3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Noelle

The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, but I don’t let go. Cas has his arm wrapped around me. He’s huge. Maybe he takes steroids. I’m a size eighteen, but I’m a particle of dust compared to him. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this small beside a man. I’m worried about Peter, who’s trying to stand up to Cas. I’m sure he could beat Peter to a pulp while holding me with one arm.

What is that digging into my back? Something hard is poking me, and I move my arm behind me to check it out. Oh. Cas is aroused. How is he getting hard from me biting the shit out of him? He’s crazy. Certifiable.

“Let her go, Cas,” a deep voice I recognize comes from behind us. Lorne Miller. It makes sense he’d be close by. These two are always together. Cas, and there’s another guy, Declan.

They don’t go to school here, so I have no idea why they think they can get all up in my business. They appeared a few months back. At first, I assumed my father had decided to have them be my shadows after Lorne kept showing up at our house. But my father assured me that wasn’t the case and said Lorne probably had his own business to adhere to on campus.

But it’s not just Lorne. It’s always him and his shadows. It’s almost like they’re Lorne’s personal bodyguards. Very inappropriate bodyguards, according to the girls’ bathroom. Celia Warren mentioned she caught them hooking up a few months back. She then proceeded to tell us how they only have sex with girls together. Which I guess makes sense since neither has ever been seen with a girl without the other around.

It’s not like they couldn’t get any girl they wanted. They’re incredibly attractive in different ways.

Lorne is the type of guy who could charm any protective father. He’s clean cut, well put together, and walks around with an air of intelligence and superiority.

He’s tall. I’d say slightly over six feet. His medium brown hair falls effortlessly and would be the envy of many girls if it was long. He’s not as huge as Cas. Lorne’s muscles are lean and cut, much like an Olympic swimmer. But what makes Lorne stand out are his beautiful piercing green eyes that would make a cat jealous.

Cas has the whole bad-boy vibe. He’s always dressed in black to match his raven hair and the tattoos that peek through the collar of his band t-shirts and on his arms. Today he’s wearing a Beach Boys shirt. Can’t hate a guy who appreciates Brian Wilson, one of the greatest musical revolutionaries of the twenty-first century. He’s wearing ripped black jeans, and although they probably cost five-hundred dollars, they don’t look pretentious on him. As for Cas, he wears them like an iconic badass, giving James Dean a run for his money. I glance at his black motorcycle boots. Shit kickers.

Cas is a beast. He’s almost two feet taller than me and towers over my five-two frame. His arms are like sculpted boulders, and his eyes … an icy blue that makes you feel you’re about to be possessed by the devil. It’s also evident he’s not all there.

“She looks like she’s about to take a chunk of flesh out of your arm.”

“I know. It made me hard,” Cas replies gruffly.

A shadow falls over me as Lorne faces Cas. “You’re gonna spook her.”

Too late, Lorne.Cas is clearly a psycho.

“I don’t care. That little fucker touched her.”

“Peter, I think it’s time for you to scamper off,” Lorne says.

Scamper?Who says that?

“I’m not going anywhere until I know she’s safe,” Peter says, his voice lacking conviction.

I let go of Cas’s arm. “I’ll go with you, but you have to promise you won’t hurt him.”

Cas shakes his head. “Can’t do that.”

I kick Cas in the shin with the heel of my boot. Cas groans, but it doesn’t sound like he’s in pain. What the fuck is wrong with him? “He didn’t do anything.”

“He looked at you. He’s lucky his eyeballs are still in his head.”

I stand there dumbfounded, glaring at Cas. My death stare doesn’t have the desired effect because he simply grins at me like a nutjob who just won the lottery.

“Please, Lorne. Do something,” I beg.

“It’s not up to me. Peter here isn’t moving his feet along.”

I gaze at Peter, defeated. I’m small and unsure and at the mercy of the brute holding me back. “Peter, please, go.”

“I’m not leaving you with these two,” he says stubbornly. “Her father will bury you if you hurt her.”

I freeze. Peter knows who my dad is. It’s no secret that my father is a powerful man. A man who snaps his fingers and the world shifts to his will. Edward White is a man you don’t mess with because he will crush you. The only person he listened to was my mother. She tethered him to the ground, but that ended two years ago when she finally lost her long battle with cancer. I miss her. I miss the color and vibrance she injected into my life when we were surrounded by darkness.

Now it makes sense why Peter is here pretending to save me from the big, bad wolves. He’s trying to show that he’s worthy, that he’s not a coward, even as he shakes with every word he utters. I recognize men like Peter—powerless and willing to do anything for the tiniest bit of control.

This is about his ego, not my safety. I’m so stupid. He isn’t interested in getting to know me. He’s interested in the daughter of Edward White. I’m the key to the kingdom, and anyone who wants to meet the king can’t be a good person.

Guys like Peter are all the same. Relationships are commodities to them. It’s about what looks good on paper, what gets them the best deal, and what creates envy. I shouldn’t care what happens to him, but I can’t help it. I care because I’m not my father. Because I believe in compassion and mercy.