“Knight hurt you yesterday.”

“You saw?”

“I felt it.” He pulls up a finger. “Premièrement, Knight skipped today, to fight and bleed his knuckles and will probably only show up for the game.” He adds another finger. “Deuxièmement, you’ve been crying and you ran away from him, which means he crossed a line. Finalement, I’m old-fashioned. I don’t like it when ladies cry.”

My lips part as I savour his every word. “So what? You think if I go out with you, it’ll hurt him?”

“It will.”

I laugh, and the sound is so bitter, it hurts. “I disgust him, Ro. He can’t even look at me anymore.”

My voice breaks at the end and I stop so the tears won’t come out. I did enough crying for a lifetime last night. I won’t cry again.

Doesn’t mean it hurts any less, though.

The fact that Xander is the only one who sees me but is disgusted with what he sees is a different type of pain altogether.

The most crippling one.

The one therapists can’t find a cure for.

I wish Dad were here so I could hug him. Since I was little, he’s always made me feel safe and protected with a simple hug.

And calling me his Angel.

“He doesn’t look at you like he’s disgusted with you, Kimmy.”

“He doesn’t look at me. Full stop.”

“Are you blind? You’re the only one he looks at when he thinks no one is watching. He’s perfected it so well, even you don’t notice him.”

“R-really?”

He places a hand on his chest. “I swear on my honour. Wait, I don’t have that. I swear on my sacred stash of weed.”

I laugh, abandoning the salad container. I’m not going to eat anyway, so I might as well stop with the pretence.

“There.” He grins. “I knew you’d smile.”

“You’re so daft.”

“Daft with a big dick, Kimmy. It makes a difference.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I mean it.” He turns around so he’s fully facing me. “For instance, I could have threesomes with you and Ellie all night long. Which brings us to my part of the deal. Both of you need to wear bunny outfits. Nash said you could definitely wear one when you’re drunk, and he knows his shit. I’ll get you all the tequila you like. The problem’s with Ellie; we need to convince her somehow. Does she have any dark fantasies we can explore?”

I laugh at the way he’s talking. I’ve never seen Ro so serious about such a hypothetical situation in my life. I hate to kill his fun, though, so I go with it.

“I’m afraid Elsa’s dark fantasy is everything Aiden.”

“Putain.” He rubs his jaw. “I can still spike whatever he’s drinking and have him there in body, but not mind. Think about the epic expression on his face when he wakes up to find Ellie with us.”

His eyes gleam with a rare type of sadistic mischievousness. Ronan might be the most playful and easygoing out of the horsemen, but I’m beginning to think he has his secret tendencies, too.

Those who hide their real selves with humour are the most cunning.

“He’d kill you, though, and I don’t want you dead, Ro.”

He wraps an arm around my shoulder and pats his chest. “You’re the first one to ever say that to me.”

“I am?”

“Marry me, Kimmy. And before you say anything, I have an aristocratic title and a fortune that will sustain our fourth generation. I promise satisfying sex and threesomes. Lots of threesomes.”

I laugh and the sound is relaxed compared to my earlier state of mind. “Maybe you should start looking for someone else other than Elsa. Just in case.”

“You mean instead of spiking King’s food?”

“And the fact that he’ll murder you in cold blood.”

He pouts. “But I have none other than you two on my mind.”

My gaze strays ahead and I spot Teal coming from the school’s direction to the garden. Upon seeing us, she turns around like a robot and marches back inside.

“How about –”

“Not her.” Ronan cuts me off, his complete attention on Teal as she takes stiff, almost forceful steps towards the school.

“Why not? Teal is cool.”

“She’s not.”

That’s the first time I ever heard Ronan say something remotely bad about anyone. He doesn’t even call Silver and her minions bitches, even when they act like it.

“What did Teal do to you?”

“Nothing.” He grins at me. “Yet. But she has psychotic tendencies and I need my balls.”

“Threatened, Ro?”

“Moi?” He feigns offence.

“Yes, toi.” I poke his stomach and he tickles me on my sensitive side.

We laugh as he pretends to growl, coming after my ticklish spot. I knew he’d focus on weaknesses, he just doesn’t like to show his cards upfront.

My stomach hurts with the amount of laughing while I try to push him away. Even though Ronan appears harmless, he’s still big, and I’m helpless in front of his sheer size.

All my swats fall unnoticed as he tickles me until I’m breathless and gasping with laughter.

I don’t feel it happen until I see it.

One moment Ronan and I are struggling, him pinning me to the bench, and the next, his entire presence is wrenched off me.

I shriek as Xander throws Ronan to the ground.

His eyes are red, face bloodied, and he looks ready to finish lives.

13

Xander

War.

They call me that for a reason.

Wars start for a trivial cause, but they have sinister undertones. Wars are made to destroy.

Wars are the reason for death, not the other way around.

Death goes down. War remains.

My mind is bleached white as I land on Ronan, straddling his stomach. I clutch him by the collar and drive my fist straight to his face.

He had the audacity to hug her, push her against the bench, and touch her as if he has every right to.

There’s that inner voice, telling me not to show my cards this clearly, but that voice is turning dimmer by the days.

I couldn’t stop this need to wreak havoc if I tried.

It’s been a long fucking time without a war, and wars need to happen to purge people.

Wars need to happen to Death, and now, he needs to fucking bleed.

He smirks up at me as I crush my fist into his face, but he doesn’t try to fight me off, not that he can when I’m on such an adrenaline high.

A voice calls from my right, startled and soft. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I recognise it’s her, but I don’t focus on it. I don’t stop to see her or hear the same voice she used to giggle at him.

My next punch is stronger than the previous one, and Ronan’s head to lolls to the side.

“Someone is losing it.” Ronan licks the corner of his bloodied mouth. “Got a problem, mon ami?”

I punch him again, causing his words to stop where they started.

Doesn’t matter that I spent most of the night and morning fighting with thugs or that a few bruises in my body hurt like a fucker. I’m going to finish this day with an epic finale – like this bastard’s death.