Page 227 of Wicked Brutal

Mr. Ellis looks at the twelve students surrounding him. “Apparently.”

Kids scatter. Slowly. Still typing. Still whispering. Still turning around. GlossX is going to be a fucking crime scene.

I look toward Ally. Cat is already moving. Not running. Not making a scene. She reaches Ally first. Penny joins her. Then Becca. Ally says something. Cat takes her elbow. They disappear toward the back corridor.

I wait. Thirty seconds. Maybe forty. Then Kaid jerks his chin. We move. Not together with the girls. After. Far enough behind. Different route.

The classroom is near the old language wing, one of the rooms nobody uses this period. No windows into the hallway. Thank fucking God. Kaid knocks twice. The door opens. Cat. We slip inside. She locks it.

The second the lock clicks, Ally turns. And I’m across the room before anybody says a word. She crashes into me. Or I crash into her. I don’t know. Don’t care.

My arms go around her so hard she makes a tiny sound. “Sorry.”

“Don’t.” Her arms lock around my waist.

I bury my face in her hair. She smells like herself. Still herself. Not Victor’s cologne. Not that fucking ring. Mine. My girl.

“I’m sorry,” I say again.

“Ryan.”

“I fucking hated that.”

And there it is. The ring. It catches against my blazer when she moves. I look down.

She follows my eyes. “I have to wear it.”

“I know.”

“He’ll notice if I don’t.”

I take her left hand. The diamond is fucking obscene this close. I don’t pull it off. Don’t touch it. I turn her hand over instead and press my mouth into her palm. Once. Hard. Anywhere that isn’t his fucking ring.

Her fingers curl against my cheek. “He said I belonged to him.” Her voice gets quieter. “I wanted to throw up.”

I pull her back against me. “You’re not his.” I slide my hand to the back of her neck. “Look at me.” She does. “You are not fucking his.”

Her eyes fill. “I know.”

“He can put a ring on you. He can hire ten wedding planners. He can buy every flower in Switzerland. I don’t care.”

“Ryan—“

“He is not taking you. I don’t give a fuck what he thinks.”

“You don’t know that we can stop him.”

“Yes, I do.”

“How?”

“Because I fucking will.” The room goes quiet around us. Not completely — phones are vibrating everywhere — but nobody looks at them. Yet.

I cup Ally’s face. “Listen to me.” She swallows. “Victor Tremblay is not taking you to Switzerland. He is not touching our baby.” My hand drops between us. Flat against the small curve hidden beneath her uniform. “He is not getting Tobias.” Her eyes close. “Your father is not winning.”

“Ryan.”

“I will burn every fucking thing they built.” Her eyes open. “I mean it,” I tell her.