The bell rings then and the teacher walks to the front of the classroom to start class.
Jax lowers his voice and whispers one final thing to Hunter. “Do I need to remind you of what happened with Clara? Or Jessa? Or Katy?” He gives Hunter a pressing look. “You get me? Or do you want me to keep jotting off names?”
Hunter frowns. “No, you can stop. I get it, and I’ll try to back off.” He flicks one quick glance in my direction, offering me what appears to be an apologetic look.
What the hell he’s sorry for is beyond me. But what I’d really like to know is what happened to those girls Jax spoke of. And who the heck Jax, Zay, and Hunter are and why everyone appears to be afraid of them.
But, as a minute ticks by with me overanalyzing all sorts of ideas about it, I realize I’m focusing way too much time on these guys. And that’s not my MO. So, I focus on class, refusing to even glance in Hunter or Jax’s direction.
But, for some strange reason, I swear they’re watching me. If they are, I have a feeling that isn’t necessarily a good thing.
Five
Zay
I’m beyond riled up, which is never a good thing. But that goddamn girl has me all wound up in knots. Never have I had someone defy me like she did. Usually people fear me, and it’s the way I like it. It makes people keep their distance, and that’s what I need—what I want. The only exception to this is Hunter and Jax, my only friends.
The wall I put up is there for a good reason. It protects me from ever letting anyone into my life that might hurt me again. It also gives me the control that I need. After spending years of being controlled, I can’t ever go back to that again.
But it feels like this girl with hair like raven feathers is trying to take my control away from me.
“Fuck,” I growl out, gripping the steering wheel, rage pulsating underneath my skin.
After I stormed out of class, I headed out to Jax’s SUV to attempt to get my shit together. But the longer I sit here, the more I think about the way that girl looked at me with such defiance. I can’t get the look in her eyes out of my head. It’s running on repeat in my mind and fueling my anger.
Those eyes…
That fucking defiance…
I can’t get them out of my head, just like I can’t get rid of this strange feeling that I know her from somewhere. But I can’t figure out from where.
I’ve been suffering from random memory loss ever since I was a kid. While I’ve never been officially diagnosed with anything, my therapist believes that my memory loss happens whenever I experience something traumatic, which means I could know Raven if she was around me when something traumatic happened to me. But she didn’t seem like she knew me. Maybe because she can’t remember me?
Or maybe I’m just going crazy like everyone said I would. My dad has always said this to me because crazy runs in my family on my mother’s side. It’s part of the reason my dad hates me so much—because he thinks I’ll go crazy like my mom did. And he’s spent most of my life making sure I understand that he despises me. But he’s just as big of a monster as I can be.
Like I’m about to be. Because in order for me to calm down, I’m going to either have to hurt myself or someone else. And while part of me craves the bite of a cold, metal, razor blade peeling away some of my flesh, the other part of me wants to hurt the girl that’s made me lose my control over things—control over myself.
“Yeah, that girl needs to learn her place here,” I mutter to myself then climb out of the car, already feeling the slightest bit better knowing I’m about to regain that control I crave.
Six
Raven
Zay never returns to class. I hate that I’m aware of this. Just like I hate that I’m aware of how Hunter ignores me, even when we walk out of the classroom at almost the same time.
Apparently, the warning Jax gave him Hunter was enough to make him back off his determination to become my new BFF because he doesn’t say a word to me. It’s probably for the better since, pretty soon, he’ll meet the spawn of Satan since it’s lunch break. And then she’ll inform him of the deaths I have staining my hands.
“You’re new, right?” A girl with long, brown hair and hazel eyes approaches me as I’m heading toward my locker. She’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt, along with a plaid shirt and Converse sneaker. Her casual style makes her look like someone Dixie May wouldn’t associate with, but I’m not going to completely discount the idea.
I nod, putting up my guard. “Yeah, I am.”
She walks beside me, glancing behind us and down the hallway. Then she looks back at me and leans in. “Well, here’s a little warning. That guy’s seat you were sitting in today in class, his name is Zay and, trust me, you don’t want to mess with him or his friends, Hunter and Jax, those other two guys that sat by you. They’re kind of dangerous.”
“Okay …?” I’m totally confused. “Thanks for the warning and everything, but why is it such a big deal that I sat at this Zay dude’s desk? I mean, the seats aren’t assigned.”
She wavers. “It’s kind of hard to explain to an outsider, but I’ll try to give you the quick version of the story. That way, you’ll understand and hopefully make the smart choice of staying away from The Raven Three.”
“The Raven Three?”
“Yeah, that’s what we call them. Or, well, it’s the name they gave themselves. No one’s really sure why.”
The Raven Three, huh. No wonder Hunter said it was ironic that my name was Raven. That also might explain why he knew so much about the symbolism of the bird.
I study her with suspicion. “Why are you telling me this? I mean, why are you helping me?”
“Because I was new once and had to learn the hard way.” She smiles. “I’m Katy, by the way.”
Katy. I heard Jax mention her name on that list he prattled off to Hunter. But, what happened to the girls on the list?
“I’m Raven,” I tell her with a small smile.
It’s weird smiling at school. It’s been a long time.
A long damn time.
“Raven? Huh, I really like that name.” She adjusts the handle of her backpack higher onto her shoulder. “It’s way more original than Katy.”
“I like Katy better,” I tell her as I swing around a couple making out in the middle of the hallway.
“You must be crazy then,” she jokes with a grin.
Man, if she only knew how close to the truth she was. How I briefly spent time in a psychiatric hospital right after my parents died.
“Maybe a little bit,” I agree, my chest feeling slightly pressurized.
Slut.
Freak.
Murderer.
My scars throb.
She laughs like I’m making a joke, but I’m not. “You’re funny, Raven. You should come sit with me and my friends at lunch.” Her laughter fades and seriousness takes over. “It’ll be good for you to have a group at this school, too. Someone to protect you.”
Confusion swirls inside me. “Protect me from what?”