Ouch.

“And you would’ve never flipped Asher Carson the bird.”

I raise an imaginary cup. “To the new me, I guess.”

From today onward, no one is telling me how to live my life.

Blackwood is kind of what I expected from an elite college.

It’s four stories high and has ancient, European-ish architecture. Two huge towers stand tall on each end like a pair of massive guards.

The parking lot is filled with expensive cars, mostly German like Alex’s.

Jason parks the truck outside the college. It’s close enough so I won’t have to walk a long distance but far enough so no one can see him—or us.

I retrieve my bag. “You sure you don’t want to come in?”

His laughter echoes with genuine amusement like I just told the most entertaining joke of the century. “The only time I walk into the Black Devil’s compound is to whoop their asses on their own field.”

I roll my eyes. “Cocky much?”

“We might not have a lot of things going on, but we have ball. No snobby rich boys will take our championship away.”

I guess the rivalry between the Knights and the Black Devils is a real thing.

Still maneuvering my bag around my body, I open the door and slowly get my injured leg out.

“Do you want me to help?” Jason asks from beside me.

“Nope.” I mimic his earlier tone. “I might not remember anything, but I know how to take care of myself.”

He chuckles, the sound easy and cool on the ears.

I pause with my hand on the handle. “What were we exactly, Jason? You and I?”

His chuckle dies and silence hangs between us like a third presence for a moment too long. Finally, he sighs. “Friends.”

“Let me guess. We were only friends when my other friends weren’t around?”

“Something like that.” He grins. “But hey, it worked just fine.”

Well, not anymore.

The old Reina might have had her reason for hiding her friendship with Jason, but I can’t possibly find an excuse for it. True, I agreed not to disrupt my life, but I won’t stand still in front of stupid decisions—like hiding my friendship with Jason.

I’ll fix that part on Old Reina’s behalf.

It takes me several excruciating minutes to climb down from the truck. After I wave at Jason, he retreats and speeds in the opposite direction.

I watch him for a few seconds until he disappears around the corner.

Okay. I’m on my own now.

I mean, it shouldn’t be a problem. After all, I studied at this college for three years. It can’t possibly be that hard…right?

Even as I repeat the pep talk in my head, that gloomy cloud creeps into my brain, filling it with dark thoughts.

No one cares about you.

You’re nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

I briefly close my eyes and try my hardest to push those damning thoughts away. They won’t get the best of me.

Not today.

The moment I open my eyes, a black van retreats slowly from around the corner. The windows are tinted black, and there’s no way to see who’s inside.

My shoulder blades stiffen, and my nails dig into my bag’s strap. Are those the people Alex said watched me when I was admitted to the hospital?

The mafia.

How did they know where to find me? Did they follow us from home? Or maybe they were waiting for my return to college.

Sweat breaks out on my forehead as I remain frozen in place. I can’t move or think or come up with an escape plan. Like a deer caught in headlights, I remain there, lips parted and eyes wild.

Don’t stop. Don’t look back. If you survive, I survive.

A familiar voice whispers in my head, and it’s like a shot of adrenaline. Gripping my bag tight, I watch my surroundings looking for anyone. They can’t hurt me when there are people around. The mob’s rule is to leave no witnesses behind.

Wait. How do I know that?

Just when I’m about to make a run for the entrance—or rather, limp toward it—the van suddenly changes direction. The squeak of the tires echoes in the air as it speeds in the opposite way.

My shoulders droop, and I’m about to release a sigh of relief when a familiar Mustang revs toward me at supersonic speed.

Oh, come on. Asher is the last thing I need for my screwed-up mood.

On second thought, did the van leave because he approached? Not that I’d ever be grateful to him or let him know that.

I ignore him and hobble to the entrance. Since it’s still early in the morning, only a few people are scattered around. I wanted to come at this hour to take a small tour and get familiar with the building and the students.

Still, even with so few students, the back of my neck prickles with unwanted attention. I can’t help feeling like a bug being examined underneath a microscope. Every move I make is measured by onlookers, and I have no clue who they are.

Maybe coming back all alone wasn’t the best idea after all. As much as my initial interaction with Bree sucked, I should’ve probably tagged along with her on my first day here.

A strong arm circles my waist from behind. I’m about to struggle free when I feel the familiar coldness.

The freezing body.

Like ice in the middle of summer.

This close, the smell of his aftershave grips my senses in a tight, merciless grip. Sandalwood and citrus. Rich but cold. He smells of fresh laundry right out of the dryer, but also of the darkness of the night.

He’s an enigma that way, Asher.

He spins me around, and I wobble on my good foot so I don’t make the other one worse.

He doesn’t do it by force, though. I don’t know why I expected him to kick me in the shin just to make my injury way more painful.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He stares down at me with a cool expression. Those damn sunglasses block me from getting a read on him.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m going back to school.”

“And you chose Jason for a ride.” It’s not a question; he’s stating a fact, and he’s intimidating me in such a subtle way, no passersby would detect it.

What kind of sorcery does he possess? Or maybe it’s not sorcery at all. This is the face of someone who’s in complete control of his emotions.

The type of demon who probably doesn’t have them at all.

That could explain why he can switch his body language so fast.

But if he thinks I’ll be his willing toy, he must really not know me at all. I might not have memories, but I know I’m not the type who lets others walk all over me.

I jut my chin out. “Jason and I are friends.”

He clutches my arm, fingers digging into my tender skin, and pushes me toward the wall. I gasp as my back hits the solid stone. Both his hands slam on either side of my face as he leans so close I can see his darkened eyes through the aviators.

“You’re not friends with Jason. You’re not friends with anyone unless I say you are.”

“Jeez, controlling much, Ash?”

He wraps his hand around my collarbone. It’s firm, disallowing me any movement, but it doesn’t cut off my air supply.

His mouth hovers inches from mine as he threatens in a deep tone. “For the last fucking time, it’s Asher.”