The Knight (Coleridge Academy Elites Book 2)

by Lucy Auburn

  This time, when we part, he has a wild look in his eyes, and his breath is coming short and fast, like he just ran somewhere without even knowing why.

  "Let's get you home," he says, lacing his fingers in mine, "before you put on a performance the whole school won't forget."

  "What? Oh." I realize, belatedly, that cars are starting to pull into the lot. Soon the campus won't be so empty. It's all going to begin again. "Thank you for the evening out."

  "Of course. I'll escort you to your place," he jokes, putting his elbow out so I can lace my hand through. "An adventure is just what you needed, I think."

  He's not wrong. I've been laying around in my room, morose, bored, and bitter, for so long that I forgot there were things outside that door. Even worse, I forgot there were people I could spend time with.

  Lukas never asked what was on the laptop partition with my name on it, and I never told him, but I feel as if I could and he wouldn't let it slip to the rest of the Elites. There's something different about him; he's deliberate, slow, gentle, kind. For the hundredth time, I find myself wondering why he's even one of them.

  This time, I dare to ask. "Lukas..."

  "Yes?"

  "I've been wondering." I lick my lips, feeling his eyes follow the motion, and heat rises within me again. It takes effort to concentrate on the question I want to ask. "Why are you friends with Blake, Tanner, and Cole? Especially... especially Cole."

  His shoulders tighten, and his steps slow, tension thinning out his mouth. I can tell he doesn't like the question, but thankfully he says, "I don't blame you for wondering."

  Hastily, I add, "You're all so different. But you most of all. And not just because you were born in Europe."

  "Our parents have been friends for a long time. Especially my mom and Cole's father."

  "Is that it?" I study him. "Because your friendship seems deeper than just convenience or childhood nostalgia."

  Not meeting my eyes, he admits, "You're right. We have a bond that exists outside our circle of influential and powerful family members. Even if we didn't go to the same school now, we'd probably have the same friendship. But we're very different people."

  "So why?" I press him. "Why be friends with him at all?"

  "Because..." He trails off, seemingly reflecting, and I wonder if he's remembering every moment of his childhood with Cole. "He's not just the person you see now. There's more to him."

  "Like what?"

  "His fierce loyalty. His belief in others. The fact that he never backs down, even if sometimes that's more of a flaw than anything. Cole has been there for me. He'll be there for you, too, as you testify."

  "Somehow I doubt that." Looking up at him, I dare to ask, "Will you be there for me in the coming storm? Not just today, but in the future?"

  "I'll try." He squeezes my hand, and warmth flows through me. "Whatever you need, just tell me."

  "Another kiss wouldn't hurt," I tease him.

  Leaning down, he tilts my chin up with his fingertips and presses his warm, parted lips to mine. The kiss is deeper, more confident now that we've done this a few times. He knows the way in, can sense how to stroke his tongue across my bottom lip and make me shiver with delight.

  Pure please courses through me, undeniable and raw in a way I've never felt before.

  Until a voice cuts through it all and ends everything. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? Get away from him—get away from each other!"

  I take dizzying steps back at the sound of Cole's anger, heart leaping to my throat in panic and he strides over to us, Tanner trailing in his wake by several feet. Anger written in the lines of his face, his scowling brows and harsh green eyes, Cole reaches out with both hands—and shoves Lukas in the chest so hard that he nearly falls.

  "Cole!" Angry at him for ruining a perfect moment, I step between him and Lukas, even though I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Cole is just as likely to shove me as to stop fighting. "Cut it out."

  "You." He spits the word out, looking at me like I'm a rabid dog that turned up on his doorstep. "The sooner you leave, the better for all of us."

  Lukas, rubbing his chest, frowns at his friend. In a voice full of quiet rebuke he simply says, "Cole."

  "I mean it. What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Cole advances on us, and I can't tell if he's trying to intimidate me or threatening to shove Lukas again. "This is some two-timing manipulative bullshit."

  I scowl at him. "What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not two-timing anyone."

  "Oh yeah?" Cutting his eyes up at Lukas, he demands, "Did she tell you that just a few weeks ago she nearly fucked Blake?"

  "Hey!" Bringing my hands up, I shove him, just a little, but my half-assed strength does nothing but get me two palms full of warm chest. My eyes go to Tanner, standing casually behind Cole, looking bored out of his mind, then back to Cole's piercing green eyes full of anger. "There's nothing between me and Blake. Besides, that was months ago. And it wasn't... we didn't go out on a date or anything."

  "So you're fast and easy," Cole taunts, and I blush furiously, shoving him again—this time hard enough to send him stumbling half a step back. I can feel students starting to trickle in from off campus, and the embarrassment of this, how public it is, makes me want to stab Cole to death. He says, "You know, Brenna, I've heard before that country girls are bow-legged for a reason. I just never knew how indiscriminate you'd be. What, one rich guy isn't enough for you? What's next—all four of us?"

  He makes it sound like I want their money. But that's not why I'm doing this at all. Every bit of it has been a means to an end.

  "All I want is revenge for my brother."

  "So you don't want us, then, do you?"

  "No!" I declare, curling my hands into fists in front of me. "I don't want you at all!"

  "See?" Cole lifts his eyes and looks at Lukas, who is standing right behind me. "You're just a tool for her. A way to get back at the system that ground Silas into dust. She doesn't care about you—she'll never care about you. It's all a game to her."

  Horror mounts inside me, and I whirl to face Lukas, trying to stammer out an explanation. "It's not—I didn't mean you. I wasn't using you."

  His blue eyes are sad as he says, "I'm different, then?"

  "Yes!" I cling on to this explanation. "You're not like the others."

  "I knew you judged us harshly, Brenna." He shakes his head, looking away into the trees. "I just had no idea that you thought so little of me. That you didn't even think this might've meant something to me. You see," he leans forward, voice pitched low, hands in his pockets, "I am like the others you scorn. I have distant parents and too much money. People are always trying to use me for my influence and connections. I thought maybe... well, you seemed different. But clearly all you want is what you can get from me. You don't even care if you bleed me dry."

  "That's not true," I protest.

  "Then tell me you have feelings for me. Tell me our time together today meant something to you."

  I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Bewildered, I realize that I've never told anyone I have feelings for them, not like this at least. I don't even know what it looks like to see two people fall in honest, genuine love. Every example in my life, from my grandfather and grandmother to my parents, has been toxic and terrible. There were no soft declarations of love or simple kisses.

  I have no idea how to tell Lukas how I feel about him. The truth is, I don't even know if I do have feelings for him. And he would see it if I lie.

  "See?" His mouth twists up bitterly; my silence is answer enough, for him. "Cole was right. You're just playing games. I should've... well. It's for the best that you'll be leaving soon. That was always the plan."

  Standing on the path to Rosalind Hall, as students awkwardly drag their designer suitcases around us, Lukas looks at me one last time, then turns around and walks away.

  I have the feeling he won't be coming back.

  Cole aims a triumphant smirk in my di
rection. "Just because we agreed to help you with one thing, doesn't mean you get to use us whenever you want. Lukas deserves better. I'll be glad to see you go."

  "I can't wait to leave," I tell him, hating the fact that it's a lie.

  I want to stay here, at Coleridge, more than ever before. Not for revenge. Not because of hate.

  But because I'm finally starting to find myself, and I can only finish doing it here.

  I don't see Cole walk away; I can barely look at him, because my own worst qualities are reflected back at me when I do. Slowly, spring breakers returning to campus start to stream around me, and I hold my breath to keep from crying.

  Footsteps behind me. A familiar scent. Someone stands at my shoulder, casual, easy, never tense or uncomfortable.

  He watched the whole thing.

  I wonder what cruel jab will fall from his mouth in a dripping Southern drawl.

  "Hey Brenna," Tanner says, "wanna go dirt bike riding with me?"

  Chapter 24

  "No one else will go," he complains, as I stare at him in bafflement. "All these rich kids are so precious about their skincare routines. You'd think a little mud would turn them into a puddle of goo. They're not like us."

  I frown. "Us?"

  "You know what I mean. Virginia is Southern. Especially your part of it. I know you've taken a tumble in the mud before." He's not wrong. "You don't seem to give a shit about a few scrapes and a little dirt underneath your fingernails. There's still half a day of spring break left. Come with me. It's the only chance you'll get to go off campus before they lock you in those classrooms and make you study yourself to death."

  This is the last thing I expected to happen today, but somehow it makes perfect sense. Still, I can't help but look for the trap. I've barely had any interaction with Tanner since last semester. He's been content to go along with the ride, following Cole's lead, occasionally making swipes in my direction. Other than the triumph on his face the day Hass was arrested, he's barely seemed to care about what was going on around him at all.

  "Why not just go by yourself? I'm sure you don't need me."

  "Because it's boring as fuck alone." He doesn't sound like he's lying. With a shrug, he adds, "Besides, you seem like you could use the chance to run off some steam. This place is basically a super fucking fancy prison for lonely kids whose parents don't want to raise them. You don't belong here."

  Unsaid in his words is the fact that he does belong here. Senator Connally sent his eldest, his only son, off to boarding school, while keeping his two daughters by his side as he campaigns for the presidential nomination. It's not hard to see why he would want foul-mouthed, prank-pulling Tanner somewhere else, given his penchant for trouble and his inability to keep his dick in his pants for long. But Tanner doesn't sound sad about it, just matter of fact in an almost joking way.

  It would be nice to have an engine between my legs, the air all around me, defying gravity with a dirt bike in some off-road course somewhere. Which begs the question, "How are you going to get me off campus without testing Cole's wrath? He seems convinced I'll be assassinated as soon as I step outside the gates."

  "Cole is paranoid." Tanner rolls his eyes, dismissing him with a flap of his hand that turns into a rude gesture. "You'll be fine. I'll have my butler take you in my SUV." He grins at his own joke. "Actually, the athletics director says he'll drive me. And I promise to single-handedly fight off any assassins who come for us."

  I snort in derision at his mockery of my very real fears of being hurt or worse, but the truth is that I'm desperate to get off campus and blow off some steam. Especially now that my heart is hurting because of what Lukas said to me.

  "Show me your dirt bikes, Connally. Let's have some fun."

  I should've known there would be alcohol.

  Tanner has a can of what's ostensibly seltzer but is clearly alcoholic based on the way he keeps pausing between runs to drink it down. The athletics director, who's supposed to be supervising us, doesn't seem to notice or care—he's standing a good hundred feet away, at the edge of the dirt-packed race course, talking on his cell phone. The senator's son drinks half a can of something with a cherry on it without even being noticed.

  "C'mon," he cajoles, as I do another tepid loop on the bike I borrowed, "get down in the pit with me and do some tricks."

  He brought me to a tricked-out race course for dirt biking, complete with a long flat loop to race around and several hills to jump off of. The course stretches out as far as my eye can see, a strange and unnatural part of the Connecticut landscape. For all I know Georgia Connally built it for his son. It's certainly got quite the drop off from the flat area I've been testing my bike skills on and the pit where Tanner has been doing tricks.

  Eyeing the incline, I feel my stomach go all wobbly. "I thought we were going to bike in some field or something. Or down a dirt road. Not... this."

  "I can find a dirt road for you, if you want." Tanner aims a white flash of a grin at me, then glances over at the glorified gym teacher. "We'll just have to ditch the help. Or pay him off."

  Suede, the official Director of Athletics Activities at Coleridge, shoots a frown in Tanner's direction. "What's that?"

  Tanner calls out, "The girl wants to bike that way." He points across the road from us, towards a field a mile long and a gravel road that vanishes between the trees. "We'll come back in an hour or two. Maybe more."

  The wink he sends my way makes it clear what the "more" is meant to be, but for some reason I don't get flustered or irritated. I know by now when to take Tanner seriously and when to just ignore him. He's trying to lighten the mood more than anything, because he saw what happened between me and Lukas, and knows what's going to happen in just over a week when I testify.

  I still don't know if I've properly explained to my mom and Wally what the testifying means. They know I witnessed something, and they know I'm the Jane Doe in the Ferdinand Von Hassell case. But they have no idea the danger I'm facing. I had to tell my mom I had too much homework to come back to Wayborne for spring break, a lie that stuck in my throat like a clenched fist.

  More than anything, I want someone I can trust and confide in about this. Even Holly doesn't know it's me who's testifying—though I think she suspects. Georgia has managed to keep that secret. Until I tell her, or someone back home, the only people I have who know the truth are Georgia and the Elites.

  What a cold shoulder to rely on for comfort.

  "Alright." The athletics director eyes each of us, and apparently decides that as long as we come home alive, he doesn't care what else happens. "Be back in ninety minutes. No more. None of this hour or two shit. Got it?"

  Tanner grins like the cat who got the canary. "Got it. Let's go, Brenna."

  We ride our dirt bikes across the road, me at a slower clip than him, my hands squeezing tight on the handlebars. Unlike Tanner I'm wearing a helmet, and my vision of his bike on the road ahead of me makes him seem like a dark silhouette, leading me astray. As we reach the dirt road and he stops, I push the visor up so I can see him better.

  "Let me catch up!"

  He slows his pace for me, the dappled overhead sun shining spots of gold on his face and neck, turning a boy into something else before my eyes, something wild and free like a forest sprite. For a moment, seemingly unaware he's being watched, Tanner pauses on the road and tilts his head up towards the canopy overhead, the long stretch of his throat vulnerable. A kind of peace falls over his face, and I wonder if I'm imagining things, or if sadness briefly changes his mouth into the shape of a sigh.

  The expression leaves, and he shoots a grin over his shoulder at me. "Keep up, Wilder! I don't have all day."

  Rolling my eyes, I look down at my bike and decide it's now or never. Time to rev the engine and prove that I can keep up with even the wildest of boys.

  I can feel my brother's shadow spirit at my back, egging me on, his hands clenched on the handlebars next to mine, his voice goading and teasing. As Tanner calls ou
t, "Let's go!" I can't tell if it's his voice or the echo of my brother's that I hear.

  Turning the engine all the way up, I let the bike loose, aiming for the road ahead of Tanner, right where it widens. As I pass him he lets out a holler of delight, his voice a wild whoop tinged with an unfixed drawl of an accent that his father has no doubt given up on getting rid of. A moment later I hear the roar of his bike behind me, and know he's fast on my tail.

  As the road bends and we leave the world behind, I forget everything.

  Who I am.

  Who he is.

  What I've lost.

  What I've yet to gain.

  I'm just a girl with a wild scream strangled in my throat, the wind whipping my clothing back, an engine warm and roaring between my legs. Gravel sprays beneath the bike's tires, and I let the scream out of my throat, yelling as loud as I can into the empty abandoned wilderness.

  Tanner's voice joins mine, whooping so loud it echoes through the trees around us, filling the empty spaces and bouncing back. Electricity tingles in my fingertips and toes, and I grin even as the acceleration forces the visor of my helmet down and cuts off part of the light of the world.

  I feel as close to flying as I've ever been.

  As close to being free as a girl with one foot in the grave and half a heart left to love can ever be.

  We speed down the road, Tanner sometimes swerving ahead of me, only for me to catch him on a bend. The ground slowly dips bit by bit until suddenly we're accelerating fast down an incline, so fast my heart jumps into my throat. As the gravel road spills into a wide-open field, trees and posts in the distance, I slam on the brakes—too hard. I feel my stomach do a somersault as I come to a stop on the road and almost fall off the bike. As it is, the thing skids beneath me and flips me over, and I wince as the gravel skins my leg, pants yanked up to my knee, skin on fire.