Page 61 of Liar

Aurora lifts one shoulder in a shrug and goes back to checking her nails.

I laugh.

Her eyes shoot up, glaring. “What do you think is so funny?”

“Who the fuck would complete a challenge like that? You?” I laugh harder, seriously amused at the image of Aurora brandishing a knife on a freshman.

“I almost succeeded with Ember,” she seethes.

The back of her head slams against a metal locker with my hand locked around her throat. Aurora doesn’t have time to so much as gasp. All she can do is claw at my hand with her fake pointy nails, breaking off as soon as they try to dig into my skin. Like declawing a cat, I muse, my arm steady.

I don’t say anything as she chokes and struggles. Just stare at her with a flat expression, communicating without a doubt that I wouldn’t “almost” succeed at anything. I’d win, even at murder.

“S-s-sorry,” she gasps.

I drop my hand. Her feet hit the ground, and she slumps against the lockers, massaging her throat.

There’s nothing sexy about clamping around Aurora’s neck. She doesn’t have Ember’s flawlessness, nor do I picture her pussy getting wet for me as I squeeze her soft points. This is merely business, and so far, I’ve wasted my time.

“See you around, Aurora,” I say, then spin on my heel. I don’t need to warn her never to mention her assault on Ember again. I already have. Next time, I won’t be so gentle.

Aurora raggedly calls out, “Don’t—don’t you want to know what Ember was doing with Savannah this morning before school?”

I stop. Turn. Wait.

Realizing she’s not going to get any more from me, Aurora reluctantly says, “I spoke to Savvy’s driver.”

She means paid him off. The help of other aristocratic families is relatively easy to convince to talk with the right presidents in your hand.

I raise a brow. And?

“He said he drove them to the old cemetery. Why would they go there, do you think? There aren’t any Society treasures hidden under broken graves, right?”

If there were, I’m not about to tell her.

I turn on my heel in silence, my mind working with this new information while Aurora blubbers behind me. She was never princess material, and she has to know after what she did to Ember, she’ll never come close to royalty again.

Social Studies has started by the time I duck in. The professor notices me as I wander to my desk, choosing to refrain from saying anything when I take my seat, knowing there’s little point in attempting to punish a Briar.

I stare at the back of Sav’s head for the remainder of the period, my hand taking notes on autopilot. All I can do is stare at my fingers, remembering what they were doing a few hours ago and who they were doing it to.

I’ve taken Ember in all the ways that matter, yet I’m still unsatisfied.

Aurora’s given me enough that I should be calm enough to endure the rest of the school day. Ember was with Sav this morning, me after that, maybe did a little schoolwork, then fucked off with Aiko for the rest of the day. I have a relative idea of where she is and who she’s with—but it’s not enough.

There’s a small prickle at the back of my neck. It’s hot and pokes like a needle, relentless and itchy. I scratch at it, no amount of digging in relieving this feeling. It lingers and grows, traveling into my gut and pushing against my ribs.

It only occurs when I think of Ember, fading when I focus on other things. The problem is, she’s my focus. It’s like I … I wonder if it’s…

Fuck, no.

Concern? Worry?

Those emotions were beaten out of me years ago. It’s such a foreign feeling that I almost don’t have a name for it anymore. It’s just a nagging tug that comes every time I think of her name…

The bell shrieks at the end of the period. I scowl at the speaker above the door.

“That’s it, folks! Have a great weekend,” the professor says. “I expect those ten thousand words on the archeological significance of the original Raven’s Bluff mansions first thing Monday morning.”