“Next time, make sure you don’t get punched in the face,” Benjamin says.

“Next time, shut the fuck up.”

He grins at me, and I return it with a smirk.

The instructor walks up to Eric’s body and kicks him in the leg. “Wake up, asshole.”

Eric groans as consciousness returns. He squints before rolling onto his hands and knees. Once on his feet, he scans the room until he locates me. I meet his stare head-on with cool indifference.

His nostrils flare, eyes blazing with something beyond rage. He narrows his gaze until it’s little more than slits. The look promises retribution.

I break eye contact by turning my head, a clear dismissal. Of his threats. And of him.

Eric Gage can go fuck himself. I have more important things to think about.

Viridian eyes that invade my dreams and tease me relentlessly come to mind. My obsession over Delilah didn’t end the night she stabbed me. In fact, it’s only gotten worse. Professor Ames is right: emotion is a poison of the heart.

When it comes to Delilah, I’m terminal.

For the last two years, I’ve been watching over my girl. And keeping anyone else from having her. It hasn’t been easy. Sneaking away to be near her without my father’s suspicions following me is hard enough, but keeping other men from wanting her? Nearly impossible.

If Delilah thinks she’s going to have a boyfriend, much less give him her virginity, she’s got another fucking thing coming.

Her kiss is mine to taste.

Her body is mine to touch.

Her innocence is mine to own.

The instructor draws my attention by clapping sharply. “Donovan gave a textbook demonstration of MMA techniques combined with strength training. The rest of you losers should take notes.” He shifts his focus to Eric. “Gage, go and get cleaned up. You’re bleeding all over my floor.”

“Sure thing,” Eric says, spitting on the mats.

The other recruits part to let him pass. Eric strides through the group, shouldering a few of them before leaving the room. Good fucking riddance.

The instructor points to Benjamin and John Felton, heir to the finance and banking empire. The newcomer—who’s not so new anymore—takes his spot on the mats with his knees bent and arms resting lightly by his sides.

At least this time I don’t have to worry about him getting killed.

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Chapter 8DELILAH

Delilah: Can we FaceTime? The girls really want to see you since it’s been a long time (hint hint)

Ben: I’m really busy studying.

Delilah: Come on! You never visit anymore, and you hardly call. I can handle you ignoring me, but the girls don’t understand. They still need their older brother. I know I do. Gloria is nice and all, but it’s not the same

Ben: Give me a second

Isink onto my bed and stare at the cell phone with my heart thrashing in my chest. Maybe I don’t fully understand what it takes to be an honor student at South Harbor University, but Ben makes it seem like a black hole that sucks you in and kills your social life. If I have to make excuses to the girls on his behalf one more time, I think I’m going to go crazy.

Ben better call. That’s all I’m saying.

My cell phone rings, and I immediately answer, setting it on a stand. Surrounded by shelves of books in a library, my foster brother comes into view.

Same blonde hair and blue eyes, but his smile isn’t as light and carefree. There’s also a tightness around his jaw that wasn’t there before.

Along with a fist-sized bruise.

“Who’s the fucking cockwaffle that hit you?!” My voice isn’t exactly a screech, but it’s close. I take a deep breath and try to speak more calmly. “I hope you kicked his ass.”

Ben shakes his head with a small smile. “Hello to you too, Delilah. Some preppy asshole thinking we had a problem. And now we don’t. How are you?”

“Currently, I’m pissed that you’re hurt. I can’t believe someone would do that. I thought those people had class.”

“Money doesn’t change what’s inside a person. If anything, it exposes who they are. Why don’t you tell me how you’re doing?”

I shrug. “Same old, same old.”

“In my experience, no news is good news.”

“True. Things are calm here, which is wonderful.” I pause, biting my lip while trying to gather my words. “The girls are going to be really sad if you don’t come for the holidays again.”

“I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any promises. My schedule is… uncertain right now.”

I scrunch my forehead in confusion. “That doesn’t make any sense. You know what classes you have and when.”

“That’s not what I mean. I don’t know what’ll be expected of me and how much time it’ll take.”

“Okay,” I say, drawing out the word. “If you say so.”

“Just drop it, all right?”

I fold my arms over my chest, trying to ignore the hurt seeping into my chest. “Fine.”

Ben sighs and rakes his fingers through his hair. The lights above him catch and reflect something shiny on the screen. I squint and get closer to my phone.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Huh?” He drops his arm, holding his hand in front of his face. “Oh, this is nothing.”

“Nothing? That looks like a gold ring. Unless you're slowly turning into a rapper, I need to know where that bling came from.”

Ben’s lips twitch. “A rapper?”

“We’re from the rough neighborhood. For all I know, you could be the next Eminem. Show it to me.”

He pauses. It’s slight, but in our relationship, his hesitation is like a bullhorn. I blink at the screen in disbelief.

“It’s not a big deal.” He lifts his hand, positioning the ring in the center of the screen. “See?”

I run my gaze over the golden object, my eyes widening. On the ring’s oval face is a raised anchor with an “M” engraved above it. The arms of the anchor extend outward, completely surrounded by ornate filigree to add to the overall antique look. Not to mention the diamonds lining the entire thing.

“Are those real?” I ask.

Ben drops his hand and nods.

“And what is the “M” for? Your last name is Johnson.” I roll my eyes. “Oh, duh. It’s for a fraternity, isn’t it?”

His gaze darts to the side before meeting mine. “Yeah.”

“Have you been hiding this for years?” My voice rises, along with my sense of betrayal. “Why didn’t you want to tell me? I know we used to make fun of preppy people like that, but let’s face it. We wished we were them. You’re family, and I’d never judge you.”

“I know. It’s just that this group is intense. And like you said, we used to make fun of rich, privileged kids who wiped their asses with hundred-dollar bills. But when you hang out with them… I don’t know. It’s different.”

I wave a hand in dismissal. “As long as you don’t become a prick, I don’t care what fraternity you’re in. Hell, I might join a sorority when I go to college.”

“Are you still thinking of coming here?”

“Of course.” I narrow my gaze in suspicion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

He shakes his head. “I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. That’s all.”

“I’m not going to be valedictorian, but I will graduate with honors, Ben. I’m going to get into South Harbor. End of story.”

“Okay, okay. Forget I said anything. Where are the girls? I need to go soon, and I don’t want to miss seeing them.”

I sigh. “Right. Before I go downstairs and get them, I want you to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Don’t let that fancy-smancy college change you too much, okay? I want my Ben to still be there when you graduate.”

He stares off into the distance, his gaze becoming unfocused. “Change isn’t something we can stop, Lilah. We age, grow, learn, achieve. These experiences mold us, whether we want them to or not.” He clears his throat and looks at me with a sad smile. “I’ll always care about you. That will never change.”