Page 3 of Dark Things
By the time I look up from my notes, class is over and Aslyn is looking down at me with another smile. This girl sure does smile a lot. I scramble to put my books away and glance at my phone. I have twenty minutes before I have to get across campus for my Mathematical Analysis class.
“I’ll text you later to let you know dates and times so we can figure something out.” I don’t want to sound like I’m blowing her off, but I need to talk to Haunt before I can commit to anything. He’d need to be around for cover or a shadow. We’re hunting Mario Russo, who won’t blink twice at killing one of us if we’re alone.
She follows me down the aisle and we step out into the hallway. “No worries. I live off campus, too, my whole life, so we can meet in Saratoga proper, maybe go to Manny’s for lunch or something?”
“That would be great,” I say, a small smile on my face. We’re down in the front of the building in a moment, and butterflies wreak havoc in my stomach when I see Haunt leaning on a pole near the entrance to the building.
I wave goodbye to Aslyn and make my way over to him. He doesn’t look happy, but there isn’t a lot that makes Haunt happy—well, except for me. His black hair is blowing in the late summer breeze, and his forearms bulge from their position folded across his chest. His tattoos seem to come to life in the sunshine. They swirl up his arms and disappear into his T-shirt, a small patch of black smoke wrapping around the left side of his neck. Haunt is beautiful in the way a Greek god is. Everything he does is with purpose, even leaning on a damn light pole.
“How’d it go?” he asks, reaching for my bag. It’s something he’s always done, carrying things for me. At first I would get pissed, but now the familiarity of it calms something inside of me.
“Good. We went over the syllabus, and I met a teammate, Aslyn. She seemed nice, a little bubble gumBarbie, but she said my audition tapes were awesome, so I think we’ll get on good enough.”
“Teammate? How did she know who you are? What did you tell her?”
“Calm down, inspector. She sat next to me and recognized me from the videos. Not many people call themselves Reb and competitively jump horses.”
He looks out over the courtyard as we cross to go to our Math lecture. Always assessing, keeping alert so we don’t fall into a trap. My protector in every way even if I’m sometimes more badass than he is.
“Coffee, then class. I ordered on my phone so we didn’t have to wait in line,” he says, steering me over to the cafe with an arm slung over my shoulder. Students are all over, but I don’t pay them any attention. My only thought is not wanting to run into Colter or the others. Not that they would know who I am.
After Haunt grabs our order, we make it across the courtyard before hard planed muscles bump into me. My coffee falls to the floor and splashes all over my feet. I jerk back, ready to slam my fist into the person who bumped into me, but freeze.
“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry,” the guy says, and a tremor creeps up my spine. I look up from my coffee-soaked boots and stare into the eyes of my past. I get lost for a second, letting the amber suck me in like he did all those years ago.
A low growl comes out of Haunt, snapping me out of it, and I put my hand on his forearm to stop himfrom saying anything else. We can’t afford a scene, and I don’t trust myself to not partake in the chaos.
“It’s fine,” I grit out, looking at what used to be one of the missing pieces of my soul. Colter Shultz stands before me, brows wrinkled. Brooks Templeton and Stafford Fitzgerald stand further back, but none look at me with the slightest recollection of who I am. I should be glad they don’t know it’s me, but a part of me burns with the anger of it.
The injustice.
We were once everything to each other and now I’d love nothing more to choke the life out of them for what they did. Even after all the facial reconstructive surgery, they should know who I am.
No. I don’t care. I can’t.
“Let me buy you another coffee,” Colter says.
I don’t say anything, too locked onto all the ways I could make them bleed.
Haunt notices my anger spike. “Don’t worry about it; we’re going to be late for class if we don’t get a move on.” He places his hand in mine and pulls me away, but I look back, making eye contact with each of them. They stand three sentinels, but not because they know it’s me. They’ll never know the real me again.
We make it to class with five minutes to spare. Haunt pulls me toward the middle of the room. This isn’t as big as the last class, but there are plenty of seats left. I shake myself loose from the encounter. It’s best if I ignore it.
“Question. If I wanted to grab lunch or something with Aslyn, do you think we could make it happen?” I ask, pulling my iPad out.
“As long as we scope the place out before and make a plan for me to be on standby, I don’t see why not. Stan’s loosened the leash; we might as well take advantage before he tightens it again,” he huffs.
My lips thin thinking of the one man I hate more than Colter, Brooks, and Stafford. Stan has kept us from flying away with his threats and insurances. Making sure we know our place among his minions. As mercenaries, we go where we’re told and kill on command. There’s no time for remorse. Our lives are not our own, but some days I find myself imagining what true freedom would feel like. And if it wasn’t for what’s at stake I would have slit the old man’s throat by now.
He stole my life and my brother, Magnus’, after I was released from juvie at eighteen. Threatened and made sure that I knew he was scarier. Magnus is a victim in all of this, and if it’s the last thing I do, I will set him free.
More students come through the door, and if I was shocked to see them all together, nothing prepares me for seeing Stafford Fitzgerald up close again. His russet hair is still a wavy mess, and his blue eyes shine behind a pair of black-framed glasses. My heart starts to race, but the anger quickly replaces the moment ofjoy that fluttered in my middle. I can’t let myself drift into the past.
“Fuck,” I whisper, turning to the side as he walks up the row. It’s been years since I’ve been this close, but I don’t want to bring attention to myself again. Being the new girl is enough to turn curious heads, and I don’t need them to get suspicious, especially after our little run-in.
As soon as he passes us, I shift in my seat slightly and glance behind me. He’s wearing a button-down white dress shirt and navy slacks that do wonderful things to his ass. But he’s the best friend of my personal devil so his ass can fuck all the way off.
“What is it?” Haunt mumbles, putting his large hand on my thigh, grounding me. His head moves on a swivel, looking for the threat. The one thing Haunt and I are good at is watching each other’s backs. We’ve been trained to be extensions of each other. It’s what makes us a formidable team.
