Page 28 of Vexatious Queen

“How the hell do you even know that?”

I pushed myself up onto the deck and glared at Sabastian.

With a shrug, he pulled off his cap and goggles as he wandered over to the tall stack of clean towels and grabbed one.

“I didn’t know it was a secret. I’m on the team, and Coach Richards mentioned that you hadn’t responded. He’s looking for your replacement.” He wrapped the towel around his waist. “Good thing, too. You would’ve been a pain in my ass the entire run to Worlds.”

His words hit like a blow, knocking all the air out of my lungs.

“You’re on the team?”

“Course I am.” Sabastian snorted like that was a stupid question. “We hold the two fastest times in the country. Did you really think I wouldn’t get an invitation?”

He put his hands on his hips as I stood there speechless.

“I’m just surprised that you’re not going. You didn’t strike me as the type to walk away from a challenge, but I guess I was wrong.”

He walked toward the locker room and lifted his arm in the air. “Have a good one, Nash. This was fun.”

Rooted to the floor, water dripping off my body, I watched him walk away and disappear. All I could think was that he was stealing everything that I had worked so hard for—my dream.

Sabastian had not only pushed his way into my school, but he was potentially instrumental in people I loved getting killed and hurting countless others. Now he held my ambitions in his hands with a smirk on his face.

My hands balled into fists.

I ran toward the pool and dove in, screaming in frustration as soon as I was underwater. I stayed beneath and waited for silence.

Tears that no one would ever see ran down my face as I grieved the loss of more than those we buried. I mourned the loss of the child who dreamed of a podium under the brightest lights, on a world stage, and winning something worth more than a gold medal. I cried for the boy who wanted to earn respect and a legacy that wasn’t tarnished with blood or Lawrence Collier’s name.

My father had already stolen so much from me that I couldn’t replace. I wouldn’t let Sabastian do the same. He would feel the same pain.

I had planned to kill him, but now—now I was going to ruin him.

JANUARY 16 – FRIDAY 11:10 AM

Ren

Inever thought I would be concerned that Nash wasn’t trying to grope me in class, but here we were. He hadn’t moved since he sat down—arms crossed, staring out the window, books untouched, frozen in time.

Mr. Romanovich had completed his lesson and given us free time to talk or study. No one was studying, of course, choosing instead to chat, except for Nash. He jumped when I touched his leg, looking at me with a harsh glare like he’d forgotten who was beside him. A second later, he snapped out of it.

“Careful, Princess. Class is close enough to finished for me to drag you out of here. I can spend my lunch eating something far more enjoyable than whatever the cafeteria is serving,” he said, and I lifted a brow at him.

Something I’d learned about my husband—God, that was strange to think about—he flirted the hardest when he was covering. They all did it to some degree, but Nash was a master.

“What’s going on? And don’t say it’s nothing.”

“Who says I’m not just daydreaming about getting you naked?”

With a sigh, I removed my hand from his leg and started putting my materials away. Nash threw his arm out to stop me. When I looked at him, his blue eyes were filled with an unreadable emotion.

“I’m just…grappling with some decisions,” he finally said, his voice soft so no one else could hear.

“Like what? You know you can tell me, right? I mean…we are literally tied together now.”

He sat back, ran his hand through his hair, and sighed. It made me want to hit him and knock some sense into his thick skull.

“Nash, I want to help.”