See No Evil (Brotherhood Trilogy #1)

He hasn’t touched me since the dean caught us fighting, but I know my time will be coming soon. He’ll be plotting evil while away for Thanksgiving…but I’ll be ready for him when he comes back. The guys have promised to help me out and I know they will.

Over the ten days leading up to this break they’ve slowly pulled me into their group. I still eat meals by myself, but they acknowledge me in class now and in the evenings, they’ve made a habit of sneaking into my room. I don’t mind so much. The more we hang out, the more I like them. Kade’s funny, Riley’s intense but so intelligent, and Trey’s… My lips curl into a smile.

I love the way he explained the rules to me when we watched the hockey game on the weekend, the way he subtly catches my eye when I walk into a room. He’s so quietly protective, so strong yet sweet. His smile makes my stomach quiver…in that delicious, addictive way. It makes me want to hang out with him as much as I can.

We did our homework together both Wednesday and Thursday nights. He wants to study business and marketing.

“I just want to set myself up so that I don’t have to rely on anyone. I want to be self-sufficient. I don’t…want to need any of my dad’s money.”

“Why?”

His jaw worked to the side and he shrugged. “It’ll just be better for everyone that way.”

The sad look on his face stopped me from asking any more questions. Instead I smiled and made us get on with it. I thought it was great what he wanted to do. Trey would make an excellent businessman. He’s driven and determined…and honest.

A shudder runs down my spine as I think about Dad and wonder how honest his business transactions have been over the years. My guesses depress me.

“Mr. Lorden!” Dean Hancock snaps me back to the present. “Stop messing around up here and get down to the kitchen. Your break doesn’t start until after Ms. Beasley excuses you.”

“Yes, sir,” I mumble, heading away from him.

His clompy shoes chase me down the hall. I scramble ahead, not wanting to get caught in conversation with him, but I don’t get off that easy. As soon as we pop out of the stairwell he pulls me up short.

“Before I leave, I want to make it clear that you are to be on your best behavior. A few students always remain throughout this time. Mr. Adler and Coach Baxter are going to be in charge while I’m gone. You’re already on rocky ground. Do not make this a challenging time for either of them.”

“Yes, sir.” I look to the floor.

“It doesn’t sit easy with me that the only students remaining this time around are the three next to you. Don’t let them lead you astray.”

“They’re good guys, sir.”

He humphs and gives me a dry stare down.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and force myself to smile. “I’ll be good. I swear.”

“You better be or kitchen duties will be the least of your worries.”

And with that sweet sentiment, he walks out of the building like the superior ass he is.

I watch him leave and then lope to the kitchen, dreading what awaits me.

Swinging the doors wide, I walk in to find the place nearly spotless. Ms. Beasley comes bustling up to me, her ruddy cheeks bright from exertion.

“You’re late.”

“By like two minutes. What’s going on in here?”

“You have some good friends.” She winks at me.

I frown and step forward to glance around the corner. Trey is pulling a pair of rubber gloves off while Riley throws a dirty dishtowel in the hamper. Kade wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and notices me gaping at them.

Pointing a long finger at me, he gives me a warning look. “Don’t expect this every morning. But we’ve only got a week to knock that wimpy loser out of you and we figure we need all the time we can get.”

I tip my head and flip him off with both hands.

Riley laughs.

Ms. Beasley tuts and slaps my shoulder. “Now be good, you little rascals, or there’ll be no special dinner tomorrow night.”

I smile as she bustles away, reminding me of a flustered chef from one of those shows like Downton Abbey. Mom used to watch it.

Mom.

I wonder how she’ll be feeling this Thanksgiving.

Am I ever going to see her again? Listen to her titter as she sips on her wine while watching TV? Or hear her heels tap on the tiles as she prepares to leave the house in her chic attire, acting like a glamorous celebrity? When I was a kid, I used to want to be her.

A piercing arrow fires right through me.

It’s hard to breathe.

Kade slaps me on the back, snapping me out of my numbing moment. “Come on, you little weed. Let’s go put some muscles on those bones.”

“What?”

Yanking my arm, he pulls me out of the kitchen and I’m dragged out to the athletics field where we start with basic training.

So much for a relaxing Thanksgiving.

The guys work me like a dog.

We start with a jog around the track, then stop after three laps to do sit-ups until my tummy aches, and push-ups until my arms are ready to snap.

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