Page 18 of Loving the Tormentor

She opens her mouth, probably to say thank you, but is cut off by the strength of his handshake and the round of applause. Flashes. Journalists shouting questions, and she's just stuck there with her big eyes now in slits from the flashes.

"Oh God. She'snotused to this," Ella says with compassion in her voice.

She looks like her arm would fall limp if my dad wasn't holding her hand.

"This is so painful to watch," Chris adds, sounding pained.

Nyx is released from my dad's grip, and he leaves without so much as another look toward her.

"I'm gonna go say hi," Peach announces. "I met her at the women's shelter last year. She was temporarily homeless a few times. I bet she could use a familiar face."

"I'll come along," Ella adds as they head her way.

"Achilles," Wren calls, dragging my gaze away from Nyx. "I know you won't be the most welcoming person to her, but at least don't eat her whole, yeah?"

I shrug. "If she isn't smart enough to stay away from this fucked-up world, there's nothing I can do for the girl."

"Come on." He slaps my shoulder. "Don’t be your sulky self and come welcome her. She'll probably be over the moon that therenowned musicianAchilles Duval says hi to her." He imitates my dad's voice, and my scathing look is enough for him to know he’s touched a sensitive topic. Something he already knew and seems pretty proud of.

"I'll admit, she's an interesting case." I don't add that my curiosity has been piqued since I learned she's a musician.

His smile falls. "Don't fuck the girl up. She probably has enough on her plate as is."

I shrug. "She was in the pictures, Wren."

"From your dad? To initiate?"

I nod. "I remember seeing her face in one of them over the summer. No doubt that's why she got her scholarship. Don't tell anyone yet."

He huffs. "Shit. She probably doesn't even know."

"Whether she's aware or not, anyone who becomes my father's pet project is not someone I'll go easy on, trust me on that."

He observes me silently for long seconds, sliding his hands into the pockets of his suit. He's clearly wondering how to handle me, and that's my favorite thing about our friendship. Wren Hunter is just as fucked up as I am, but he's a wolf in sheep's clothing, whereas everyoneknowsI'm a basket case. It just happens that I'm a hot one, so they find it exciting rather than dangerous. That's their problem, not mine.

"How about…" my friend says as he scratches the side of his head, "leave her alone if she leaves you alone? This poor girl is probably just full of hope that she gets to study here. We can't take that away from her when she didn't do anything wrong."

The smile I offer gives him absolutely zero reassurance. I look down at my phone when I get a text. It's from my dad.

Catherine's jet has landed. Karl is driving me to pick her up. Clark brought your car to campus.

"I'm heading off. Rehearsal."

"You wrote something?" my friend asks hopefully.

"Oh yeah, Wren," I deadpan, and he doesn't catch my sarcasm until I keep going. "I haven't written anything in six years, but I woke up this morning and wrote a whole concerto I want to practice this afternoon." I roll my eyes at his stupid hope. I haven’t written anything remotely passable in years. "I'm meeting with a friend I like to play with. That's it."

I throw one last look at where Nyx was, wondering how good of a musician she is, but she's gone. The girls and Chris are heading back our way.

"So?" I ask. "Best friends already?"

"I invited her to our start-of-year party," Ella exclaims.

"Ooh." I fake excitement. "Perfect setting to study someone."

"Achilles," Peach snaps. "Don't be a psycho."

"What?" I shrug. "I'm passionate about the human brain. All I'm wondering right now is how much one would be willing to endure for their dream.Wonderingdoesn't hurt anyone."