Page 4 of A Knight’s Revenge: The Complete Series
CHAPTER THREE
“ H oney, you’re still sure about this? It’s not too late to change your mind.”
Laura flitted around the bookstore—her baby, left to her by her grandmother and mercifully free and clear of any Family connection—and she was obviously trying to keep herself busy so that she didn’t have to think about the fact that I was leaving.
Max and I had stopped in downstairs to tell her goodbye, and I appreciated how hard she was trying to act like she wasn’t moping.
“Mom, chill,” Max drawled from where he was perched on top of an empty display table, his long legs dangling. “Dad’s trained her for this for, like, the entire time she’s been with us. Have some faith.”
“I know that,” Laura replied, heaving a big sigh. “I just…. I wish there was another way.”
There wasn’t. “The Academy is my way in, Laura,” I said. “There’s no good way to get close to any of the heads of the Families, but we know that the Heirs are basically left alone within the walls of the school. It’s my only shot at getting what I need.”
She frowned. “And you’re sure those boys aren’t going to recognize you? You were so close with them for most of your life.”
“They won’t,” I said, as sure of that as I was of anything.
And I’d be shocked if I really recognized them , either, after what their parents would have molded them into since that night. The feelings associated with the bond we’d once shared were such a distant memory now, like a pleasant dream I’d once had that morphed into a nightmare.
I didn’t have close friends anymore. I had Max. I had my aunt and uncle. I sort of had Bruce when he wasn’t being an ornery shit.
I didn’t need anything else.
“I’ll be checking in a lot,” I added, trying to reassure her. “And then when this is all over, we’re going to take my inheritance and disappear to an island to do nothing but lie on the beach and drink Mai Tais for the rest of our days.”
“Fuck yeah,” Max chirped.
She finally cracked a smile, then she threw her arms around me, squeezing tight. “I can’t wait. Just come home soon, okay?”
“I will,” I said as I hugged her back, even though I wasn’t sure I would.
Once I was in, nothing was going to pull my focus from my plans.
“I can’t believe you didn’t want to have one last hurrah with everyone at the gym last night,” Max griped at me.
We sat on the train, each of us with a large duffle bag containing my paltry belongings shoved onto the seat next to us, and we’d just begun the ride toward the Northside. After a few stops, we’d travel over the bridge and into the City.
“Again, it’s not like I won’t be back,” I retorted. “I’m sure I’ll hop back in the cage over the holidays—you know, dust the cobwebs off.”
“Everyone was asking about you. Especially Jennings.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, like a dick.
“Ugh, no thank you. He’ll get ideas.”
Max cackled, always reveling in the “trail of broken hearts” he claimed I left among the guys at Dom’s gym.
It was ridiculous, because that “trail” was, like, two guys, seeing as my options were pretty limited if I didn’t want Max’s sloppy seconds—which I did not.
Max did not discriminate as to the gender of the person he hooked up with, and he’d been the one breaking hearts in that gym and at school since he hit puberty .
It seemed to me that we’d had an above-average number of bi-awakenings amongst all the gym bros that frequented Dom’s, but what did I know?
Max tossed a muscled arm over my shoulder. “I’ll let him down gently next time I see him.”
“Maybe you should see if his one lackluster night with me left him with an interest in dick,” I retorted, elbowing him in the ribs.
“I would, but he’s such a lost little puppy about you. A cute one, though.”
I sighed. Relationships did not interest me. There wasn’t enough space in my head or my fractured heart for anyone who wasn’t my family. Plus, there was the whole thing about how I was in hiding . Getting close to someone new was never worth the risk.
“Yeah, but—” I froze, a familiar voice drawing my attention to the small flat-screen TVs mounted along the walls of the sleek train cars, set permanently on the local news station unless they were announcing a stop.
“The Knight industries are b-booming, of course,” the man behind the podium stammered, trying to put on a confident smile.
“We are so fortunate to have continued to grow even after the tragedy that took my family from us. It wouldn’t have been possible without the help…
without the guidance and support of the remaining Families.
I expect our third quarter to be our best yet. ”
The man took a few softball questions from the press before hurrying from the stage.
“He’s looking thinner,” Max remarked. “And a hell of a lot older than thirty-five.”
“Yep,” I murmured, falling into the daze that always overcame me when I was faced with what was left of my family. “I doubt he can take a shit without James Spencer breathing down his neck. I hope they at least let him have a Xanax prescription.”
The man was my uncle—my real uncle—Anders Nilsson.
He was my mom’s much younger brother, and while I hadn’t known him well, I had some fleeting memories of him, all youthful and goofy, blowing through our penthouse every once in a while before traipsing off on whatever adventure he was having.
Sometimes he’d brought me a present from his travels when he visited .
It had been his very unfortunate luck that he’d decided to settle down for a while and get a “real job” with Knight a few months before my parents were murdered and our Family empire stolen.
My dad had only just brought Anders onto his personal team to train him, so instead of gallivanting around the globe when everything went to shit, he was trapped here.
For seven years, he’d been the shaky figurehead of Knight, slowly unraveling before our eyes while he was used to add a kernel of legitimacy to the fiction that there were still four distinct empires—though he could never be head of the Family because he was not a Knight.
He was just a puppet whose strings were pulled by James Spencer, Andrea Ferrero, and Peter Hargraves.
I was sad for him, my only living blood relative, but it would’ve been far too risky to ever reach out to him to let him know I was alive. He was under the thumb of the Families now.
As the train pulled into its last stop before we’d cross the bridge, I found myself absently rubbing at the charm I wore on a long chain around my neck, usually safely hidden between my boobs.
It was a rose gold cherry blossom that my dad had given me as a late birthday present only a few months before he died and the only possession I had from my old life since Dom had burned the blood-soaked clothes I’d crossed the river in.
I’d almost left it locked in a little safe I kept under my bunk, but I decided it would be best to take it with me, keeping it close to my heart as a reminder of why I was at the Academy in the first place.
“It’s time, Mom and Dad,” I whispered.
Max hugged me tighter.
We changed trains in the City center, hopping onto the direct line to the Academy.
I was thankful the trains went underground in the City proper so I didn’t have to exit the station under the shadow of fucking Spencer Tower even for a second, instead reemerging into the light of day a block from the front gate of Holywell Academy on the far west side of the City.
“Damn,” Max said with a low whistle as we approached the gate. “We are not in Southside anymore, Dorothy. ”
“Hey,” I huffed, elbowing him. “Act like you’ve been places.”
I’d certainly been places, at least in my previous life, but even I had to stand at the wrought iron gate and gawk for a minute as I took in Holywell Academy.
A redbrick sidewalk lined with stately trees led to the main academic building, creatively named Holywell Hall, since the entire school had once been housed there back when it was built in 1897.
It was as long as a football field and five stories tall, made of old gray stones and flanked by turrets that jutted even a few stories higher.
Arched windowpanes dotted every floor, and there were honest-to-God gargoyles perched along the roof.
I could see the cluster of more modern dorm buildings off to the left of Holywell Hall, and to the right was the gothic cathedral that now housed the library.
Somewhere beyond the main campus were the athletic facilities, and the Academy’s boathouse would be located along its western border by the riverfront.
“Name?” The bored gate guard held out his hand, barely looking at either of us.
I handed him the Academy ID that had arrived in the mail last week. “Joanna Miller. My cousin, Max Miller, should be on the list to escort me in.”
He scrolled unhurriedly on his sleek black tablet, the white horse logo of Knight peeking out from behind his gloved hand, then he droned, “You’re in C Dorm, room 302.
Your ID will be activated to allow you access through any of the campus gates, the Academy buildings, and your dorm room.
Your school tablet will be in your room.
Please review the welcome packet before classes begin tomorrow. ”
“Download successful,” Max chirped at him.
He gave us a droll look before pressing a button somewhere inside his little guard hut, and the gate began to slowly swing open, its hinges creaking loudly.
We made our way down the long sidewalk and then around the left side of Holywell Hall toward the west side of campus where the dorms were located.
There were a few people out and about, most of them looking like bright-eyed freshman wandering the grounds with their impeccably dressed parents, but otherwise it was a quiet Sunday at the Academy .