Chapter 40: Sadie: Special

SADIE

Before I can ask where, Trey starts dragging me away. The heartless bastard forgot I’m injured, and since pulling free isn’t happening, I have no choice but to stumble after him and try not to make my foot worse.

We pass Lola on the way. Her eyes widen when she sees us, and I barely manage a helpless glance before we’re moving farther from the house, toward the stretch of yard lit mostly by moonlight.

"Where do you think you’re taking me?" I protest, but he keeps going until he stops beneath one of the trees.

I look up into the branches and regret it. Snakes could be curled up there. Or, Goddess forbid, another rogue waiting for me to walk underneath like the last few days taught me nothing.

"Why did you bring me all the way out here?" I demand.

His answer is to start unbuttoning his shirt.

At first, I’m confused. Another button comes undone and confusion flips into shock.

No way.

Except he keeps going, and no way turns into is it possible, then does he actually want me, and ends somewhere around does he seriously want me right now?

"What—why are you taking off your shirt?" I step back in a panic, both hands coming up to cover my face before my thoughts can get any worse.

"Thought you wanted a closer look," his deep voice carries through the dark.

I peek through my fingers.

His shirt is open now, enough of his chest bare that my thoughts threaten to go stupid all over again, but he stays where he is. No move toward me, no hint that he plans to do anything else.

Oh.

So that entire filthy detour was mine.

My hands lower. "I—I didn’t say that."

His obvious entertainment makes me want to crawl into the nearest hole.

"I was checking to see if you were okay," I snap, because being annoyed at him is easier than being annoyed at myself.

That seems to please him more, and he steps closer.

Standing my ground around Trey never lasts long. Once he gets close enough, my body betrays me, backing up until the tree catches me at the shoulders and my hand presses against his stomach to stop him from closing the remaining space.

"I am hurt." He stares down at me. "Because of you."

I hesitate. "You just said that wasn’t your blood."

"Did I?"

I can’t tell if he’s trying to get under my skin or if there’s a point I’m missing.

He should be pissed. He got into it with Ezra because of me, his shirt is covered in blood, his necklace is broken, and instead of looking angry, he seems more cheerful than I’ve seen him in days.

Worse, he’s teasing me.

I have no idea what his endgame is, and not being able to read him is starting to drive me insane.

"Where are you injured?" I ask, still holding him back.

"Everywhere."

I almost ask if he’s serious, but the tilt of his head answers for him. Does he expect me to check everywhere?

"If you’re banged up, I can take you to Julian tomorrow," I say. "Not that you’ll need it. Your Alpha wolf will have you healed by then."

His expression hardens almost imperceptibly. He leans closer, forcing me farther against the tree.

"You touch Julian like this too?"

A breath bursts out of me. "Have you ever seen anyone about your personality changes?"

His mouth presses into a line.

"This afternoon you were accusing me of not being over Ezra, and now it’s Julian. Do you think I have a line of men waiting somewhere? Fine. You want me to check? I’ll check." My hands move over his chest and down his stomach. "Where does it hurt?"

He catches both my wrists before I can go any farther, turning the attention back on me. "Did Paige get you anywhere?"

I pull free. "What do you care? You’ll find a way to use anything I tell you against me later." The fight from earlier flares back up. "Why did you even help me back there? You could’ve stayed quiet and let Paige do her worst."

"And you would’ve handled it?"

"Of course I would have." I square my shoulders. "I stood my ground, didn’t I? Ezra made a fool of himself, and I didn’t need you to do that for me. In case you missed it, I didn’t shrink this time. Or whatever it was you said."

For once, Trey doesn’t have a cutting remark ready. The silence drags long enough that I start wondering if he plans to ignore me.

"I was wrong."

The words sit between us, and I gawk at him.

"Wrong about what?" I ask, because two words don’t undo the afternoon. "That I’m weak? That I’ve been comfortable being miserable my whole life? Pick one, Trey. You said a lot."

"About all of it," he replies. "I shouldn’t have said any of it."

That is not what I expected, and the stupid little burst of pride it gives me only makes things more complicated. Part of me wants to hold onto what he said on principle. One apology doesn’t erase it. But he did come to my rescue in there, which makes staying cold with him harder than I’d like.

I fold my arms across my chest as much as the space between us allows. "You know, being an Alpha heir doesn’t mean you get to talk to people however you want. Especially me. You can be angry without saying things you know are cruel."

"Understood."

"And don’t look pleased. You’re not forgiven."

He nods. "I get that."

I make him wait a beat before muttering, "Was any of that so hard? You should praise me more often."

"What did you say?"

Straightening a little, I repeat, "I said you should praise me more often." My chin lifts. "I’m special to you, remember?"

He slips both hands into his pockets. "Special?"

"I’m your tutor and roommate." I gesture between us. "That already makes me different from every other girl you know, so you can’t lump me in with everyone else."

"I don’t treat you like other girls," he declares.

That shuts me up. His green eyes hold mine, vivid even in the dark, and I start to understand how all those nerds he collects end up falling for him. He says things with so much certainty that forgetting I’m supposed to answer becomes embarrassingly easy.

"Why?" is all I manage. "Why am I different?"

"Because you don’t circle me like everyone else does." His tone stays casual. "You keep to yourself. You’re reserved. Half the time, you act like being around me is an inconvenience."

My fingers pinch at the edge of my skirt while I force a smile. "Wow. Charming."

I don’t know why that answer kills my mood so quickly. It almost sounds like he treats me differently because I’m safe to him. Because I’m not one of the girls he has to worry about wanting him, which probably means he doesn’t find me attractive enough to be a problem in the first place.

Which is good. It should be good.

Why would I want him to see me that way anyway?

My self-worth is not measured by whether Trey Mercer finds me attractive. I know that. So the tiny sting of disappointment is both unnecessary and deeply embarrassing.

I change the subject before my brain makes it worse. "Why did you fight Ezra? You’re brothers, but you act like you hate each other. What happened between you two?"

"Don’t you know?"

"No." I shift my weight. "And aren’t you an athlete? Don’t you guys have some kind of code of conduct? You can throw punches at your brother at a frat party and nothing happens?"

"Not if Coach doesn’t hear about it." He shrugs. "Ezra’s gonna retaliate, though. You made him look stupid in front of half the campus, broke his girl’s arm, and put his insecurity on blast. He won’t let that go quietly."

He’s dodging the question, but my attention drifts back to the house anyway.

Ezra isn’t a true Alpha, and Paige makes a lot more sense now.

A Lycan. Powerful family. The kind of connection that could give him access to everything he wanted but couldn’t claim on his own.

"I don’t know how I did that. I broke her arm." Saying it aloud turns my stomach. "People have to be wondering what the hell happened."

"It’s not a big deal. Paige underestimated you. Your little wolf is starting to manifest, so you had the advantage."

"Little wolf," I repeat, because that feels generous for whatever nearly rearranged Paige. "I feel sick about it. I’ve never hurt anyone like that before."

His expression settles. "If you want to survive, you’re going to have to do worse."

The certainty in his voice bothers me more than the words. He doesn’t sound like he’s guessing.

What has he done that makes breaking someone’s arm sound like beginner level? I’ve survived without doing anything close to that.

A breath leaves me as I let the argument go. "So what now?"

Trey steps back and buttons his shirt. "Since you’re not going to check me, we should head back. Party’s over. Mood’s dead, people are leaving."

"I want to leave too."

"I’ll drive you." He fastens a button and looks toward the house. "Go get Lola."