Jordan’s voice now drew everyone’s attention. He announced his presence as if he had the authority to be included in this conversation. It worked.

Both Principal Neeon and Alex shifted, creating an opening for Jordan to step forward. He did, with Zellman right next to him. I glanced around and spotted Cross not far away—just behind Alex, leaning back against the locker on the other side of Taz’s. It was the perfect attack position. He could jump and take Alex out if anything were to happen.

“You’re not a part of this conversation, Pitts.”

I almost laughed. Principal Neeon had allowed him in without realizing it.

Jordan’s face was blank. “You’re right, Mr. N. I’m not, but Bren is like family to me, so you know how it is.” He reached up, placing his hand on Principal Neeon’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’d be concerned if it were your daughter.”

Oh no...

Everyone paused for a moment. Just a moment. One peaceful moment, and I closed my eyes because I knew when I opened them, all hell would start.

And it did.

I looked again just as Principal Neeon knocked Jordan’s hand away. He reached for his shirt, and in one motion, he picked Jordan up and slammed him against the locker. “Are you threatening my daughter?”

I had to dive out of the way, saying a quick mental prayer that my ribs had healed fast.

Jordan’s back crashed into the metal, and Principal Neeon raised him off his feet. “Are you kidding me, you punk kid?! Who do you think you are?” His face was right in front of Jordan’s. “What are you going to do? Hurt my daughter? Huh? HUH?!”

“Hey. Whoa. Whoa.” A strained laugh came from Jordan. He looked at Principal Neeon’s hands for a moment. “I was asking if you’d be worried about your daughter in a situation like this.” He bobbed his head toward me. “That’s all.”

I’d moved out of the way, but not far, and I could feel Cross right behind me. We were sticking close, in case Jordan needed our help.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mr. Jenston tried to wade in through the sea of students gathered around us. Two of Ryerson’s crew weren’t moving. Mr. Jenston scowled, unable to get past them, and he finally took one and shoved him aside. His tie flapped back over his shoulder.

“Robert.” He straightened his tie, smoothed a hand down his shirt, and patted Mr. N’s arm. “Let’s let go of the student.”

“He threatened my daughter, Pat.”

Mr. J frowned, shooting Jordan a look, but moved to face Principal Neeon. “Come on, Robert. Think about this. You’re physically manhandling a student. You know you have to let him go.”

“This little shit punk of a kid.” The principal’s hands tightened on Jordan’s shirt, and he started to lean even closer. He shook his head. “You think you can do whatever you want? You went after one of us. Yeah. We heard the rumors. I don’t give a shit if there’s no evidence. You can’t do that. You messed up real bad this week, you and your crew’s slu—”

“Hey!”

I didn’t know who said that, but it wasn’t quick enough.

I heard. I knew what he’d been about call me.

It was enough.

I understood his fear. I even understood the anger. He was a father. But what the principal just said about me? Or almost said. That crossed the line.

That crossed my line.

I felt myself falling back. I was pulling back.

I recognized Jordan yelling. I felt Cross move so he was behind me. All around me, people were moving, shoving, yelling. But everything began to fade. I only saw red, and Principal Neeon was the center of my focus.

I wasn’t a slut.

I wasn’t his slut.

I wasn’t my crew’s slut.

I stopped thinking.

My brain shut down. And I moved without thinking.

I ducked, evaded, dodged, and then hit someone. I twisted an arm around.

Hands grabbed at me, but I was rabid.

I don’t remember taking my knife out, but I did. I embedded it in someone’s leg. They pawed at it, trying to yank it out. But I did that for them. I turned my back, switched the knife to my other hand, and slammed it back into that person.

I.

Wasn’t.

A.

Slut.

I wanted to keep stabbing, but someone shoved me back after I pulled the knife out a second time. Arms wrapped around me, and I started to fight, but Cross’ voice grunted into my ear.

“Stop. It’s me. Stop.”

I did, for a moment, but I still wanted to lunge forward. I still wanted to use my knife, to cut what they’d said about me out of existence.

I strained against Cross’ hold, but he only tightened his arms.

“Get her out of here!” Jordan roared.

There was a swell of people, and Cross half-carried, half-dragged me away. They were all running the opposite way.

The farther we got from the crowd, the more reality hit me.

I’d stabbed someone. The icy cold feeling inside me tripled.

I groaned, turning in Cross’ arms. At that very moment, his hold morphed. He went from restraining and dragging me to comforting me. His hand cradled the back of my head. He was still moving us away, but I began shaking.

I couldn’t believe what I’d done. This meant jail.

“Hey, hey.” They were the same words he’d used not long ago, but he spoke them in a totally different manner. “Come on. Keep it together for a bit longer. Just a bit longer, okay?” His head dipped close, and I felt his lips on my neck. Then he resumed his movements, hustling me out of there.

The outside air hit my back.

Cross let me go, but he caught my hand, continuing to pull me forward. We were going to his truck.

Once we got there, he opened the door and helped me in. He patted my leg, then shut the door. He was in on his side within a second, and we were pulling out of the lot.

He drove away as two cop cars turned toward the school.

That’s when I lost it.

I’d stabbed the principal.

Cross and I talked once my head was clearer. I didn’t know how long that had taken. It felt like hours, but it might’ve just been one. Time had started to blur. My shakes, the damned wet shit all over my face, and the trembling had subsided.

Now we knew there was no other option. We had to make the smart move: We went to my brother.

Cross called Channing and asked him to come home. While we were waiting for him, Jordan and Zellman called from the police station. They’d been arrested, along with Alex Ryerson and five of his crew members. There’d been a free-for-all after I let loose.

Jordan dropped the bomb that both Principal Neeon and Mr. Jenston had been taken to the hospital. Then he dropped a second bomb: the principal was in police custody.

“Are you serious?” I leaned over Cross to speak into his phone.

“Swear to God,” Jordan said. “I saw ’em put the handcuffs on him and everything. That fucker’s going to get charged.”

Cross frowned. “Is Zellman with you?”

“They have him in the same cell.”

I leaned back, and Cross grabbed my hand. He didn’t look at me, but he laced our fingers together.

I looked down at them, resting between us, and a feeling of “rightness” swept through me.

It grew stronger and stronger with each touch, but since I was being all honest with myself—it’d been there since the beginning.

Cross had been right. It had been just lust for Drake, not something more or something real. But this… Holding Cross’ hand, I remembered all the times he’d been there for me, the nights I’d slept in his closet, how I always went to him.

There was no wrong when it came to us.

I looked up and saw him watching me, smiling faintly.

I smiled back at him and tried to focus on whatever Jordan was saying.

“...see, won’t we?”

A motorcycle engine roared outside the window. I didn’t have to look. Channing had arrived.

The front door banged open, and he stormed into the living room. Tearing off his sunglasses, he snapped, “Hang up.”

“We’re talking to Jordan,” I told him. “He has information from the police station.”

My brother’s jaw clenched, but he held his tongue. He glared at me as he crossed the room and took the phone from Cross.

“Jordan?”

“Here.”

I cringed. Jordan didn’t need to sound so happy to talk to my brother.