Page 42 of The Knight

"Absolutely not." Cole's tone allows no argument, and his eyes are fiercely angry and oddly protective as he looks my way. "It's not worth the risk to her safety."

I quietly point out, "But what if it's the only way? Then it's worth it."

Lukas says, "You don't understand what you're up against, Brenna."

"Then tell me." Once again, frustration wells up inside me. "Tell me what I'm up against so Icanunderstand. Otherwise we're all wasting our time."

Before we can discuss things further—or devolve into an argument, one that Tanner will apparently watch with half-lidded, disinterested eyes—footsteps catch my attention, and a familiar voice calls out behind us.

"I'll testify if she will."

Chapter 18

Istare at Georgia's perfectly lined eyes, her sculpted face, the bright orange-red fire of her hair. She's dressed to the nines, apparently back from her date with Hass, but there's no sign of him anywhere nearby.

There's also no sign of the hand-shaped bruise on her cheek, which I know must be turning a mottled purple color by now. Whatever foundation she uses, it's covered up Hass's sins quite perfectly.

Except that you can still see the pain in her eyes, and the way she holds her mouth gingerly on one side, talking around the things that he did to her in the bright light of day.

"I know you saw what Hass did to me." Her words are for me alone, her eyes intense as she stares me down, sounding like she's challenging me more than anything. "You were there getting evidence against him, right? But something went wrong when you fell."

I swallow, unsure how much I should trust Georgia, but on the other hand: she already saw me there and didn't do anything to turn me in, to Hass or otherwise, so there's not much I can say to make things worse. Reluctantly, I tell her, "We had proof he was... breaking the law. But the SD card got scratched, and now we can't retrieve the data."

"Figures." She scoffs at me. "Youwouldthink that Hass could be taken down over some drug deal. Clearly you have no idea how much money or influence his family has, or you wouldn't even think it was possible. I can tell you right now, Ferdinand Von Hassell could buy a whole truck full of heroine and they would do nothing to him.Nothing."

I keep my mouth shut tight, but Cole doesn't. "He wasn't buying heroine, you absolute idiot. He was buying a girl—one who will probably be more obedient than you, since she'd be his slave."

Georgia's eyes widen, and she shakes her head, visibly shocked. "No way. There weren't..." Stopping, she realizes, "But the plane. I thought it was weird he wanted to meet his dealer there. I didn't even think there might be something up. He kept it all from me. Then he went home early from our date because he said he had a phone call with his father and their business manager, but it must have been..."

As she trails off, I stay silent, feeling a strange mixture of pity and resentment towards her. When I caught Hass being a shitheel to Georgia, she acted like I was the one doing something wrong by stepping up and threatening him if he didn't stop groping her even as she told him to stop. They broke up briefly, but she got back together with him, and made it clear with her stunt at the Blind Ball—and the thing with the wolves, which I suspect was her doing—that she viewed me as the enemy, not him.

So to have her standing in front of me, silent in the face of her own boyfriend's cruelty, offering to give me the one thing I need, fills me with a mixture of satisfaction and wariness. For all I know this is another trap—although a strange one, given that she could've ruined everything for me several times by now.

Cole starts to say something, but I turn and shake my head at him, and he falls silent. This is for me and Georgia to handle. It's a thing between two girls, full of loathing, coming to the same table to share bread.

"Why?" I ask her simply. "You didn't want to get him in trouble before. Testifying against him for abuse is a big deal."

She winces at the wordabuse,and I wonder if she hates being seen as a victim as much as anything. Georgia is one of the most feminine girls I've ever seen, from her high heels to her thick long hair, never without makeup to highlight her big eyes, plump lips, and girlish cheekbones. But she's never been a damsel in distress, and she never will be.

"I want him to pay for what he's done."

"That's it?" I wait, watching her, studying every expression that passes across her face. "You know that if you do this, you'll be helping me. And possibly putting yourself in danger."

"I'm aJohnson," she says, like it isn't one of the most common surnames in America. But I know what she really means: her father is a blue blood, and her grandfather too. No one is going to come for her. Not like they'll come for me. And, as she adds, "Boys like Hass may have everything, but they need to learn that they can't shove around girls like me. We'reequals.I'm not some slave he can buy."

My stomach turns, and the moment sours. Of course Georgia would see herself as above any other woman Hass is attracted to. That includes the girl who deserves so much better than to be sold to him and dismissed by Georgia as just another rival for his affection. Just when I thought she might get it, that maybe there's something in the middle of her other than pettiness, jealousy, and spite, she proves me wrong.

I need to stop looking for something beneath the surface of these blue bloods. Underneath they're all the same—when it comes down to it, they stick to their own, like wolves in a pack working together to slaughter sheep.

Even the predators know to only bite the jugular of prey. And I'll never be a predator like them. But I can work with them as a wolf in sheep's clothing, if they'll give me the chance.

"If you testify, what makes you think it'll take Hass down?" I ask Georgia. "After all, you just said his family has the influence and money to keep him from getting in trouble for a plane full of heroine."

"This is different." She raises her chin, and with one thumb, reaches out and smears the makeup off the edge of her jaw, all the way up to the place where her cheek meets her nose. Along the way a purple bruise is revealed, its swelling puffy and dark, and she winces even as she touches it. "He didthis.To me. I'm far more valuable than a plane full of heroine. I am my father's daughter. He'll make sure Hass pays for what he did."

I study her for a moment, observing the careful way she holds herself, so as to not stretch or press against the bruise. When Hass backhanded her, I didn't imagine it would cause so much damage.

It occurs to me, not for the first time, how lucky I am that my father never hit me.

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