Chapter 16

I siton the bed for a couple hours, trying to decipher the note I found on Roman's desk, but every possible search term just pulls up a bunch of nonsensical results. I need a bit more context to make sense of it. FCJ. Is it a school? A place? And without additional information, the long string of numbers makes absolutely no sense at all.

Once I've reached the limit of my internet sleuthing skills, I shut my laptop, and pick up my phone. No texts from Roman. This seems like a fun new pattern with him. We fuck, then he leaves, and then…radio silence. I have no idea what to make of that.

I lay on the bed for a while, but it's evening now, and I'm starting to get hungry. One good thing about living here—temporarily—is that I won't have to worry about money for groceries. If Roman is forcing me to live here, then he can feed me, too.

With a deep breath, I fortify myself to go downstairs. I should really socialize, anyway. Like Wyn said, I have to use this situation to my advantage, and being at odds with the members of the Burning Crown won't help me, or Bree.

I'm not getting dressed, though. If I'm going to be living here, then these guys just need to get used to seeing me in my sweats and bare feet. Fuck ‘em.

As I leave the sanctum of Roman's bedroom, and step out into the hallway, I hear music coming from downstairs. There are always people here, but this feels more like a party. I head down the back staircase that leads to the kitchen, and I'm immediately confronted with at least twenty people in the kitchen, drinking, and smoking. Yup, definitely a party, which is totally normal for a random Tuesday, apparently.

Ignoring all the people, I open the fridge, and peer inside. Um, okay. There's only beer, a couple burritos from a local fast food joint, and a bunch of condiments. Gross. I reach for one of the burritos, but it's rock-hard. God only knows how long it's been there.

Blowing out a breath, I move to the cupboard. There are several packets of Ramen, at least, so I take one of those, then find a clean pot, which is no small feat, and fill it with water to boil.

There are no clean bowls or spoons, so I take them out of the sink and wash them out with the tiny bit of dish soap that's left in the bottle.

In a couple of minutes, my Ramen is done, and I carry it into the living room, where everyone is lounging, listening to music, and playing pool.

A bunch of guys are here, along with a ton of girls, all barely dressed. And as much as I'd love to criticize, I can't really blame the girls for wanting to stand out in a crowd. There are so many girls here, and they're all gorgeous. The competition to catch one of the Sacred Son's attention is fierce.

And then there's me. In my sweats, hair thrown up into a messy bun, carrying a steaming bowl of Ramen.

Everyone in the room stops, and turns to look at me. If there were a record playing, it would screech to a halt. Normally, I'd feel self-conscious about people watching my every move, but this is a common thing, now. I step into a room, and everyone stares at me like I'm a two-headed troll. Yep, it's a typical Tuesday.

"Hey," I say to the room awkwardly, trying to look as unbothered as humanly possible. I walk over to the sofa, and tuck in. It's the only room in the house that looks modern, and untouched by the generations of frat-boy decay.

Lucas is sitting next to me, smoking a blunt, with a girl grinding openly on his lap, through their clothes, thank God. Small miracles. She's smoothing her fingers through his hair adoringly. She's not his consort, and I wonder who she is. "Where's Roman?" Lucas asks, directing his question at me.

I narrow my eyes at him. Is he suggesting I shouldn't be out in the living room unless Roman is with me? Fuck that. If they don't want me here, then they should talk to their friend about stealing my shit and forcing me to move in.

"How should I know?" I twirl some noodles around my fork, and blow on them. "It's not my job to babysit him."

"Ohhhhhh, damn!" one of the guys says–I don't know his name. "This one's feisty." He emphasizes the word feisty, and everyone laughs.

The chick on Lucas' lap glances over at me, her face scrunched in disapproval. "It is your job, actually. Only a really shitty consort would be sitting here, looking like literal trash, while her guy is God-knows-where." A couple people in the room laugh, and that seems to encourage her. "Maybe you should step aside and let a real woman take over."

Her tone is bitter, and I can't help myself, with the bowl still in my hands, I turn toward her with a glare. "You need to leave," I say calmly.

Everyone goes silent again, and I glance at Lucas, but he doesn't say anything. He looks shocked like he's trying to process what's happening.

When the girl doesn't move, I say it again, each word slow and deliberate. "I'm not joking. Get the fuck out."

Her eyes widen for a second like she can't believe my audacity, but a second later, her shock shifts into a scowl. Like I've thrown down the gauntlet, and she's picking it up. "Oh, honey, I'm not going anywhere. This is my family, and no one wants you here." Then she leans in, her long blond hair falling forward, creating a curtain that blocks out the rest of the room. She glares at me through her ice-blue contact lenses, and whispers harshly, "Death to the queen. String her up and watch her swing."

I suck in a breath when she quotes the graffiti that was found on the Humanities building. Fucking cunt. Was she behind that? Is she working with Tyler? Something snaps in me—anger at her, at Tyler, at this whole fucking situation.

I stand abruptly. "Get. The. Fuck. Out," I scream, throwing my bowl of Ramen. Water, and scalding noodles go flying across the room, the bowl exploding into a million pieces as it makes contact with the wall.

The girl reels back, along with everyone else. Quickly, she scrambles to her feet, then just stands there, like she doesn't know what to do. She's waiting for one of the Sacred Sons to stand up for her, I'm guessing. And I'm fucking ready for it. I triple dare anyone to fuck with me right now.

When no one speaks up, she stammers, "Y-you can't kick me out. This isn't even your house."

I shrug, lifting my hands. "Okay, let's ask Roman. Maybe I should call him, eh? Then you can explain to him why you've insulted me, threatened me, and yet still have the audacity to be standing in front of me right now."

I see her visibly swallow at my threat. I'm sure she doesn't want to upset Roman. No one does. The only reason she felt brave enough to say what she said is because he isn't here. But I can fix that real quick.

"Yo, Nicole, you'd better go," Lucas says to the girl. "I'll text you later."

Tears well up in Nicole's eyes, and she opens her mouth to say something, but without Lucas' support, I guess she doesn't feel brave enough. She clamps her mouth shut, and silently gathers up her purse and jacket, then leaves.

A couple of other girls follow her out, their gazes locked on me as they gather their things, too, and shut the door behind them. I expected them to look pissed, but they didn"t. They looked afraid.

As soon as they're gone, guilt swamps me. I don't ever yell like that. Ever. But I'm so fucking sick of people sneering at me, insulting me, threatening me. I've been pushed to the absolute edge.

With a heavy breath, I plop back down on the couch. Everyone is still looking at me, but Lucas is staring at me like I've lost my damn mind. I reach over and take the blunt from his fingers, then suck in a long pull, and another, before handing it back.

It takes a few seconds for everyone to go back to whatever they were doing before, but not without some serious side-eye being thrown in my direction. What happened with Nicole is going to get around, but I don't even care at this point. I'm so over the cruel, jealous energy that's constantly being lobbed at me. It's bullshit.

I glance down at my Ramen, which is now all over the floor. I'm still hungry. I hadn't even taken one bite before hurling my noodles across the room.

Not my best moment, admittedly. I don't even recognize myself. But there's only so much a person can take before they lose it.

Pushing out a breath, I get up and leave the living room, heading back to the kitchen to find myself another packet of Ramen. Maybe this time I'll eat it up in the bedroom. In my current mood, I probably shouldn't be around people.

I'm leaning against the counter, looking down at my phone, when I see someone walk in from the corner of my eye. I glance up to see Lucas.

Oh, God. Here we go. He's going to defend Nicole, and put me in my place. I can just feel it. But if he hasn't been warned by my little outburst in the living room, then he's an idiot, and he deserves the tongue lashing he's about to get.

Hands in his pockets, he glances down for a second, before looking up at me. He looks exactly like his twin, and if it weren't for his wavy hair, I wouldn't be able to tell them apart. He removes one hand from his pocket, and rakes it through his blond hair.

"You good?" he asks.

I shrug one shoulder. "Whatever."

"So, um, I just wanted to say…I'm sorry for what Nicole said. She was out of line, and I don't blame you for kicking her out."

Hm, well, I wasn't asking for his permission, or approval, but I can accept an olive branch when it's extended.

I release the breath I'd been holding, and shove my phone into my pocket. "Thanks, I guess."

"I know you, uh, don't exactly want to be here," he says.

The water starts boiling, and I turn my back to Lucas so I can put the brick of noodles into the water. "You're right, I don't. Your friend targeted me the second he saw me at the Preference Ceremony, and now—" I face him again, arms crossed over my chest "—I'm stuck in his web. And the harder I try to free myself, the more stuck I get."

He nods like he understands, but I know he doesn't. How could he? He's a Sacred Son. The entire school trips over themselves to do his bidding.

So, yeah, there's no possible way he could relate to how vulnerable I am here. I have no money, and without Bree, I have no friends. If Roman wanted to end my entire academic career, he could do it with one phone call. I know he could.

Lucas leans against the wall, hands in his pockets. "Listen, I know Roman is a lot to deal with, but he's not a bad guy."

I snicker at that. Not intentionally, but his comment is so absurd, it just kind of escapes from my lips.

"He's been through a lot in the past year, and I don't think he's really dealt with any of it," he says.

I turn around to stir the noodles. The water is foaming now. "You know, he's not the only one who's had a shitty year. I've also been through a lot, but you don't see me forcing people into situations they're not comfortable with."

"Yeah," he says from behind me.

The noodles aren't quite done, so I face Lucas again. "You know, honestly, I just want to be left alone." How many millions of times have I said this over the past few weeks? I lift my left arm in the direction of the living room. "I didn't want any of this."

He nods, and glances down at his feet. "Just…give him a chance to change your mind."

"Why are you so worried about his dating life?"

He glances back up at me and shrugs, dispelling the heaviness that hangs in the air. "If he's good with you, then he's good with us. That's all."

I nod, but I don't believe him. He's worried about his friend, that much is clear. But there's another layer to all this that I'm just not getting.

Turning the burner off, I drain the noodles with a fork, but half the noodles slip past the tines and into the sink. "Yeah, well, I guess we'll see how much your friend behaves himself."

No answer.

When I turn around, Lucas is gone, and I shake my head.

Nice talk.