Page 15 of Reckless
Now, I…I found myself thinking things I never imagined myself thinking, wanting much the same. Jaz was changing me, but I had no idea if she changed me for the better or worse.
I didn’t stand there and waste time; I exited the room, standing beside Markus, who looked, for lack of a better word, bored. Some of my brothers liked what we did, others simply did it because it was our duty. Markus was…something else. There were some days when I thought he enjoyed it, but other times I looked at him and couldn’t read his expression.
“Finished?” Markus asked, his voice practically rumbling inside his chest as he spoke the word.
I nodded.
“Good. Let’s get out of here,” he muttered, and I followed him out. On our way, we passed a nurse who watched us with a knowing but unthreatening gaze. You didn’t fuck with the Scotts; everyone here knew that.
Well, except Jaz, but she would learn, if she hadn’t already.
By the time I snapped back to reality, someone else had sat down at the lunch table. Dante slid in the seat across from me, immediately reaching over to pluck some of the food off my tray. He had a habit of doing that, which irked me, but I let him, seeing as how, otherwise, this food would simply go into the trash.
Who could eat this shit every day? Not me.
Why did I waste time and money buying it? Well, before Jaz, it gave me something to do, and money wasn’t an issue with me.
I watched Dante shovel the food into his mouth like it was his job, frowning to myself. He was a very pushy guy, this Dante. I still had no idea where he came from, though. I’d tried to look him up, to do a bit of research on my own, and it came up severely lacking. Storm was clearly not his last name, but that didn’t stop him from occasionally referring to himself in third person as, you guessed it, Storm.
Yeah. He was weird.
Although, I wasn’t sure if weird was a strong enough word for him, considering.
“Our firecracker of a girl is back today, as you probably already heard,” Dante spoke, giving me a smirk that made me remember our encounter in the limo after the dance. I’d thought it would be strange, infuriating to see the girl I craved with someone else—and it had been, at first. But, as the moments blurred into each other, as I saw how her body had melted into his…I’d started to think differently.
“I’m assuming you already spoke to her,” I said, tapping my tattooed fingers on the table, waiting for his response.
“I’m not sure if spoke is the right word…” Dante’s smirk grew wider, and the way he trailed off left me to wonder just what the hell he’d meant. “Let’s just say that mouth of hers can be put to good use.”
Okay, I might’ve imagined stabbing Dante after that remark. But I didn’t actually do it. That had to mean something, right? Holding myself back when all I wanted to do was wipe that blatant, sleazy smirk off his face?
“The queen got on her knees to worship her king,” he went on.
“She may be the queen, but you are no king,” I spoke with a frown. He was indeed no king, nor was I. I wasn’t quite sure what we were, but we were not kings. Kings ruled, and though my family might have a say in everything that goes on in town, we did not rule it—and Dante? Dante was nothing but a stranger, a bastard who’d ridden into town just to fuck things up. I still didn’t know why he was here or why he had such heart eyes for Jaz.
They had history, that much I knew, or at least he thought they did. Whether or not that was actually true was unclear. I supposed I’d just have to get Jaz alone and ask her.
Before Dante could retort with an undoubtedly sarcastic response, Jaz appeared, sitting in the space beside me. She’d brought her bagged lunch, but made no moves to unroll it and pull her food out. She didn’t look too hungry, which I supposed I could understand, given what she’d gone through these last few days.
To say things had gotten crazy would be an understatement.
Her amber eyes flicked between Dante and me, and she took her time in asking, “What? Don’t let me stop you guys from talking.” She waved her hand through the air. “Continue.”
Neither of us spoke, both of us staring at her.
Jaz didn’t look too good. Anxiety was written across her pretty features, her full lips tugging into an almost constant frown. She was not happy to be blamed for someone else’s death, I knew.
No, I didn’t think she killed Brittany, no matter what the rumors said. Jaz wasn’t like that. She might’ve wanted revenge on the blonde princess of this school, but she wouldn’t go so far as to end her. Jaz wasn’t a monster; she was nothing at all like me, and that fact made me wonder if she and I could ever truly last.
Why would someone like her ever fall for someone like me?
Though I hated being the one to talk, I found myself saying, “How were your classes? Did anyone approach you?”
Jaz’s hands fell to her lap, and she looked like she wanted to cave into herself, to shrink and become so small no one else could see her. “No, pretty much everyone else steered clear of me.” A bitter chuckle left her. “They’re probably worried they’ll be next if they say anything to me. People have a habit of dying when they cross me lately.” At that, her eyes flicked to Dante, who just shrugged.
“I’ve been an enforcer for a while,” Dante said, grinning, “just not for you.”
“I’m assuming neither one of you knows what happened, then?” Jaz asked.
