Page 64 of The Ruthless Note

Christa’s eyes are bright with hatred and alcohol. She screams into my face, and the stench of liquor is as abrasive as her high-pitched voice.

“You’re gonna pay for this!”

Her yelling draws the Redwood Prep kids outside. They stream out of the house like they paid to watch an MMA fight.

Paris is looking on with her eyes wide and darting between me and Christa.The little punk. She aggravated Christa and now I'm the one who's taking the heat for it.

Christa hauls her hand back to slap me, but a blur speeds into my line of sight. Someone grabs her wrist.

I glance up and realize that I’m wrong.

There are two hands restraining Christa.

One belongs to Sol.

The other to…

Dutch.

Sol releases Christa’s hand first. He turns to me. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” I say shakily.

“Get out of here, Christa,” Dutch orders.

“Oh, I see! Now that you got what you wanted, you think this is over? I won’t go down by myself, Dutch! I’ll drag everyone with me!”

Dutch makes eye contact with his brothers. Zane and Finn march forward stonily and grip Christa’s arms. They’re both needed because the cheerleader is bucking like a bull.

The cameras are rolling. Redwood is filming the second disgraceful fall of Christa Miller.

I almost feel sorry for her. She wrapped her entire identity in being the queen of Redwood Prep and look where that got her? Now, the very people who used to fear her are laughing at her. And her ‘friends’? They’ve abandoned her.

I’d stand up for her if my head wasn’t throbbing from where she tried to make me bald.

Karma is a—

Sol looks at me and runs his fingers through my hair, smoothing down the strands. “Does it hurt?”

“Not that much,” I whisper quietly.

He wraps gentle fingers around my wrist. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

I take one step in his direction when my entire body jolts back.

Someone just hauled me backward.

I glance down. There’s another hand around my wrist.

And it’s not Sol’s.

CHAPTERFIFTEEN

CADENCE

My eyes drift higher, moving from the brawny hands wrapped around my arm…

... to the ink crawling over bulging biceps…