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And suspicious. Why thefuckwouldhehelp me?
Jason might have declared me out of the ice box he shoved me in today, but it still doesn’t make sense that one of the four kings would lend me a head.
Astonished and distraught, Brooke gapes at Maverick, her mouth opening and closing several times, making her look like a fish out of water.
The secretary finally tears her eyes away from Maverick to turn to Brooke, waiting for her to either confirm or deny Maverick’s version of the events.
Under Maverick’s steel gaze, Brooke doesn’t lower her head or show any sign of submitting to him. I have to give her that—the girl has balls. Finally, though, she mumbles, “I must have been mistaken.”
The receptionist nods. “Well, let’s get you to the infirmary, dear. Thanks for helping, Nadia.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll gladly help Brooke any time.”
I’m pushing my luck, but I don’t seem to care.
Maverick disguises a laugh in a cough.
I make my way out, walking toward the parking lot, when footsteps sound behind me. I glance over my shoulder, tensing when I see Maverick trailing me.
Time to see the price of his faux chivalry, I suppose. If he suggests anything gross, I’m cutting his balls off with my art scissors. Although I love those scissors. It’d be a shame to have to replace them.
I don’t stop, but I don’t speed up either. His long strides bring him to me in no time.
“What do you want?” I finally ask.
“Were you in there to report Jason?” Maverick’s voice is casual, almost bored.
Now I stop and turn to look at him. I wonder just how much he knows about what Jason did to me.
“How is that any of your business, asshole?”
He shrugs. “I’m simply curious. If you did, getting out of Cross isn’t the worst idea.” He snorts. “I’d actually book a flight out of the country if I were you.”
It could have sounded like a threat, but Maverick makes it sounds like advice.
I study him, and remember that while Rowan was happy to start last week’s hell with his smoothie, Cain delights in my misery, and Jason…is Jason, Maverick hasn’t done anything to me. Not really.
Yet.
I settle for telling him the truth. I can’t exactly pinpoint why, but my instincts tell me he could be an ally of sort amongst my enemies. At least he’d hesitate before signing my death warrant.
I’m being unnecessarily dramatic, but fuck, I’ve had aday. “Of course I didn’t report Jason. I’m not dumb.”
He nods. “Well, that remains to be seen. But smart call, Reyes. Keep up the good work.”
He walks back to the reception hall.
What the hell?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I’m excused for my English period, and I have lunch after, which gives me enough time to drive to town and shop for supplies.
I’m not one for DIY, but a cute associate with green pixie hair and several nose piercings is happy to show me around the hardware store. I buy the strongest lock in the store, and she sells me the tools I need to install it. Jason’s never getting back into my room uninvited.
Which means he’s never getting back into my room. I don’t intend to invite him. Ever.
On my way back to the car, I pass a taco stand, and all of a sudden I feel so faint I almost keel over. My neglected stomach grumbles in desperation.
