Page 27 of The Darkest Note

It’s diabolical. It’s cruel. I don’t have to guess which brother came up with the idea.

“Let me go!” I fight him, flailing my arms and struggling to escape his grasp.

“Watch it, New Girl.” He jerks me around and my skirt flails around my legs. I look back, out of breath and realize that I’d been about to knock into his shiny guitar.

Dutch jerks me forward and I collide in his chest. His eyes rove my face. “We all know you wouldn’t have been able to afford your tuition if not for our family’s money. You had a chance to live on the other side for a while. You’re welcome. In return, all we’re asking is for you to bow out nice and quiet. You can do that, can’t you?”

My nostrils flare. It’s one thing to make ridiculous demands out of nowhere. It’s another to look down on me because I’m poor. Who the hell does he think he is?

I tilt my chin up. “What if I don’t?”

“If you don’t,” his lips move over mine, so close I can smell his cinnamon-scented breath, “then I will make it my personal mission to destroy you.”

His eyes are stone-cold. He means every word.

His flaming antagonism scrapes against the depths of my soul. The part of me that believes in justice and good and fairness shrivels inside.

All my life, I made it through by believing that good exists and things have to work out in the end. I clung to that truth. I had to. When all you’re surrounded by is pain and darkness—there’s no choice but to hold on to something intangible.

Beautiful idealisms.

Unreachable dreams.

But Dutch Cross just took a baton to my house of cards and smashed it to the ground. I realize just how powerless I really am in this world. Pluckiness? Hard work? Bull crap.

Everything about my existence is moldable. No matter how much pride I have, I’m nothing but a plaything in the hands of the rich and powerful. The hand grabbing mine is proof.

It’s disappointment, more than it is the hurt, that spurs the rage through my veins. How dare he steal my hope? That tiny little flower that managed to survive beneath mounds of dirt and garbage. How dare he take such a precious thing from me—my own distorted ideals—and tear it to shreds?

I slam him with my angry eyes and I see the moment he takes note of my expression. A glimmer of amusement passes through his face. And I hate him for that too.

“I wouldn’t suggest you choose the hard road, New Girl.” His fingers slide down my torso and hook in the gaping hole of my shirt. Somehow, in all the scuffling, the pin came undone. There’s a hint of pale flesh peeking at Dutch and his eyes fix there like a predator.

He hooks his ringed finger in the gap and tugs me forward. “I’d really enjoy the chance to break you.”

My body trembles from head to toe, but it’s not because of my earlier, pitiful infatuation. In fact, I’m more ashamed than ever that I’d fallen for the Cross brothers’ spell. Especially him.

The spawn of evil himself.

Dutch is breathing in my fear like a drug. I feel the darkness vibrating in his bones and it rumbles against my skin.

This feels personal.

But why? What could I have possibly done to deserve this cruelty? I’ve never met these boys in my life. Even if I did, I would have passed them by, knowing that I’m just a speck of dirt on their perfect, pristine worlds.

“There’s only one right answer,” Dutch says into my ear. “Let me hear it, New Girl.”

“You really think you can break me?” I grind out.

One corner of his lips hitches up.

I curl my fingers into fists and launch them at him. He easily wraps his fingers around my wrists and drives me back. I hit the wall so hard that my breath pops out of my open lips.

His body presses against mine. Until I can feel all of him. Until the weight of him is practically sinking into me.

He leans down. The words he delivers hit my neck like tiny daggers. A vampire’s bite. “Don’t excite me at the thought of a fight, New Girl. I’m trying so hard to end this now.”

“Dutch.” Zane’s voice sounds behind us.