by Mae Doyle
It’s then that I see it. I don’t know how Nora didn’t notice that something was wrong, but she’s still walking to the school like nothing’s amiss. Out of the corner of my eye I see someone stretching, pulling off their shirt. More and more students start to strip, pulling off their jackets and t-shirts to show something that they have on underneath.
“Is this the walk of shame?” Bethany appears out of nowhere, probably spat up from the bowels of hell, and stands in front of Nora, blocking her path. “Is the bet finally over?”
Nora doesn’t answer. Instead, she pushes past Bethany to get to the school, but when Bethany holds her arm out to stop her, Nora finally looks up. That’s when she sees what’s going on and what people are wearing.
All around us the other students have stripped off their outer layers to reveal custom t-shirts printed with Nora’s face. She’s throwing up in all of them, her face huge and splashed across the chest of everyone around us, except Bethany, of course. She’s in her cheerleader outfit, twirling her ponytail and watching Nora.
“Nora!” I call her name but she doesn’t look around. Running up next to her, I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her close. When she doesn’t resist, I know that things are bad. Turning to her, lean close to her ear. “Come on, Nora, let’s go.”
She doesn’t move. I hear her breathing change as it hitches. She’s gasping for air, practically drowning on her own panic, and there’s nothing I can do. Students press in around us, their grotesque shirts
“You fucking bitch.” The words fall from her and taken Bethany by surprise, but Nora doesn’t stop. “I hate you, Bethany. You’re a fucking whore, you know that?” Her anger is palpable and I can feel her shaking as she spits venom at Bethany.
It has to feel good, and I feel hope rise in my chest. If she’s this mad at Bethany then there’s a very good chance that she won’t turn her ire on me. I squeeze her side, reminding her that I’m here, but then she turns on me, pulling away from my side.
“And you!” She hisses at me, her dark eyes boring into mine. Ever since the moment I saw her, I haven’t seen her look this angry. This dangerous. This fucking gorgeous. “You knew about this, didn’t you? You bastard.”
“I didn’t!” I can’t help but fight for her to know that I didn’t have anything to do with this. Sure, I made bets about taking her virginity, and I almost raped her in the woods, but this? This is underhanded. Shaking my head, I frown, and reach for her again. “I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
Doubt flashes in her eyes, but she shakes her head. “I don’t believe you, Teague. You’ve hated me from the moment you saw me.”
Bethany’s voice breaks through the silence that’s growing between us. “He has, you know, Nora. He’s hated you from day one and even if he didn’t have anything to do with this, he might as well have. We could have been friends, you know.”
Nora spins to face her. “We would never have been friends. Rot in hell.” Yanking her arm away from me, she turns and storms to the building, ignoring the way everyone is looking at her.
“Pop! Her! Cher-ry! Pop! Her! Cher-ry!” It’s Bethany, starting a chant, and I can’t believe it when everyone else joins in.
“Pop! Her! Cher-ry!” They keep chanting, even the nerds and the goth kids, pumping their fists in time as they chant, their eyes locked on Nora. Bethany’s beaming, the ringleader to her own personal circus. “Pop! Her! Cher-ry!”
Nora ducks her head and breaks into a run, trying to make it into the building, but she’s not fast enough. The apple core comes out of nowhere and hits her on the back, making her stumble. Gasping, I take a step forward, but the crowd begins to close around her, blocking my path to her.
I do see it when she turns, though. Her eyes lock onto mine, fire blazing behind them. Even after all I’ve done to her, I’ve never seen her look this angry. It courses through her body and threatens to consume her, but she channels it, staring at me like she’s going to destroy me.
A shiver runs through me as I think about Nora trying to destroy me, trying to drag me down to her level. It gives me a bit of a thrill. Without thinking, I reach up and wave, giving her a little half-salute.
The fire burns brighter behind her eyes and she turns, throwing open the door to the school as more trash is launched at her. She’s not hiding. I know that from the way she looked at me. She’s just regrouping. I thought that I was the only hunter of Kennedy Academy, but I’ve just met my match.
TO BE CONTINUED
Revenge. Lies. Redemption. Find out what happens next with Nora and Teague in the third book of the Kennedy Academy series, Trophy.
There’s only so much a person can take before they break.
Teague pushed me to the edge, and I shattered before I tumbled over it.
He thinks he’s the hunter?
Well, I’m tired of playing the role of his prey.
If Teague thinks that he’s going to walk away from this, then he’s wrong.
Dead wrong.
He may still be the hunter, but I’m no longer running scared.
Contain triggers and is only for mature audiences. This wonderfully dark final novel wraps up the series and focuses on Nora and Teague. They’ll get the HEA they deserve, but they’ll have to go through hell for it.
The kids at Kennedy Prep aren’t there to make friends. In order to survive, Nora has to learn how to play their games, and eventually beat them at them.
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