Page 23 of Pretty Lethal
Wilder grins at me. “I was hoping you’d say that. Beer time it is. I saw some in an ice bucket in the kitchen. I’ll go grab them.”
While Wilder goes to get us refreshments, I take up a spot at the corner of the garden, not far enough from everyone else to stand out but equally somewhere where I won’t be drawn into conversation and can keep a close eye on Jacob.
The two of us watch him for the rest of the night, going so far as to follow him upstairs when he disappears with the girl. “This is not how I wanted to spend my night,” I growl at Wilder, as we listen to the girl’s fake moans through the door.
I step away, not needing to hear anymore. I swear to god, if I have to listen to him come, I’m going to cock-block Wilder for the next month. We move further down the corridor, and while I wait I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes, blocking out the sounds of the party downstairs.
When Wilder shoves his shoulder into mine, I snap my head up, ready to ream him out. Only he cuts me off with a glare, jerking his head toward two girls walking past us. My eyes drop to where their hands brush and I notice the heat burning in their eyes when they look at each other.
“That’s her,” he whispers. “The blonde one.”
They listen at doors and duck their heads into rooms until they find an empty one, and we watch as the two of them disappear inside before I turn back to Wilder. “What do the King’s Elite want with her?”
He shrugs his shoulders, frowning at the closed door. “They just asked me to follow her and report back my findings.”
“Are you going to tell them what we just saw?” I ask.
He grimaces, not answering me for a long moment. Eventually, he looks at me, turmoil churning in his brown eyes. “I don’t want to.”
A tension has settled over Wilder as we wait for Jacob to blow his load. When he finally stumbles, drunk and with his pants still unbuckled, from the room, we follow him down the stairs and out of the house. By now, I’m more than ready to be done with this shit so I can go back to bed. I’m already picturing climbing in beside Emilia. I don’t even care that it’s her night with Kai.
We wait until fraternity row is behind us, and only the vacant campus grounds surround us, before we make our move. Hidden in the shadows between the beams of overhead lights from the lamp posts, I share a look with Wilder, who nods, and we hastily close the distance to Jacob.
“What the he—” he begins when I sneak up behind him, restraining his arms while Wilder stuffs a sock I didn’t know he had into Jacob’s mouth, muffling the rest of his sentence. He clamps his hand over the top before the two of us drag him off the path and behind nearby shrubs.
He screams obscenities—at least, that’s what I imagine he’s saying—as we wrestle him to the ground, and I manage to pin him down while Wilder searches his pockets.
Finding his phone, Wilder holds it up in front of Jacob’s face to unlock it. We ignore the asshole as he writhes and snarls at us. Wilder sits on his legs while I hold his shoulders down and wait for Wilder to do whatever it is he’s doing.
I startle when Wilder jumps to his feet.
“You fucking scumbag,” he snarls, driving the toe of his boot into Jacob’s side. The guy grunts at the contact.
“What the hell?” I ask, glaring up at Wilder, who is simmering with rage so potent that he can’t even focus on me. “You twisted fucker.” He delivers another painful blow to Jacob’s ribs and I’m fairly certain I hear one of them snap over his howl of pain. “You don’t even give a shit that she’s not interested in you,” Wilder yells, unconcerned. This time, his foot lands in his gut. “How many fucking times has she told you no, and yet you keep pursuing her, huh?”
“Wilder,” I snap, finally getting his attention.
He tosses me the phone, and I catch it, no longer needing to pin the writhing asshole to the ground. I doubt he can even stand, and he certainly isn’t going to escape us at this point. Staring at the group chat open on the screen, I catch sight of a photo of Emilia sitting behind her desk in her classroom and red fogs across my vision. She’s slightly bent over it, reaching for something. From the angle the photo was taken, it offers a prime view of her cleavage.
As if that’s not enough incentive to pummel the asshole’s face in, beneath it, Jacob has written into the chat with his football buddies, saying,I can’t wait to fuck those right after I take her tight cunt.
The phone shakes in my hand, creaking beneath the pressure before I drop it onto the dirt. “You bastard!” My fist connects with his face, blood immediately spraying out from his broken nose.
“Told you he was a sleazeball who was after our woman.” Wilder crouches down so that his knee presses against Jacob’s windpipe, and he glowers down at him with the promise of death in his eyes. This is Wilder in all his full-blown crazy, and given the fury pounding through my veins, I’m so fucking here for it. “Think you can say that shit about our woman and get away with it,” he snarls so vehemently that spittle hits Jacob’s face. “Think I won’t slice your fucking balls off and drape them around your throat as a necklace?” He reaches out and yanks on Jacob’s hair, forcing his head back at an awkward angle.
The guy blinks rapidly up at him, his focus struggling to adjust as Wilder leans in. “She’s mine. Ours. And no one gets to fucking look at her without our say-so, do you hear me?”
Jacob makes some attempt to answer, but it’s incoherent, what with the sock still blocking his airway and the pain from his broken nose and ribs probably making it difficult to concentrate, but he better be fucking listening.
Wilder doesn’t seem to care as he continues, “Now, you listen to me ‘cause I’m only going to tell you this once. You’re going to drop out of her class. You’re never going to go anywhere near the English department again. If you see Emilia on campus, you will walk in the opposite direction. You don’t look at her. You don’t speak to her. You don’t so much as utter her name. If you do, I’ll know, and I’ll pay you another visit just like tonight, except I can guarantee you won’t be breathing by the time I’m done with you. You got me?”
Tears stream down Jacob’s face, which has turned red from the lack of oxygen—or maybe that’s fresh blood—and he attempts to nod his understanding.
Wilder glares down at him with narrowed eyes for a long moment, driving his threat home. When satisfied, he lifts his leg off Jacob’s neck, rising to his feet. He continues to stare down at him before slowly pulling a sharp, jagged blade from a sheath tucked into the inner pocket of his jacket.
I roll my eyes, knowing what comes next. Of course he couldn’t leave the house tonight without bringing that death trap with him.
Crouching down, he strokes the flat end of the blade along Jacob’s cheek. The pathetic wimp is shaking so hard that Wilder nearly stabs him. Not that I think he’d care. In fact, he’d probably get off on it. Sobs wrack Jacob’s chest, and a second later, the acrid stench of piss hits my nostrils.
