Page 32 of Freckles

My limbs tremble. My heart pounds. My body is at war with my head; one wanting to scream louder, one wanting to recant every word.

I flee along the hallway and slam through the release doors at the end, nearly colliding with Ezra, who wears his trademark smirk as he heads the opposite way.

He snorts when he sees me, shaking his head. “Are you lost, Chess?”

When I glance over my shoulder, Kincaid is still standing outside the bathroom, watching.

Ezra follows my gaze, eyebrows raised, amd his expression brightens with amusement. “Oh, do you need your newboyfriendto come to your rescue?”

His voice is mockingly high-pitched, and I clench my jaw, worried anew by the ‘boyfriend’ descriptor, wanting to wipe the sarcastic smile off his smug face.

“You made a video of me.”

He rolls his eyes, but his nostrils pinch tight. “Old news. Why? You want another go?”

I ignore the taunt and plunge ahead before I lose my nerve. “Get Kincaid and Alice off my back or I’ll take that video to the police.”

“Oh. Sad face. Unfortunately, since it’s your word against mine, the cops won’t care, darling. Not when I captured that eager grin on your face.”

“That look of disgust,” I retort, hands fisting. “And it’s not your word against mine, dipshit. We had a signed contract. You didn’t pay, and you filmed me without my knowledge, then distributed the recording. With an easy win like that, they’ll care.”

He doesn’t show the slightest hint of regret, and the injustice makes my fury surge.

Just because life is fundamentally unfair, doesn’t mean I have to put up with everything that comes my way.

“Aidan will support me.” Fingers crossed, though he doesn’t know the half of it. “He’s as appalled at your behaviour as I am.”

Ezra flinches from that more than anything else I’ve said, so I leave it there.

“Get your cousin and your ex off my back and we’ll call it even.”

I walk past him, keeping my head high as I stride back to class, breathing a sigh of relief when I make it back through the door, showing the pass to my teacher before taking my seat.

Even if it comes to nothing, I feel empowered after standing up for myself.

Ezra and Kincaid can both rot in hell.

CHAPTERTWELVE

KINCAID

The jobmy uncle assigned has me and Ezra in the concrete bowels of an industrial building on Saturday night. As the minutes tick towards midnight, we’ve almost finished with the man foolish enough to think blackmailing Lance Tana was a good idea.

His head hangs forward, a trickle of bloody drool dribbling from his busted mouth onto the floor. I struggle to remove the brass knuckles from my swollen fingers and when they’re finally off, I step closer and check the man’s bonds. Still tight.

I tip his head back, stuffing a balled-up handkerchief in his mouth. My lips curl in disgust as they brush against a trail of crimson spit, and I wipe them against his knee, avoiding the wet patch in his crotch where he lost control of his bladder a half hour back.

His eyelids flicker and close. He’s so far gone that he doesn’t even flinch as I knot the gag behind his head.

Anything he wanted to say to save himself will now go unsaid, not that it matters. My uncle’s instructions were very clear.

The last hour is nothing but theatrics, and this man’s lucky. There are worse things that can happen than a beating followed by your quick and certain death.

Granted, the death won’t be as quick as he’ll want it to be, but that’s the cost of doing business with unscrupulous men.

“Hurry up,” Ezra grumbles from beside me as I check the bindings again. “It doesn’t need to be that fucking precise.”

He misses the point that precision is just… better.

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