“Yes, dear, I understand, but I can’t move your dorms, you will need to wait until next year. I’m so sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” I grind out, snatching my class schedule from the reception desk and storming out of the administration office. I don’t have anything against Willow, but I was really hoping I could be in my own room. After leaving Frost and my brothers a couple weeks ago, I did as I promised, and came to NYU. The school had no idea I almost didn’t attend due to my family’s bullshit, so it was a good thing everything slipped into place at the very last minute.

Walking through the dorms, I go to my first class of the day. Med school has always been a no-brainer for me. It’s something I’ve always thought I’d do if I wasn’t out killing people for my family. Okay, that’s not completely true, but it is something I feel I can excel in, and, it will help our family’s business just that much more, too.

During lunch, I’m biting into my apple and reading up on the anatomy of the human brain, which is how I’ve been spending my lunch hours lately. Great. I was lucky I got into a track which offers me to graduate in three years with my Bachelor of Medicine instead of doing the whole seven yards, but that’s mainly because I have a 4.0 GPA. I’m more modest about my intelligence than my egotistical brothers, but I’m well aware what resides deep in my cranium and what I’m capable of.

“Everything fucking hurts.” Willow takes a seat opposite me and massages her temple. Willow is my age, and to be honest, I don’t know much about her. She mainly keeps very quiet and to herself, but every now and then, she opens up a little. She’s here studying to be a psychiatrist.

I giggle. “What’d you do last night?” Slamming my book closed, I put it on the table and give her my undivided attention.

“This… paper. It’s insane.” Her fingers separate, and I see her eyes peering at me from between the cracks. “I’m not complaining,” she feigns innocence, both of her arms dropping to either side of her.

“I wouldn’t judge if you were,” I answer, taking another bite. I haven’t prodded Willow about her life because I respect privacy. I figured she might tell me one day. Or not. Either way, I’m totally cool. I have way too much going on in my head anyway, I don’t know if I could offer a rental spot right now for someone else’s issues.

“That’s just it, though,” she whispers through her red cherry lips. “I need to because…” she pauses, chewing on her lip. She must decide against confiding in me anymore because her eyes quickly divert down at her hands which are on her lap. “Never mind.” She clears her throat, and my eyes narrow. I’ve been around enough people who hide shit to know that this girl has big skeletons she’s hiding. Hope it doesn’t come and bite her on the ass one day, ‘cuz skeleton bites fucking scar. Better to burn your skeletons than keep them in closets. It’s a more efficient way to forget your problems. Turn your skeletons to ash and then blow them away. Problem solved.

“Sup,” Chase takes a seat beside me, pulling me under his arm.

“Hey. Willow here was just saying how much she hates her psychology paper.”

Chase chuckles, tossing a carrot stick into his mouth. “Can’t say I blame you.” I’ve tried getting Willow and Chase together more than once, but Chase isn’t feeling it and Willow either can’t see that I’m trying to hook her up or she’s very good at ignoring it. Either way, I’m not winning.

“Hey, I was thinking of going to check out that new bar tonight, you know, since it’s Friday?” Chase adds, squeezing me with his arm.

I shrug. It could be good having a night out since I haven’t been out once since I got here, and even before then, my nights out were very different from a college night out. “Sure!” I glance at Willow, who hasn’t touched her food. She should, she’s tiny. She must stand at five-foot-four, around one-hundred and thirty pounds, small little curves and long dyed red hair. I mean that hair is fire hydrant red. I’m guessing her natural hair color is brunette, judging by her eyebrows, but the color it is now, it suits her. She’s edgy looking and I like edgy girls.

“Ah—Okay,” Willow nods. “Sure, what could possibly go wrong.” She shouldn’t say that, it’s like bad juju. Once someone says that line, it’s like mother nature peeks around the corner and is like “Yoohoo! Guess what can go wrong….” Evil bitch.

“Wanna come by and get us at eight?” I ask Chase.

His eyes connect with mine and I can see him yearning for me. I just can’t give that back to him right now, not when all I think about is Frost. That wouldn’t be fair to him, or me. I want to though. Chase feels safe. He knows my deepest and darkest secrets and still looks at me like I’m the best thing on earth. I just, can’t right now.

“Yeah,” he smiles a sweet smile and then stands. Leaning down, his lips press to my forehead. “I’ll see you guys later. Bye, Willow!” Then he leaves, and I stay in the same position he left me in for a few seconds.

“He’s got it bad for you,” Willow interrupts my thoughts.

“What? Oh, yeah. Long story, but we used to date when we were kids.”

“Really?” Willow brings her eyes to me. “Wow, I mean, that’s a long time?”

I shrug. “By kids, I mean high school.”

“Oh,” Willow’s laughter dies out. “Well that wasn’t too long ago but it also explains the puppy eyes. I mean don’t get me wrong, he’s hot, but the way he gawks at you is enough to turn off any girl.”

I close my eyes in realization. “Really? Is that why you haven’t?” I bring my attention back to her.

“Duh, of course. Why else? He’s obviously good-looking, kind, and single. Why else would I knock down your hints.”

She has a good point. Chase was mighty fine, and he was a sweet guy. There’s that word again—sweet. Fuck.

Noticing the time, panic sets in. “Shit. I’ve got to go. I’ll see you back in the dorm.”

She waves me off and goes back to eating at a snail pace. She truly needs to hurry her eating along, and being my roommate, she won’t last long. I live for food, good luck to her turning down all my snacks. Provided, I share those snacks. I have been known to snap a few fingers for touching my pie.

The rest of my day goes surprisingly fast, and almost all the way through, I’m constantly thinking about our night out tonight and how much I need it. It’s taken me all day, but the more and more I think about it the more excited I get. There’s still a pang of hurt that lies underneath everything when I think about Frost, but I can’t let his loss consume me anymore. I just have to move on without him, and the first step to that is going out, getting drunk, and having a good time.

The past two weeks have gone pretty fucking slow. Almost routine like, and it’s probably a good thing. Has me getting back into the swing of things in a slower pace—not that I would have minded a faster pace. “Yo!” I whistle out to Racer who is walking into the clubhouse with a local slut under his arm. This fucking kid, he has more game than Hannibal. In Han’s defense, he ain’t into it, but still. This fucking kid flutters his eyelashes and pops those dimples and every bitch within a three-mile radius comes running, begging to jump on his dick. I get it, it’s the charm, little fucker. Just to prove a point, 'cuz I’m an asshole, I pull at the girl who’s under his arm. She looks between Racer and I, then her eyes go up and down my body.

“Are you Frost?”

“Shut up. You don’t speak.”

“Oh, ok.” She shrugs and tucks herself under my arm.

“The fuck?” Racer tosses his arm around. “How you goin’ play me like that? Even though he’s an asshole?” He’s joking, anyone can see it from the twinkle that is in his eye. “I’m hurt, baby, I’m hurt.” He ain’t hurt.

I can’t help it, I chuckle, because the little fuck has grown on me since he patched in.

She shrugs again. “He’s Frost. I mean, I’ve heard all about you…”

“Yeah, whatever.” I push her away and she trips over her feet before moving toward the bar, or to the next sucker she’ll have balls deep down her throat. Racer and I make our way to one of the corners and onto a couch.

“How the fuck?” He watches at me with newfound interest.

I put a smoke in my mouth and slouch back. “I’m gonna pretend not to be offended, but it’s easy.” I blaze up and take a long inhale. “You don’t need to be charming when you have a reputation like mine.”

“I get it,” Racer gestures at me. “The whole, tattoos, dark, devious eyes, angry, bad biker, not to fucked with caveman type thing you have going on.”

“You ‘bout to ask me on a date, pretty boy? 'Cuz I don’t hit it that way.” I smirk.

His smile falls flat and he rolls his eyes. “Dick. I’m just saying, I get it. You know chicks are fucking whack. It’s like they’re born into this world with this hardwired mechanism that replays ‘must go for bad boys. Must save them. Must save them.’ Bitch, some of us just wanna get our dick wet, fuck being saved. Save your damn self, ‘cuz I’m about to ruin your life.”

I nod, my lips kicking up in a half grin. “Brother, you have no idea how much you made sense just now.” My phone vibrates in my pocket and I take it out, seeing it’s X.

“Yo?”

“Yeah, brother, I don’t know. Are you sitting down?”

“What now?” I snap, squeezing a little too tightly on the end of my cigarette.

“If that was my woman, I would need to be sitting down, so I’ll ask you again… are you fucking sittin’ down?”

This motherfucker.

“Yes,” I hiss, trying to calm myself before I snap someone’s fucking neck, and considering Racer is the closest thing alive near me, his odds are not looking very fucking grand right now.

“Maybe I’ll just send you some photos. I’ll be flying back tonight on Iris.”

Iris is Raze and Millie’s private jet. They named it after their daughter who died after an accident a while ago. Was fucked up, and I hated seeing Millie like that, only because she’s cool as shit. Could never resonate with those feelings though, never loved or gave a shit about anyone to care enough whether they died or not. I think that as I’m getting information from a brother who I specifically sent to New York to check on the only fucking girl who probably ever came close to me feeling that way.

Hanging up on X before I lose my shit, I wait for his text.

“This about Ella?” Racer asks, waggling his eyebrows.

“Fuck you.”

“No, thanks, but speaking of,” his eyes go over his shoulder, “I need to be. Excuse me.” He leaves, and I’m left sitting here waiting for these fucking photos. Five minutes pass and I still haven’t heard anything. I’m about to text X and tell him to hurry the fuck up when his name lights up on my phone. I slide it unlocked.

“Brother, what fucking game you playin’—”

“—Oh hey, honey!” Fuck. Ella’s sassy little tone continues, “I just thought I’d let you know, you know, since you, you, well, you are freaking stalking me! Frost, baby, this is stalking. If you wanted me back, all you had to do was ask…”

She’s slurring, fucking smashed out of her head. I shoot up from the couch, rage boiling inside of me. “Ella, what the fuck are you playing at?”

“What?” she slurs again, then giggles. “I don’t play games, Frost. Unlike you.”

“What would you had said if I told you that I wanted you back?” I reply to her earlier question. I don’t want her back, but I’m interested to see what would she had said.

“I’d say fuck you and go get a backrub if you want something back— I gotta go! Willow is waiting for me, and Chase, and some other hot—” she cuts out and then I hear her complaining.

“X! Give me the damn phone! I’m not done with him! He fucking hurt me!” Jesus fuck. Ella McKenna can’t be fucking hurt. She’s just drunk.

“Who the fuck are you?” I hear X snap at someone else, I’m guessing because there’s no way in hell he’d talk to Ella like that. At least not while I’m in earshot.

“Who’s who?” Fuck this. I knew I should have gone with him myself, to hell with Raze and what he needs me for.

My eyes are darting around the clubhouse, trying to make out the sounds on the other end. “Brother, fucking answer me.” I put the phone on speaker just as Racer comes back to the corner, catching my unease.

“You all right, brother?” he asks, taking a seat back on the chair he was in shortly before.

I ignore him because my only focus right now is this bullshit over the phone.

“I’ll ask you again, who the fuck are you?” X repeats, his voice low. It’s muffled as if he has the phone resting on his shoulder.

“I’m Willow! Her friend! And who the fuck are you?”

“Oh.” Racer clicks his fingers and points down at the phone. “Now that’s wifey right there. She got balls to speak to that big fucker like that, I need her number—”

I cut him a glare and he shuts his mouth, sipping his whiskey.

“Brother, I have those shots for you, but I’m pretty sure you get what’s happening right now.”

“Yeah.” I sit back down and lean in my chair. “I get it.”

“Want me to drag her ass back with me? I can just tie her up and gag her.”

My dick goes hard.

“Nah,” I shake my head. “Just let her go.”

“You sure?” X asks, his tone dropping low. “I mean I’m no expert, but she’s…”

“Unhinged?” I laugh, picking up my drink and shooting it back. “Yeah. Let her go. She’s doing her thing.”

I hang up with X and glare toward a smug Racer. “What?”

He shrugs, leaning back in his chair and swinging his arms over the top. “Oh nothing, brother, just an observation.”

“That observation worth you getting your ass kicked?”

“Nope.”