by Callie Rose
Before I could respond, she turned and stalked off across the quad. I slowly pried open my clenched fists, staring at her retreating back.
Fucking hell.
I told the Princes about the encounter the next morning, and none of them seemed happy—although none of them seemed that surprised either. I certainly wasn’t. Adena hated me more than ever, and the stronger she and Preston got, the less concerned she seemed to be about any backlash from the Princes or the admins if she went after me.
It made me nervous. Enough so that I didn’t push back when the Princes starting hovering more than usual.
When I told Leah what Adena had been up to, she shook her head, her pixie face crinkling in a frown. “God, she’s such a fucking bitch. I mean, honestly, it’s probably a good thing the Princes have your back. Adena doesn’t fight fucking fair. And there aren’t many people in this school she’s scared of.”
But Adena must’ve been at least a little scared of the Princes, because for the next two days, she ignored me entirely. Preston and the rest of her squad did too, and I took advantage of the reprieve, focusing on getting through the rest of my finals. Even though I still hoped to get a call inviting me to join the Pacific Contemporary Ballet in L.A., I wanted to graduate from Oak Park with a good academic record. I wanted to go to a good college someday, even if it wasn’t right away.
My last final of the semester was on Friday—Calculus II. Math had never been my favorite subject, and I really hated Calculus, but I pulled out every scrap of knowledge in my head and left the room feeling reasonably confident.
My brain felt a little mushy, and wondered if I could talk Leah or the Princes into going to the beach with me. I wanted to stick my feet in the sand, listen to the waves, and not have to think for a while.
It was just before three when I stepped out of Craydon, trotted down the stairs—
And stopped.
A crowd of students peppered the quad, other kids who’d gotten released from their finals early. I’d been expecting that, since the semester was winding down.
But what had caught me by surprise was that none of them were moving.
Instead, they were clustered around lampposts and trees, reading the sheets of paper that’d been stuck to every available surface, or gathered in small clusters staring down at loose pages. As I stood at the base of the steps, a sheaf of papers was tossed from a top-floor window of Hammond Hall, the white rectangles falling in jagged slow motion as the air caught them.
I blinked, moving to pick up a piece of paper that already lay on the sidewalk several feet ahead of me. A buzz seemed to fill the air, like the thrum of a high-voltage wire, and I realized it was the voices of the students around me—whispering, murmuring, and talking excitedly.
Dread was already creeping up my spine as I stooped to grab the sheet, and as soon as I saw the handwriting on the photocopied page, my blood turned icy.
It was my handwriting.
Blown up to larger than life size, taken from a small black notebook and transferred to a piece of printer paper.
Cole Mercer
father is abusive
founder of the Oak Park royals’ fight club
The list went on, detailing other little things I’d found out about him and his family. Things that hadn’t seemed terribly important, but that I’d written down in case they could be used.
It was all here, the text horrifically enlarged, screaming out from the page.
I wadded the piece of paper in my fist as I took a few more steps forward and grabbed another one. That one detailed the miscellaneous information I’d found about the Princes’ families.
Element Investments - failed company
investment firm
went under in just over a year
Founders - Mercer, Hildebrand, Prescott, Pierce, Van Buren, and Whittaker
who is Adam Pierce?
Dates and other tidbits I’d dug up were listed in my messy scrawl. Half of it was shorthand to myself, almost meaningless without explanation. But it didn’t matter.
The worst parts didn’t need explanation.
My gaze caught on a web address listed on the bottom of the page, and a new wave of nausea turned my stomach. I dropped into a crouch where I stood, dropping my backpack and rooting around inside until I found my phone. I typed the address in the search bar, and when a YouTube channel popped up, I covered my mouth with my hand.
The videos I’d taken were all posted. The photos had been turned into a slideshow.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
The word beat against my skull in the same rhythm my heart beat against my ribs, and I dropped my phone on the walkway, scrabbling at the side pocket of my backpack.
Every picture, every photocopy—they had all come from one source.
God, no.
I yanked open the pocket, already sure that what I was looking for wouldn’t be there.
But it was.
The little black notebook sat peacefully at the bottom of the small side pouch, taunting me. The elastic band was pulled taught around the pages, keeping them closed, and there was a little lump in the middle where the flash drive was tucked.
It was there. It was still fucking there.
Then how…?
A rustling sound drew my attention, and I looked up as another sheaf of papers was thrown from a high window.
They floated down to the earth like snowflakes.
Like daggers hurled into the wind.
Chapter 24
Eighth period had let out, and more students were pouring from the buildings. That buzzing, electric sound of gossip had gotten louder as more voices joined in.
I swallowed convulsively, my lips going dry as my stomach churned.
It was everything.
Every damaging piece of information I’d dug up on the Princes. Every harmful secret I’d been able to find.
Even the ones that had made my hand shake as I wrote them, even the ones I’d known deep down I could never use—that I wasn’t heartless enough to use.
They were all there, tumbling across the quad in the breeze or grasped in curious hands. Every page of my notebook had been copied dozens of times, the words printed over and over and over.
No. This wasn’t what I wanted.
That thought forced my body into action, and I snatched my backpack off the ground, slinging it over one shoulder as my gaze scanned the quad.
Where were they? They had to be here somewhere, released from classes like the rest of us.
But I couldn’t find them.
Where the fuck are the Princes?
Breath coming in short gasps, I pushed past a group of stragglers emerging from Craydon Hall, glancing both ways before veering right down the corridor. They had to be in here somewhere. Maybe they hadn’t seen yet. I had to—
To what?
Warn them?
What fucking good would that do?
It was too late.
I was practically sprinting down the hall, gathering strange looks from the few kids who hadn’t stepped outside yet. I reached the end of the corridor and turned around, running a hand through my hair.
But as I began to retrace my steps, the side door of the building opened behind me. I whirled to see all four Princes moving toward me, their faces taut and angry.
“Talia!”
Mason’s voice cut like a whip through the empty corridor. There was almost no one left in this part of the building, and the few students that’d lingered scurried away at the sight of the Princes advancing like the four horsemen of the apocalypse.
They moved as a unit, but as they reached me, Mason broke away, his quick strides eating up the floor until he was right in my face.
“What the fuck did you do, little dancer?” he demanded, his green eyes glinting and his voice dangerously soft.
“I didn’t!” I blurted.
He cocked his head, nostrils still flaring. The other three had joined him now, and the wall of anger and raw p
ower bearing down on me made me feel claustrophobic. Their very presence pressed against me like a physical force.
“You didn’t do this?”
“No. It wasn’t me. I fucking swear! I—”
Before I could finish speaking, Cole moved forward, tugging the backpack from my shoulder. The strap slid off easily, and I took a half step forward before arresting the movement.
I knew what he would find. And he’d find it whether I tried to stop him or not.
He dug through the main compartment first, as the other three Princes looked from me to him, an eerie silence falling over the hall. When he didn’t find anything in there, he checked the front pocket, then the sides.
He pulled out the little black notebook, and his jaw tightened. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood as he pulled the black elastic band off and flipped open the pages, letting the small flash drive slide into his palm. His piercing blue eyes darted back and forth as he read, and my body felt like it was eating itself from the inside out as I saw his expression shift.
Then he looked up at me, and I had a fleeting thought that this must be what the Princes had seen on my face the night of the award ceremony.
Not just betrayal.
But… surprise.
He hadn’t thought I would do this. None of them had.
But I didn’t. I didn’t.
Wordlessly, Cole handed the notebook to Mason, keeping the flash drive clutched so tightly in his fist I was sure the metal had to be cutting into his skin.
Mason barely glanced at it. He didn’t need to do more.
It was already flipped open to the section on him and his family.
His features tightened with anger and pain, and he met my gaze, speaking in a low voice.
“Well. You got your revenge, Tal. I hope you’re happy.”
I shook my head, the movement jerky. “No. It wasn’t me.”
He flipped the book closed, his knuckles whitening as he gripped it hard. “This isn’t your book? You didn’t write this?”
“I did.”
My words were quiet, but I might as well have shouted them. Every one of the Princes stiffened, and I saw something like resignation pass over Elijah’s face. They were all angry, but maybe he had suspected all along that something like this was coming.
His words from the night of the fight echoed in my mind.
We hurt you. We deserve to be hurt. It’s just the way the world works, I guess.
Later that night, he had told me a secret I could use to hurt him. Had handed it to me like a gift. Maybe he had even wanted something like this to happen, had hoped for absolution through pain.
But I hadn’t wanted this.
The five of us could play the game of vengeance forever, taking turns plotting our revenge until we were all wrecked, bloodied, and beaten.
But I had chosen to stop it. To end it.
I hadn’t wanted this.
Mason’s emerald eyes glinted like glass, but I straightened my spine, pushing back against the force of his anger. I kept my voice steady as I continued.
“That’s my notebook. I wrote every single word in it. And for a long time, I thought you all deserved nothing more than to have it plastered all over school. There’s a part of me that still sometimes thinks so.” I raised my hand, gesturing in the direction of the quad. “But I did not do that.”
His jaw ticked, and he opened his mouth to speak, but I overrode him before he could.
“This is your chance, Mason. To trust me. To prove that anything is different—that anything has changed.” My heart thudded hard in my chest, but I lifted my chin almost defiantly as I spoke. “I’m not lying. I admit the notebook is mine. I took the videos and pictures, and I know you know why I did that. Hell, I learned from the fucking best. But I’m telling you, that’s where it ended for me. I didn’t make those copies; I didn’t put them up. I decided not to. And you can either choose to believe me, or you can hate me—and we'll start this game all over again.”
A line appeared between his brows as I spoke, and when I stopped talking, a heavy silence fell in the hallway again. The murmur of voices outside was quiet enough that I couldn’t hear it from in here—tucked away in this wing of Craydon Hall, we could almost pretend the scene outside had never happened.
But it had.
And just like what the Princes had done to me, the consequences would be devastating and far-reaching.
“I believe you, Tal.”
It wasn’t Mason who spoke. It was Elijah, and although he still looked a little sick—those naked photos, the rehab story, fucking Jesus—his expression had softened a little from anger to understanding, his hazel gaze locked on mine.
“Yeah. I believe you too, Legs.” Finn nodded, then shook his head immediately after, glancing at the notebook in Mason’s hand. “That book though. Fuck.”
Cole’s eyes were shuttered, and I hated the agony I knew his blank expression hid. Maybe to an outside observer, it would seem like a good thing that his abuser had been named, called out publicly—that shining a light on it would stop the abuse. But I knew it was never that simple, especially when money, power, and privilege were involved.
He drew in a sharp breath, and the violence that lived in him pulsed under his skin. But then he nodded.
“You didn’t do it. I know you didn’t.”
Tears burned the backs of my eyes at the conviction in his voice, and I turned to Mason, waiting for him to speak.
He’d been the one to start this all.
He’d been the one determined to bring me down, to make me pay for my mother’s sins.
And he had hated the Hildebrands for so long.
I had decided to stop the cycle, to interrupt the pattern. But now that the information had gotten out anyway, maybe it was too late. Maybe it had always been too late for Mason to let go of his rage and resentment, to see me as anything but a reincarnation of my mother—someone who needed to be punished for her cruelty. Maybe the five of us would ride the runaway freight train of revenge until it flew off the tracks and killed us all.
The notebook was still clutched in his hand in the space between us, and he was staring at me so intently it was like he wanted to crawl inside my soul. Like that was the only way he could know for certain.
But that wasn’t how trust worked.
Trust was something you gave even when you didn’t know for certain.
I reached up and grasped the small black book, wrapping my fingers around it over his. He jolted at the contact, his gaze flying to the connection between us. I squeezed tightly, just like I had in his kitchen the night he’d told me about his mom, and when he looked back at me, I shook my head.
“Mason. I didn’t want this.”
Something broke in his expression, like a marble statue shattering. A cascade of emotions ran across his face, and he let out a shuddering breath, his muscles unclenching slightly.
“I… believe you.”
The vise gripping my heart eased, and for the first time in months, it felt like there was enough space in my chest for the organ to function fully. I hadn’t expected Mason to say that, had been mentally preparing myself to reset the pieces and start another round of this fucked up game.
But he had taken my word.
With no proof.
Because he trusted me.
My tight grip on the book and his hand loosened, but I didn’t move, letting the connection flow between us through the contact of our skin. I couldn’t look away from his beautiful, tortured, open eyes.
“Still leaves the question of who did do this,” Finn said darkly as Mason and I stared at each other. “’Cause someone fucking did.”
Certainty hit me like a cold block of ice.
“Adena,” I whispered. “It was Adena.”
From the moment I had realized what the falling sheets of paper outside contained, my focus had been on finding the Princes, getting them to listen, making them understand that I hadn’t been the one to sabotage them like
this. Up until Finn spoke, I’d barely thought about who had been responsible for creating and distributing the copies of my notebook pages.
But two memories had been bouncing around in my head, just waiting for me to focus on them to make the connection.
“The other day,” I said softly. “When she and her fucking minions all crowded around me in the quad—one of them must’ve stolen the book from my backpack then. And when she threatened me again later that afternoon, she probably slipped it back in my bag. She didn’t want to keep it long, because if I’d realized it was gone, I would’ve been suspicious. I would’ve warned you.”
“Fucking hell.” Finn raked a hand through his hair, glancing down the corridor like he might see Adena and Preston come walking up any second. “That cunt.”
“How did she know about it?” Elijah asked.
Now that they’d established it wasn’t me who’d made the copies, the entire tone in the hallway had shifted. Anger still seethed around all four of them, but I could see them shifting into damage-control mode, trying to figure out where to go from here, how to deal with the fallout, and what to do about Adena.
“I don’t know.” I shook my head, wracking my brain. I had carried the notebook everywhere with me because I’d thought it was safer that way—there was no chance someone could break into my locker or sneak into my room and steal it.
But… Adena had seen me writing in it once. I was almost positive she hadn’t read anything over my shoulder when she’d approached me, but maybe she hadn’t needed to. Maybe she’d just seen how quickly I’d snapped the little book closed, how carefully I’d guarded it, and had decided she wanted whatever was inside.
Then a new thought occurred to me, and my stomach dropped.
“When—when she threatened me the other day, she said something about how you guys couldn’t keep me safe. That you couldn’t stop her. I thought she was just talking shit like always, but she must’ve meant this. She knew she was going to take you down.”
“We’re not down yet, Legs,” Finn reminded me with a grimace that tried to be a smile. “We’ll figure something out. We’ll deal with her.”
I nodded, but cold worry prickled my spine.