Page 65 of Brutal Prince

Still fuming, I hunted the house for any signs of life and found two of my roommates, Ridge and Josh, in the kitchen making dinner which consisted of pouring cereal into a bowl.

“Did you two notice anything strange on the top floor?” Not that I expected them to notice since their bedrooms were on the second floor.

They shrugged their bulky shoulders. “Like what?” Ridge asked, buttering toast.

“Like someone climbing up the side of the house and breaking into my bedroom in broad daylight.”

“Ask Darryn, he was here most of the day,” Josh told me.

I felt a chill snake down my spine. “Where is he now?”

“Went food shopping,” Ridge answered, “about an hour ago.”

“Huh.” I was about to leave it at that until another thought occurred to me. “Have you guys noticed something different about him?”

“Like what?”

“Like he’s had a brain transplant when he went back home to Grand Rapids and came back sullen and unfriendly.”

“Still seems like the same guy to me,” Ridge exclaimed. “But you know, family can mess with your head sometimes.”

“Yeah, if it was family he went to see,” I mumbled, planting a seed of doubt in their minds. “Someone told me they saw him downtown when he was allegedly in Grand Rapids.”

“Maybe he’s on a secret mission,” Ridge joked.

“Did you hear Mathias got shot in the shoulder?” I asked them.

“Yeah, they answered together.”

“Maybe that was a job from the S and C,” I added the water to grow the seed.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Josh said quietly, since he’s one of a team of four that beat Jace Luxon to a pulp. Josh’s payment for that job was to have drug charges cleared.

“What?” Ridge snapped his head up from the frying pan. “You reckon it was Darryn who shot Mathias?”

“Maybe.”

We heard the front door slam shut and I stepped out of the kitchen to see Darryn armed with bags of groceries standing in the grand entrance.

“You see anyone break into my room?” I hit him without a hello.

His brow pinched. “No.”

“Sure you didn’t,” I mumbled, so only he could hear. “And I’m sure you’re going to pretend that you weren’t standing in the bushes in the University Gardens watching Gretta and me making out like a perv.”

His already summer ruddy complexion burned a bright hue of scarlet.

“Guilty,” I hissed, only for him to grunt something condescending under his breath. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear.”

“Nothing,” he blurted, turning his back on me. “You’re a fucking saint.”

As he stepped into the kitchen, I heard him belt out a version of the nursery rhyme, “You’re the king of the castle, I’m the dirty rascal.”

I almost lost my shit and went at him only to pause when the floor waved beneath my feet. A dribble of sweat poured from my forehead into my eye, blurring my sight. The old house was hot as hell in summer and freezing in winter. Even when the alumni spent a shitload of money on air conditioning, it made minimal effect. In case it may have been something else making me sweat.

“Idiot!” I hissed and he stalled, turning slowly around to face me. “That’s the only evidence we have to find the ringleader of the fucking After Dark club. So, keep your fucking mouth shut.”

“Oh. Right,” he winked. “Gotcha.”

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