Page 5 of Wicked Titan

I should be looking at the weathered sign outside of Edgewood High School right now. I’d give anything and everything to have my old life back at this moment. I’d even live with Candace if there was a chance my dad would be waiting on me at the end of it.

“Give ’em hell, Quinn.” Nathan’s encouraging voice breaks me out of my thoughts. Hell is what it feels like, so it shouldn’t be that hard to dish it back to them.

“Thanks.” I turn, giving him a half-smile. So far, he’s the only person who hasn’t treated me like a fragile crazy person or sugarcoated the reality and suckage of the situation—and it really couldn’t suck much more. At least, that’s what I’m thinking as I step out of the car to face my second prison sentence.

4

I join the crowd walking through the front doors of the school. Stepping into the foyer, I notice a lot of students rubbing a statue of a bulldog as they walk by it. The dog’s butt to be exact. It’s not surprising they have traditions. Even though Edgewood was small, we had stupid rituals that didn’t make sense, but we did them anyway.

Guilt stabs at my insides as I glance at the missed calls and texts on my phone. A few from Mason, some random ones from friends, but most of them are from Haley. I can’t bring myself to answer any of them. It’s not that I don’t want to. The pain gets worse when I contemplate putting words together to say to any of them—the people who have been my entire world. The people I should be walking into Edgewood High with this morning. Instead, I’m stuck with complete strangers who rub a dog’s ass.

Walking through the halls, I find the front office. A woman with gray hair and glasses attached to a beaded string stands behind the desk, speaking to a nervous student. I stand back until the other victim leaves and the office lady summons me forward.

“I’m a new student. My name is Quinn Caine.”

“Ah-ha. Caine-Bennett. Yes, your mother called this morning to make sure we had everything ready. Here’s your schedule. Here’s a pamphlet with a map of the school. Your locker assignment is on the back. If you have any questions, just pop into the office anytime.” Tilting her head down, she looks over her glasses at me. “I’m always here.”

“Um, thanks.” I’m sure she meant it in a nice way but something about her statement made me uneasy. Or maybe it was just the fact that her bizarre manner is a part of my new normal. I glance at my schedule and see my stepdad’s name written in pen behind my name.

The secretary snaps her fingers, beckoning a student who’s leaning on the end of the counter, speaking with another student. “Elliot. I need you to show Quinn around. Give her the grand tour.”

He tilts his head glancing in my direction as the secretary beckons the next student to her desk. “Grand tour, huh? You must really be important.”

“I’m not.” The words leave my lips just as flatly as they feel in my chest.

“I don’t believe you,” he smirks, grabbing my messenger bag before slinging it over his shoulder.

“I don’t give a shit what you believe.”

He chuckles, taking the schedule from my hand as we enter the hallway. He stops suddenly, turning with wide eyes, shocked. The smirk nowhere to be found on his face. “Bennett? As in Barker Bennett?”

The name somewhat rings a bell. It takes me a moment to recall that it’s Nathan’s dad. “Yes, he’s my stepdad’s dad.”

“Ah, so you are important, Quinn Caine-Bennett.”

“Are you always this ludicrous? I just said he’s my stepdad’s dad. I haven’t even met the man. I just met my stepdad two weeks ago.” My anger boils over as I say a lot more than planned to a complete stranger in front of me. And that smirk has returned to his face.

He doesn’t say a word as I follow him down the hallway. Stopping in middle of the corridor, I look around, waiting to see my first class when he points to a wall lined with oil paintings of gray-haired men and woman. Each portrait is at least eight feet tall.

It takes me a moment to realize that the one he’s pointing to has a polished gold plate at the bottom of the painting that reads Barker Bennett.

“Well, that’s just flippin’ fantastic,” I mumble under my breath, irritated that Candace or Nathan hadn’t mentioned this latest development ahead of time.

“Oh, yes. He is magnificent!” Elliot says, raising his voice on the last word as his arms rise in the air, hailing or worshipping the painting. I’m not sure which would be worse, but either prospect creeps me out all the same.

“You can’t tell anyone,” I whisper-yell as I pull his arms down from their still-saluting position.

“What?” his disbelief is evident in his high-pitched tone as I continue walking down the hall, noticing a few curious eyes already watching us. “Your grandpa built the south wing. You are totally royalty level.”

Letting out a sigh, I snatch my schedule from his hand. “He’s not my grandpa. I don’t even know the man and even if I did, I don’t want to be anyone at this school. Hopefully, I won’t even be here long enough for anyone to remember my name.”

“You’ve already missed out on that pipe dream, Quinn Caine-Bennett.”

“Stop calling me that. My name is Quinn Caine. That’s it. Quinn. Caine.”

“Fine, Quinn Caine,” he laughs, mocking me as we walk down the hallway, “have it your way, but that golden ticket might come in handy during your brief stay here.”

His good-natured charm is really pissing me off, mainly because it’s making me actually like him. I don’t want to like anyone here. Elliot is exactly the type of friend I’d hope to surround myself with if I wasn’t currently living an endless nightmare. I don’t want to get attached to anyone or anything ever again. The thought of my house comes to mind … my home with my dad. The one place I may be able to make some sense out of what happened.