Page 10 of The Ruthless Note

And whose fault is that?

My fingers curl into fists. Dadandthe cops showing up in our morning assembly is far too great of a coincidence. Today’s crapshow wasn’t by chance. It was orchestrated.

Cadence, are you trying to be a bad girl?

My lips curl up at the thought. Jinx warned me that ‘New Girl’ was a fighter. And although Cadence gave me a ton of lip, she wasn’t doing much fighting before now.

Is she finally trying to do some damage?

I have to give it to her. For her first rodeo, this wasn’t a bad play. All her effort managed to leave a dent.

But is she ready for the consequences?

I head to the door, my legs eating up the distance.

Sol calls after me. “Where are you going?”

“To take care of a problem.” I check my watch. First period is over. Brahms should be leaving class by now. “Meet me in the parking lot at noon. I’ll drive you to your therapy session.”

Sol clears his throat. “You don’t have to do that.”

In a firm tone, I repeat myself. “Meet me in the parking lot.”

He nods.

“You still have your card for the practice room, right?”

“Yeah.”

Satisfied, I blast through the door. When I step into the main hallway, the flood of conversation stops.

I’m used to the stares by now, but it’s different this time. Heavier. Everyone knows Jarod Cross is our father and that comes with its own reverence, but to have Jarod Crossherein the flesh today, reminding them all of his brilliance? It inspires a different kind of awe.

I ignore the whispers, the stares—all of it. I didn’t ask to be Jarod Cross’s son. Most of the time, I don’t evenwantto be related to him. The way these kids worship him only makes me resent them more.

Don’t they have brains to think for themselves? Are they so blinded by money, fame, and superstardom that even scum like my father could rule the world?

My steps are sure and determined. I don’t give a damn about anyone outside of my circle. None of it matters anyway.

Where the hell are you, Brahms?

I keep my eyes peeled as I walk. It doesn’t take me long to find her in the hallway.

My steps slow.

My eyes narrow.

According to Jinx, Brahms spent her first month blending in at Redwood Prep. I’m still trying to figure out how she pulled that off. There’s absolutely no freaking way any guy with eyes could miss those legs.

I stare at those creamy white thighs with fresh perspective.

Those legs are the same as Redhead’s.

How the hell did I miss that?

My anger churns to life like a tornado of bitterness. I beat a path straight for Brahms.

She’s got her back to me, but it doesn’t take long for awareness to pull her shoulders tight. She glances around, noticing the way the crowd is shifting nervously.

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