop to watch us, their expressions stunned.

“You’re excused,” he muses, his face dripping with disdain.

My pulse speeds up, and anger flares through me. “This is my locker.”

He tilts his head, and his eyes flash with amusement for a split second. “Yeah. I thought that was obvious.”

Looking over his shoulder, I notice his friends watching me haughtily. Okay, so they truly think of themselves as the rulers here, then? They sure have the arrogance to match it.

“What do you want, Hunter?” I sigh, crossing my arms.

He chuckles, and the sound is both terrifying and thrilling. He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a few folded pieces of paper. Handing them to me, he gives me a savage smile before I look down and take them. Willing my hands not to shake, I open the paper. My heart thumps against my ribs, and a flush works its way up my neck.

Snapping my eyes up to him, I pin him beneath an angry gaze. “You went through my diary?”

My diary—detailing the inappropriate dream I had about him the other night.

He crosses his arms and shrugs. “If you wanted me so badly, why didn’t you just ask?”

Oh, the nerve…

“You wish,” I growl, getting ready to turn and walk away.

Just as I move, he grabs the hand with the papers and tugs me into his hard body. Leaning down, his breath fans against my forehead.

“Tell me, just how wet did you get for me in that dream of yours?” To my horror, he raises his other hand, and a pink, lacy thong—my thong—dangles from his fingers.

My mouth goes dry, and my heart wallops against my chest as I close my eyes.

No. No, no, no.

Grabbing my underwear, I twist away from him and turn to walk away. Tears prick at my eyes, but I take a deep breath. I refuse to give them the satisfaction of knowing they got to me. Scarlett and Jack usher me out of the hallway, but before I get to the door, I feel a presence behind me.

“I told him not to do it.”

I turn. One of the Kings—the one with the glasses—walks up to me. Samson Hall.

“He’s lashing out. Give it a few days.”

“You can tell him I won’t tolerate this shit for a few more days.”

“He won’t listen.”

I clench my teeth. “Why? Just leave me alone.”

Samson laughs and shakes his head. “The more you resist, the more interesting you are to him, little lamb.”

Hey little lamb, come out and play.

And then he turns around and walks back toward where Hunter is still watching me, and the four of them head off in the other direction.

Was he talking about Hunter, or himself? I certainly don’t trust any of them.

I glare in their direction, and Scarlett and Jack tug me toward the entrance of the hallway. I’m still fuming as I shove my underwear into my backpack. When I finally look at Scarlett and Jack, my pulse has slowed and I take a deep, calming breath.

“This is war,” I declare, ignoring the look Jack and Scarlett share.

I have a really sickening feeling that this is going to be a long year.

Andrew Ravenwood calls me into his office during my next class, which happens to be my favorite subject—French. We’re just going over the syllabus, detailing the class trip to Paris later this year, when I’m called into the headmaster’s office. Scarlett and Jack aren’t in this class with me since they’re taking Mandarin, but I scoff at having to leave, nonetheless. I sulk the whole way to the main building. 

I’d talked with Andrew last night briefly at dinner, and he was cordial, as he always is. I think he enjoys having my mom around, and he seemed excited at the prospect of doing family things together. I’d ignored the nervous pang when I’d realized he was referencing my darling, new stepbrother. I guess after three years of it just being him and Hunter, he was craving the true family dynamic again. I couldn’t fault him for it.

I push the wooden door open, and he smiles as I walk in. Now that I’ve met Hunter, I can see where he gets his looks from. Andrew is older, obviously—over fifty, though I’m not sure of his exact age. He has dark, wavy hair like Hunter, but he keeps his trimmed short. It’s flecked with silver, and his skin is a shade darker than Hunter’s—tanned from his trip to St. Tropez last week. His eyes are green, and his smile is just like his sons.

“Briar, so good to see you.” He’s perched behind his large desk, and I nod at him.

“Hi, Mr. Ravenwood.” Mr. Ravenwood? I’ve never called him that, but seeing him behind his desk, in a suit…

“Please, honey. You can call me Andrew. I heard there was an incident earlier today?”

Nothing happens without Andrew Ravenwood knowing.

I don’t know what to say. For one, as much as I like him, I still don’t completely trust men. After everything that happened, I just assume they have bad blood until they prove otherwise. Two, and maybe I’m just imagining it, but his voice almost sounds pitying. I assume he knows about what happened, and being a cognizant human, might realize my encounters with his son have been anything but pleasant. Still, I’m furious about what Hunter did. It was a violation of my privacy. So, I decide to go for the jugular.

“Yeah, there was. I think you might want to have a conversation with your son about going through my private diary.” I stare at him, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

“Right. My thoughts exactly. I will talk to Hunter tonight. We have a zero-tolerance policy when it comes to bullying here at Ravenwood, but besides that, he needs to learn to get along with you. You should feel safe in your own home.”

I nod. “Thank you.”

He leans back and watches me contemplatively. “Other than that, how is your first day going? Your mother and I were worried, after everything that happened…”

And there it is.

I sit up straighter and look at the clock behind him. Tick, tick, tick. “It’s going well, thank you.”

He waits for me to elaborate on that, but I don’t. Like I said, I’m not sure I trust him yet.

After all, I trusted Cam, too.

“Good, good. I’m glad to hear it.” He stands. “If you need anything—and I mean anything—let me know. We’re all a family now, and I hope you know that you can talk to me.”

Yeah—one big, happy family.

He gives me a genuine smile, and the ice inside of my heart melts just a tiny bit. I know he means well, and this is his way of connecting with me.

“Thanks, Andrew. I will.”

I head back to French, attempting to fly under the radar until it’s time to go home.

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