Wreck Me (Corrupt Legacy Series #2)

None of us is big on social interaction, except for Blake, but Bailey is the one who always finds out things about everything and everyone.

“Then why the special treatment?” Kaden asks.

“He’s trouble,” I state the obvious.

“It’s not our trouble if we don’t let it be,” he replies, sending me a pointed look. Kaden and I, we just know each other too well.

With that, we walk inside. The school hallway fills with students. It’s a wide and arched pathway, hardwood and cement, creating a perfect symmetry to add a touch of old refinement.

Everyone makes room for us. It has been like this since we were children. Kaden halts in front of his locker and looks at nothing and no one in particular.

“One day, Kaden.” I try to infuse hope into him.

“And yet, it’s another day without her.”

“She’s better off without this.”

“Keep reminding me I made the right decision, and one day, I might believe it.”

I wrap my arms around him. He stiffens, not liking to be touched, but I have to sell us as a couple. You never know who is watching. The Family has eyes and ears everywhere.

I pat him on his back, and he drags in a deep lungful of air. I feel gazes on us and I look straight ahead, hating the attention.

As I watch Kaden leave for his class, a thought paralyzes me. His weakness led to the initiation. As long as I have none, I am safe—a coward, most certainly, but self-preservation is better than walking around half alive.

A body bumps into me, violently ripping me from my thoughts. I stumble, completely startled. A hand catches my elbow, keeping me from falling on my face.

When I am steady, I turn on my heel, lips pursed. Bottomless brown eyes pin me. For the most ordinary eye color, his are a rich, deep color with black flecks flickering in them.

“Watch where you’re going.” My voice rises to a high pitch, taking me by surprise. I never lose my composure.

His hand digs into my skin. His touch lights a small fire, but I stomp right on it.

“Princess, then daydream somewhere other than the middle of the hallway.” His voice is deep, carrying a hoarse note.

There’s nothing unappealing about him.

Craning my neck, I dig a finger into his chest. “Or you could have just passed me by.”

His jaw tics, that carved jaw and those high cheekbones becoming even more prominent. He might be the most scrumptious guy I have ever seen.

“Where would the fun be in that?”

My mouth hangs open in shock, and he has the audacity to grip my chin, saying, “The gaping fish look doesn’t suit you.”

Every nerve ending in my being vibrates from annoyance. The nerve of this guy. Oh no, I will not let this stand.

“Get to your classes,” I say to the onlookers I catch in my peripheral vision, but my glare remains fixed on him. Students scurry away, and I grip his elbow. The touch flames me up again. So disconcerting. He trails his eyes from my hand on him to my lips, then fixes those deep browns on mine. The heat is too much, so I let go of his arm, dropping it like it’s a ball of fire.

A flutter starts in my belly, yet strangely, it’s not the nervous kind that has me not wanting to eat anything.

“Listen, because I won’t repeat myself. I don’t care who you are, but at this school, no one disrespects me. No one interacts with me without me initiating it. Are we clear?”

He leans into me. He even smells good: a woodsy scent with a hint of spice and bergamot, stealing the breath from my lungs.

My lips tingle, and goose bumps spread over my skin. I must have caught something. That’s the only rational explanation. I am allergic to him.

“I don’t give a fuck about social hierarchy.”