Page 15 of Heartbreak Kings
I had spent a lot of time going over the information I had gleaned from her blog, and if there was one thing we had in common, it was idealism. She wanted to bring down bad people. Not men, not conservatives, nobody but actual predators and assholes. That sense of justice would make her vulnerable to anyone who could satisfy it.
Blake had a good idea about stepping in when the others were harassing her. It served two purposes. It stopped the ridiculous behavior that only made her angrier and more determined, and it won over a tiny scrap of her trust. I could do that. In fact, it made me feel a little better to do it. So, when I finally caught sight of her bringing a tray to an open table in the dining hall, I started following her and waited for something to happen. After everything, I seriously doubted I would have to wait long. I didn’t. As she set down her tray on the small table, I saw a trio of freshmen in hoodies stand up from a nearby table and approach her. They had grim expressions on their faces and their hands shoved deep into their pockets. Their focus on her was predatory.
I rolled my eyes.Oh, come on, this is getting ridiculous.
I moved to intercept at once. I didn’t care if they were planning to mess with her meal or with her. It was enough. This was not how men should act, and we were men now, not boys.
She saw them coming and tensed, whipping out her phone. The three stopped dead, eyeing one another uncertainly. “You guys want to lodge a protest, go do it with the administration. You touch me or my belongings, this goes viral, and I’ll press charges.” Her voice was firm.
Fucking amateur hour.“You boys take your hands out of your fucking pockets and back down,” I ordered, stepping up. All four of them gawked at me. Sabine appeared surprised, but the boys were horrified.
I glared at each of the three. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“She doesn’t belong here!” whined one of them, a weird, colorless kid with mousy hair, pale skin, gray eyes.
“That is not your call. What’s in your pocket, dirtbag? A knife?” I moved closer to him. The other two were already backing away, searching for an opportunity to disappear into the crowd. But the gray kid, I stepped up to. “Were you planning to stab her?” I demanded as I heard Sabine gasp in horror at the prospect.
“No, it’s… I—uh, scissors,” he started. “Just for her hair!” he added, as if that made things better.
“That would still catch you assault charges, you dumb fuck,” I growled as I watched Sabine lay a protective hand over her dark curls. “And for what? All you’d do is make the rest of us look worse and spend the weekend in jail.”
He blinked slowly and dully, as if his brain were still processing things on a kindergarten level. “Why do you care what I do to this cun—”
I stepped toward him threateningly, and he bit back the rest of the insult at the last second. “Be careful how you talk about women around me, dumbass. I’m not one of your idiot buddies.” I jerked my chin toward where they were retreating. “Follow them. Don’t try this juvenile shit again, or I’ll report you myself.”
Fear flickered in his eyes as I let my genuine disgust for him show in my eyes for a second. I stared into his until he trembled and then, in my most menacing voice, said, “Go.”
He went, throwing down the scissors behind him as he went. I studied them disdainfully. Sabine walked over and scooped them up, tucking them into her pocket.
“You okay?” I asked quietly.
“I’m fine,” she hissed. I fought down a smile. The fiery side of her personality was coming out, and I liked it. “Who are you?”
“Name’s Marcus. I’m Blake’s cousin and fraternity brother.” I smiled at her and offered a hand, but she was too guarded to take it after what she had been through, staring at it until I lowered it back to my side. “Apparently some of our pledges have been acting up, so I took it upon myself to keep an eye out.”
“That’s convenient.” She stared at me for a long moment, then sat back down.
I went to the opposite chair. “May I?”
She shrugged and pushed it out with her foot. I took it, setting down my briefcase. “You’re trying to tell me you’re out policing your own, and that’s why you stepped in.” She sounded dubious. But then again, she was probably drowning in adrenaline from the Attack of the Guerrilla Barbers.
“Didn’t my cousin already explain that to you?” I asked her gently. “I thought he mentioned stepping in similarly.”
“All he did was complain about how unmanly the guy was. He didn’t identify that guy as a pledge. Though I have noticed that my regular circus of harassers is associated with your organization.” Her eyes bored into me.
I blinked back at her, taking Blake’s warnings about her shrewdness a lot more seriously. “Yes, that’s true. Our pledges are angry, and we’re trying to deal with the problem.”
She folded her arms, peering at me as if she could read the truth in my face. I smiled back mildly as she considered me. “Look, this is getting a little weird. Did Blake send you?”
“No, I came around on my own. I was curious. Blake said you were tough and smart, but I think even he underestimates you.” I observed her face. She was relaxing, her eyes focusing on me more instead of darting warily around the room, but that didn’t mean she trusted me.
“Flattery will not distract me,” she muttered, poking at her plate of midday pancakes and sliced fruit with a fork. “Please just ask whatever you’re going to ask, say whatever you’re going to say, and leave me alone, okay?”
“Oh. Okay.” I tried not to take it personally. Nearly getting a chunk of your hair cut off had to leave you with your guard up. And this was my first approach. “Is it always the same guys?”
She raised her eyebrows in surprise. The light caught in the depths of her brown eyes and distracted me so much I had to force myself to focus on what she was saying. “Yeah, it always is. Roughly fifty of them, usually violent, antagonistic, and irrational. I’ve had to deal with a lot of their bullshit, while not knowing what motive is behind it. Besides straight up hating women anyway.” She grabbed her glass of orange juice off her tray and downed half of it in one go.
“The bottom line is, students like that have a problem with an administrative decision they think they should have a say in, and they’re taking it out on you. But intimidation attempts? Cutting off your lovely hair? They’re all cruising for an expulsion.” I didn’t much care if someone overheard me. My disgust was genuine. “And making us all look bad.”
