Page 82 of The Pawn

The boy looks over at me, menace in his face, moving aside just enough for me to see that the girl he's pushed up against the wall is Georgia Johnson herself. And her attacker is Ferdinand Von Hassell, her new boyfriend. Nausea churns in my gut.

"Mine your own business," he mutters, not letting her go even though she squirms against his grip. "She's my girl."

"I heard her so 'no' and 'stop' pretty damn loudly, so I don't care if she'syourgirl or not."

"Oh yeah? What're you gonna do, lecture me to death?"

In response, I pull the only thing I have that I could possibly use to fight him out of my laptop bag. It's a four inch knife Sasha gave me.

According to her, she'd reached the limit in how many she could store in her locker in the Coleridge Center, and weapons aren't allowed in Rosalind Hall. As she said to me, "I don't think they'll inspect your broom closet for contraband, but if they do, you can just say you got it to stab the rats you share your room with."

Right now, I'm very grateful she gave it to me as I pull it from its little sheath and wave it around in a vague attempt at intimidation that I hope Hass doesn't scrutinize too closely.

"Stop assaulting her," I tell him. "Get that hand out of her damn bra, you cretin."

He scoffs at me, so I advance on him, and with a roll of his eyes he gets the picture. "Whatever." Shoving off from the wall and frowning at Georgia, he says, "You're too much drama. Other girls don't pull this shit."

Then he bends down to pick a backpack up off the floor, which he must've discarded so he could assault his girlfriend. As he does so, his pants leg inches up, revealing his non-regulation lack of socks to go with his shoes.

And a distinctly familiar dragon tattoo on his ankle. One that, unlike the tattoo on Lukas's ankle, isn't faded at all—because he hasn't even tried to laser it off. Stunned, I stare at the thing, feeling unsteady on my feet.

Hass jogs out of the library before I get the chance to question him about it, which is just as well—I have no clue what I would've done with this knife if push came to shove. It's a relief to put it back in its sheath and shove it into my bag.

"Are you okay?" I watch Georgia rub her wrists, a distinctly unhappy expression on her face. "That was scary."

"Itwasscary how you pulled a knife on my boyfriend and basically made him break up with me." To my shock, she advances on me, shoving me so hard that I stumble back two whole steps. "You should've minded your own business, Brenna."

"He was assaulting you!"

She sniffs disdainfully, pushing her red hair back over her shoulder, which draws my eyes to the visible edge of a bruise on her neck. "Not that you would understand, since you're obviously inexperienced in this particular arena, but that's just what it's like when a guy is really into you. He can't always keep his hands off you."

"You're nuts. You told him to stop."

"And Iwould'veclarified that I wanted him not to stretch out my bra if you'd just let me finish." Her explanation is bizarre and nonsensical; she looked frightened when he was holding her, and didn't even speak up. "Now I'm going to have to make this all up to him because you got in the middle of someone else's sex life."

I feel stunned. After everything, I really didn't think Georgia would act like this. "You're welcome for the help," I mutter sarcastically. Because I can't stop myself, I add, "Next time your boyfriend hits you, maybe make sure it's not somewhere so obvious. I can see the bruise he left on you from here."

Panic flits across her face, followed closely by rage. "You're just jealous because you can't catch and keep a man."

"Oh, bite me, Georgia."

She snarls in anger, advancing on me, and for a moment I think she reallywillbite me. Instead, she shoves me again, hard, so hard I fall back onto one of the bookshelves and hit my head.

At first it doesn't feel so bad, and I surge to my feet, determined to shove her right back.

Then a dark, dizzying feeling closes over me, and suddenly I'm falling down onto the ground. Blackness closes over my vision.

The last thing I hear before I'm dragged down into unconsciousness is Georgia's smug voice. "I'm going to get rid of you, once and for all."

Chapter 44

Iwake up in darkness, being dragged across the ground on my back. There's a foul-tasting fabric gag in my mouth.

It takes me a while to figure out that the darkness is because someone has thrown a bag over my head. Though I try to squirm, my arms are tied up over my hand, tight grips on my wrists pulling me. There's a jolt as I'm yanked unceremoniously across some kind of bumpy rock or protrusion, and I make a noise around the gag.

"She's awake." A girl's voice: Georgia, I think, but the sound is muffled. "Just a few more feet."

The air is cool across my bare legs between my skirt and my knee-high socks. I can feel mud and grass beneath me, and when my captors stop and drop my arms, I roll onto my side and straight into a shallow body of water.

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