Page 50 of The Knight

I'm bent over my economics homework at lunch, double-checking everything, when someone taps me on the shoulder. Across from me, Holly frowns—I've been sitting at her table for lunch ever since the disastrous fallout with Blake—and as I turn around, I'm unsurprised to see that Cole is the one standing behind me impatiently.

"You could come back to sit with us," he says, and I feel everyone at the table go still.

The other girls don't seem to understand why the Elites have taken such an interest in me, and I haven't been able to tell them. Georgia hasn't wanted me to, for one. Now that Cole is staring at me like I'm a vexing problem, not a girl he has a crush on, hopefully they'll understand that it has nothing to do with romance.

In an annoyed tone, he adds, "I need to ask you something. In private."

"You can text me." I hold up my phone, flashing it at him. "Or message me. You can even email me. Those are all private."

Tricia's mouth drops open, and Sasha elbows her until she shuts it. I can tell they're wondering why I'm back-talking Cole so thoroughly. I wish Hector were here to see this, but it pains me to admit that we'll probably never be friends again. He wasn't a fan of being lied to, and felt like I used him. I can't say that he's wrong.

Impatiently, Cole grits his teeth and says, "I need to talk to you in person.Now."

Looking over his shoulder, I see that Lukas is staring hopefully my way. Tanner seems to be distracted by the foreign exchange girl sitting next to him, practically in his lap—apparently he found a new toy, one to replace the fun he had with Georgia and the manipulating he did to Chrissy. I hate how it makes my stomach cramp to watch her touch his arm, then see him flex and run his fingers through her hair. I hate even more how terrible I feel when I glance over at Blake, who quickly looks away, his posture stiff and statuesque, face emotionless once more.

Privileged asshole that he is, Cole Masterson doesn't care about any of the tension or awkwardness I'll feel sitting at his table. He probably knows what happened between Blake and me—I have no doubt they talked about it—and just doesn't give a shit about its effects.

"Fine." Standing up, I reluctantly tell Holly, "I'll be back in a sec."

"Of course." She looks casual, even though I know it strains her to have Cole in my life, especially now that we're friends again. "Don't fall in a pit on your way over."

I laugh, telling her, "I'm sure you'll be able to pull me out of it."

Cole frowns at me as I walk over to his table. "What was that? A pit?"

"Don't worry about it." I keep my voice light, enjoying the fact that it bothers him not to know what we were talking about. "Your ex and I are friends, but I doubt she'd want me telling you her business."

"It didn't sound likeherbusiness. It sounded like yours. Did you fall and I didn't know it? Has anyone pushed you? The people we're going up against will be on high alert now that you've gone to the police, even with someone like Georgia testifying with you."

"Stop worrying," I tell him, glancing over at Blake as I take my spot at the table, whose face is tense. No doubt he's worried I'll tell Cole I know all about the Syndicate, and he'll get in trouble for his loose lips. "Georgia and I are going after a shitty teenage boy who's been suspended and expelled from multiple boarding schools. I'm sure no one will care much if we add another blot to his record. And we made sure the officers we gave our statements to were ones you recommended—not that I understandwhy.Care to tell me?"

Yet again he stiffens up, annoyance passing over his face. "You've been at Coleridge for months now. Haven't you learned that there are advantages to having connections? Some officers are better at this than others."

"Yeah, well—" My voice is cut off by the sound of my phone ringing, something unallowed in the halls of Coleridge. Annoyed, I pull it out and glance at the screen; the first six numbers are familiar. "It's the police precinct."

"Well, pick it up then. I'm waiting."

"We're not supposed to take phone calls on campus, especially during class time or lunch."

"You're standing next to me. You won't get in trouble."

That isn't exactly true, and it doesn't thrill me if it is, but I answer the phone anyway. After all, getting a demerit mark is nothing next to the hope that Hass might be arrested. "Hello?"

"Brenna Wilder?"

"This is she."

"This is Officer Munez. The District Attorney just called me. They want to press charges against Ferdinand Von Hassell. And they want to hear more about what you witnessed. Care to come down to the station?"

* * *

It all goes by in a blur, faster than I thought possible. Like a boulder rolling down a sheer mountain face, it picks up steam the closer it gets to the end, falling faster and faster, threatening to create an avalanche.

By the time Georgia and I make it back to campus, Hass is being arrested.

I see the red and blue lights first. Georgia lets out a string of curses. "Fuckshitohmygoddamnit." She looks over at me, eyes wide, seeking reassurance. "We're gonna live through this, right?"

For the first time, I ask her, "Do you know what we're up against?"

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