Page 35 of The Devils They Are

Chapter thirteen

Rylan

"Howcouldyoubeso careless, Rylan? I taught you better than this!"

My jaw ticks as I force myself to stay still, eyes glued to my father while he rants from behind his desk.

As hard as we tried to contain the social media outbreak, we weren't quick enough. And if the fact that Bexley fucking Spencer managed to embarrass us wasn't bad enough, my father is making sure to remind me of my failure.

We've spent the past thirty hours trying to mitigate the damage. Tai was able to wipe the videos off the platforms, but every time we pulled one off, another three appeared in its place.

People were saving and sharing the content, and although most listened once we started making personalvisitsto posters, the truth was… we couldn't stop it.

When I received a message earlier that my father wished to speak to me, I knew he had seen—or heard.

Max Astor is a proud, esteemed alumnus of Willowbrook, and as mayor of Ridgeview Valley, very little slips past him. He makes it his mission to know everything about everyone, and while he pushed me to this position, to be in power at the academy, he's taking great pleasure in reminding me that I've fucked up.

"I know," I manage to grunt out. "We thought we had control of the situation."

I thought I had control of her.

Truthfully, I agree with him.

We should have pushed harder. Instead of wasting our time pushing her limits, we should have just taken her down from the beginning.

Initially, we relied on the home ground advantage, knowing that Bexley wouldn't be able to do much in the way of retaliation. Setting up that meeting with Hunter's father, we had hoped that she would realize that any attempts of revenge would be useless—that she'd be thrown out of Willowbrook so fucking fast that her head would spin. Dean Lannister took no issue with involving himself, threatening her enrollment. I assumed that she would concede, since I know she wouldn't leave the Cedar Heights cohort on their own to manage.

But this—the ridiculous videos—was not something I was expecting.

Because the damn reality is… Bexley didn't take them.

She found a loophole in our schemes, setting us up for failure, knowing that no matter who someone was, people would always take pleasure in someone's weaker moments.

Sure, she stole from me, but how would I even explain that to the dean? There are no cameras in the locker room, no indisputable proof. And she didn't force my so-called friends to take videos and pictures. They did that all on their own.

Trust me, they are paying for it. But it's an uncontained virus now.

We can't even get her into trouble for what she did for Hunter. He was never meant to be near the room in the first place. The most we could do is have her punished for leaving detention early—but given we ordered Smythson to leave before the end of detention, all Bexley has to say is she left at the same time.

Regardless of the video evidence, Hunter provoked her. And Dean Lannister knows that if we spin it to blame her, the reputation of Willowbrook would be at stake. A poor, defenseless female, cornered in detention by a male after a teacher abandons her post. The media would have a field day with it. Willowbrook wouldn't survive such allegations—neither would Hunter or Dean Lannister. Their reputations are stellar, both prominent members of society.

And in turn, as Willowbrook community members, we would all be branded and tied to the actions.

Therefore…my father.

"You stupid boy," he hisses, infuriated. "Marcus is doing damage control as we speak, to ensure that these reports stay out of the hands of journalists. But do you understand what this would do to my campaign if word got out? It's an election year, Rylan. You know what's at stake."

I nod. "I understand. It won't happen again."

Dad stands from behind his desk, palms flat on the polished wood. "See to it that it doesn't. We've contacted George to see what else can be done but he's currently in Europe dealing with a criminal investigation."

When isn't George traveling? For the past few years, I can single-handedly count the number of times I've seen him in the Beckett residence. I envy Tai in that regard, whereas Hunter and I have the utmost pleasure of having our fathers breathe down our necks constantly. It's why I can't just cancel my credit card and get a new one. He would be notified and the situation would get worse.

"I'll speak to Dean Lannister tomorrow," I promise. "To see what we can do."

I watch as his knuckles crack, forming fists. "Marcus doesn't need your assistance. You need to keep your head down and remain out of trouble. I cannot even fathom how you let someone fromCedar Heights," he pauses, spitting out the words as if they contained poison. "Get the better of you. I'm disappointed. Do better, Rylan."

Sitting back down, he turns his chair, facing away from me. His dismissal is clear, and without another word, I leave his home office.

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