Page 124 of Pink Ink

“Careful, Mr. Shaw,” Reyna whispers behind me, loud enough for only me to hear. “I do not tolerate abuse from my teachers.”

I can hear the chess piece click against the board as she finishes her sentence.Checkmate.

She leans closer, fire blazing behind her eyes as a pang of regret hits me in the chest. Her next words come out low and like barbed wire. “Fuck off, you piece of shit. It’s over.”

Forgetting about Batman, I turn to face her, letting her scent flood over me as I do something I may regret. It’s surreal to have her close enough to touch again. Satisfaction unfurls from her shiver when I brush my lips against the shell of her ear.

“You and I, love? We’ll never be over.” I pull away, resisting the urge to run my fingers over her parted lips. “I look forward to receiving your email tomorrow.”

Until then, I’ll be seeing a lot of you. Someone has to make sure you get home safe.

REYNA

Maddox might be a serial killer, but I’m two seconds away from killing the motherfucker. As they say, the lion, the witch, and the absoluteaudacityof this fucking bitch.

We’ll never be over.

Kiss. My. Ass.

Hebroke up withme. Then all of a sudden, he shows up at my dinner with Lawrence wanting to talk and have some alone time with me—and now this?

Please. He’s about two weeks too late.

I slam my books on the desk as soon as the last student leaves the room. “What the fuck is your problem?” I growl, glaring down Maddox Fucking Shaw who’s standing all prim and proper on the other side of the desk.

Fuck him and his stupid tie. And fuck his knitted sweater, his perfectly polished boots, and the annoyingly cute scarf he walked into class wearing too.

Once again, he showed up to a workshop a tutor is meant to run. I thought I’d be free of him so I’d have more than a couple of days to process what happened and come up with a reason why he showed up at dinner. Him being jealous is not a valid option.

His eyes brighten when they land on me. Maddox can’t seriously be happy to see me. “Whatever do you mean?”

Oh. He really wants to play this card?

“Don’t play dumb with me,” I hiss, pointing a finger at his stupid face. “Why the hell did you have to ruin my”—gag—“date?”

I wasn’t sure if I agreed to go to dinner with Lawrence out of pity, as a distraction to forget about Maddox, or to see if I could fish information about the society. But when he made clear that any information linked to the society wouldn’t be forthcoming—and since it’s not like I’m going to keep poking around Maddox’s crime scenes—I decided I was done entertaining him for good and cut our evening short. A fact he didn’t take particularly well.

Maddox raises a flawless brow in amusement and scoffs. “Bad breath and dry cake ruined it long before I came along.”

“I don’t understand you,” I say, exasperated. “You told me how you really feel, and I listened. I stayed the hell away, and you’ve been so goddamn persistent with ensuring thatyou’rethe one who can’t leave it to rest.”

Ever since we broke up, I haven’t stopped feeling like I’m being watched, and I’m so sick and tired of it. Worse, I can’t stop thinking that it’shimwho’s tailing me. Like, how did he just so happen to “be in the area” of my date? He lives on the opposite side of the city.

Doesn’t he realize that I’m hurting? I can’t get over something we apparently never had if he keeps showing up to remind me of all my misplaced feelings.

I’m grateful for the desk between us. I feel like killing him, and kissing him, and ruining his irritatingly perfect face, then climbing all over him so he can take me against the wall.

I hate him. I hate him. I hate him.

“What do you want, Maddox?” I whisper-yell, throwing my arms out because energy is vibrating through my veins, and I can’t take it anymore: the lies, the secrets, the whiplash. “If you’re wanting to have someone on call to fuck you, I suggest trying at a local bar. Or maybe your fiancée.” I feel sick saying the words. The thought of Maddox being with anyone but me makes me seethe.

We could have beengreattogether. Our lives could’ve been filled with messed-up acts of romance and bloodstained art. I was ready for the risk. I would have been okay with the knowledge that we’ll forever be outcasts,if it meant we would’ve had each other. All he had to do was show me that he wanted to commit. But the joke’s on me, and he knows it.

Maddox works his jaw, staring at me like he has a thousand things he wants to say. Yet “He’s not right for you” is all he responds with.

Why is he making everything so confusing?What does he want?

I laugh bitterly. “You don’t get to say shit about what is or isn’t good orrightfor me. You lost your chance of holding any valid opinion on my personal life. You’re mytemporaryprofessor. Nothing more.”