Page 22 of The Demons We Hide

Part one was to disappear for a week—just long enough to drive them insane. Now that I’m back, the real work begins. They got comfortable because I made it easy on them. The three of them had me at their mercy. To make sure they don’t get too complacent, I need to be unattainable. They had me on their turf and on their terms. Now, it’s my turn.

Roquel whistles. “Girl, you are a lot more devious than I gave you credit for.” She shakes her head and taps her pen against the surface of her desk. Her lashes lower, but she continues to look at me from beneath their spidery web. “Maybe you do belong in Public. I can’t imagine that you were this way at that Prep school.”

No. I wasn’t devious at Silverwood Prep. I was worse. I was naive and catty. Maybe that’s why my friends and boyfriend were such shitty people. After all, what’s that old saying?You are what you attract.

“But…” Roquel’s quiet hedge has me glancing in her direction as she scans my outfit. “I think if you really want to make them sweat, you need to go full crucible on them.”

“Crucible?” I arch an eyebrow.

She nods, her lips twisting into a conniving little grin. “Everyone is already calling you a Scorpion slut,” she murmurs, bending closer across her desk. “Why not live up to the name?” Her eyes stroke the cheap, but comfortable sweatshirt I’m wearing as if she wants to peel it off me right there in the middle of class.

Dress like a slut? It’s an idea, one that might drive the three of them insane, and that’s my goal, after all. I lean forward in my seat, peering at the men we’re both aware of out of the corner of my eye. It hadn’t taken them long to switch their classes. In my old school, money talked. I have a sneaking suspicion that the same is true for Silverwood Public. The Scorpion Kings might not be obscenely wealthy, but it’s clear they have a currency few others do. Information. Respect. Fear.

“I’ll think about it,” I tell her honestly. She passes me a knowing look before adjusting in her seat and returning her gaze to the whiteboard.

The teacher at the front of the classroom drones on, his bald head catching on the fluorescent lighting and glinting a reflection off the ceiling. The bell rings, ending the period, and I move from my seat slowly, reaching for my new-to-me backpack—an extra Roquel had given me when I’d admitted that all my stuff was either lost in the fire or withthem.

Together, she and I stride from the classroom and down the corridor, heading to the next hall over. Roquel might have drifted away from me for a while, but when I needed her, she came through. I have to admit that earns her a lot of forgiveness in my books. She pauses when I come up to my locker and begin to twist in the code.

“So…” She hedges, her back to the row of lockers. “There’s another party this weekend, but after last time, I wasn’t sure if you’d want to go…”

I pull the door to my locker open and swing my bag around to replace the books inside with the ones I’ll need. “Where?” I ask. “And when?”

Her attention is stable on me, but I don’t meet her gaze yet as I make my selections. “It’s a Prep party,” she admits. “It’s a little different.”

My lips twitch, and for the first time in a long time, I feel actual amusement curl in my gut. “A Prep party, huh?” I finish my task and shut the locker door before twisting the lock back on.

“It’s at one of their football player’s place on the Northside, some guy with the last name Adelman.” I glance at her and she smirks. “Recognize the name?”

“Yeah,” I admit. “I do.” Breck Adelman had been one of Bran’s best friends and he’d always had a crush on me. I grin. “I’m in. If I’m working, I’ll ask Mads to cover my shift and we can go.”

Roquel’s smile lights up her face. “You know,” she says. “You’ve become a hell of a lot more fun since the Scorpion Kings fucked with you.”

I shrug. “They just showed me that sometimes you have to fight fire with fire,” I tell her.

Her snort as she shoves away from the row of lockers echoes up the wall. “The rumors this whole situation has started have gotten insane. Someone suggested that you’re actually pregnant from one of them.” She eyes me and I roll mine.

“I’m not pregnant,” I deadpan. Even if Lex hadn’t used a condom, the one good thing my mom had done before she skipped town was ensure that I had an IUD. Sure, it’d been when we’d still had health insurance and the money to prevent issues like teen pregnancy, and it’d really been to make sure I didn’t fuck up the family’s reputation—oh, the irony—but I’m grateful for it regardless.

“Ugh, Iknoooow,” she says, giving the last word far more syllables than it normally has. “You’d be puking every morning if you were or sleeping all the time, and you’re up before me most days.”

We walk towards our next class together and I ignore the blatant stares and trash talk from the other students. Roquel looks like she’s amused by it all—at least she’s not fazed enough to kick me out of her house. Her parents have been fairly absent, and from what she’s told me, her dad works as a trucker and her mom travels with him, leaving her alone for the most part.

The bell rings again as we slide into our seats. I cast a bored look at Gio as he grabs a seat at the desk in the next row over. I would have thought that the school would be asking him about the bruises on his face by now, but no one has uttered a word. They’ve faded from nearly black to a lighter shade of eggplant with sickly yellowed edges.

“Prep Girl,” he tries.

I ignore the call and fixate on the teacher, and that’s how it goes for the entire day. Each of the Scorpion Kings tries to get my attention in their own way. Gio is the most direct, similar to Lex, and the two of them are easier to hurt. I simply ignore them.

Nolan, though. Nolan is a planner. He watches and he waits. When I catch him staring at me over the cafeteria at lunch, I arch an eyebrow his way. Unlike the others, I can’t treat him with blatant disregard. He won’t have it. Even if it makes a scene, he’ll get what he wants—my attention. So, I give it to him without restraint.

I watch him every bit as much as he watches me, and with each look that passes between us, I can sense his growing tide of anger. When the class I have with Mads arrives, I’m all too ready to clue her in on the situation, but when I walk in—there’s no sign of her.

I wait, expecting that she might be running late for some reason. The bell rings, though, and there’s still no sign of her. Frowning, I look over at Roquel. “Hey, have you seen Mads?”

Roquel bites down on the edge of her pen and absently draws an invisible image with her finger tip on the front of her notebook. “Hmmm?” She blinks and looks back at me.

“Mads,” I say again. “Do you?—”

---