Page 6 of Liar

“Now, you’re all aware of our latest student and her long-awaited return,” Ainsley begins, taking his place in front of the teacher’s desk and leaning against it. “I would like to remind you she is not an exotic creature at the zoo. Savannah Merricourt has endured an unimaginable year, and I require you all to respect that. There will be no harassment in my classroom or inappropriate questions directed to her. Miss Merricourt, would you like to add anything?”

Every pair of eyes swings to Savannah as Professor Ainsley does the very thing he told us not to.

Her back is to me, that long cascade of warm blond hair covering her uniform from my vantage point. Despite the attention, those strands don’t tremble. Her body doesn’t shake. Savannah retains the same amount of mystery she had when she was plucked off the road by a passing pickup truck driver who thought she was a wounded deer.

She calmly lifts her arms and folds her hands on her desk. “No, sir. Thank you.”

The barest hint of a sensation tingles across my outer thigh. I glance down in time to see Thorne’s forefinger play with the hem of my skirt. Without thinking, I jolt, my knee banging on the underside of the desk and causing its legs to scrape across the parquet floor.

Professor Ainsley trains his eyes on me. “Miss Beckett? Do you have something to add?”

Thorne’s hand darts back to his lap, his chin lowering to disguise his involvement.

I glance back and forth between him and the professor. Thorne, of course, gives me nothing.

“No.” I clear my throat, then very obviously pull at the hem of my skirt, covering my thigh as much as I can. “Sir.”

“I’m glad to hear it since your place at this school is now out of benevolence than right,” Professor Ainsley says.

I jerk my head up, studying him more keenly. It’s as if Damion Briar channeled himself through the professor and spoke what was so utterly apparent during my last Virtue challenge.

Zeke chuckles under his breath.

“That brings me to my next point.” Ainsley claps his hands, redirecting the class’s attention. “Outbursts in my classroom will not be tolerated. Miss Beckett, since you disrupted the class before I finished my rules, consider this a warning. Am I making myself clear?”

A chorus of yes, sir rings out. Ainsley responds with a smile, delighted with his power over a small portion of the world’s one percent.

Fingers tickle my bare thigh again. I swipe at them, catching Thorne’s middle finger in my palm.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I whisper fiercely, keeping my head down.

I bend his finger back. Thorne doesn’t do well with questions, but he does respond to pain. Whether he enjoys it or takes it as a warning is anyone’s guess. All I need is his attention.

He flexes his fingers around the one I hold hostage as if stretching into the sensation. A low thrum comes from his throat, my eyes darting toward it before I can tell myself to focus. Stop being distracted by the rush of blood in my ears and the sheer heat he’s exuding, deliberately lighting me on fire with his touch.

Proving he still owns me. That I can still get wet for him.

My eyes shoot down, ashamed, but they scrape across his middle before returning to the task at hand—breaking his fucking finger. His pants are tented, clearly turned on by my “threat.”

I release my hold with a hiss.

“Consider that a warning,” he utters through the side of his mouth. “Don’t fuck up my plans. Don’t fuck with me. Stay away from Sav, and don’t enter the catacombs again.”

“Or what?” My voice is louder and more enraged than his cool tone of death. Ainsley glances over with a frown. I smile out an apology.

His hand clamps around my thigh, pushing into my skin and wrenching through the muscle. Thorne talks through my strangled groan as though he’s asking what the weather outside’s like. “Or else I’ll fuck with you. You want to cause me pain? Do it harder next time.”

I ask with my next small inhale, “You know what I’m going to do next?”

“Should I care?”

My hand spears into the air, catching Ainsley’s attention. “Yes, Miss Beckett?”

“May I use the restroom?”

He swoops a tired hand to the door. “Go right ahead.”

I leap from my seat, causing Thorne’s hand to loosen. When he retreats, he takes the fire with him. I can breathe.