Bridges Burned (Going Down in Flames #2)(40)

When she joined her friends at their normal table, Clint glanced up. “Were you able to talk to Zavien before the attack?”

Ivy stole a piece of bacon off her boyfriend’s plate. “I thought we agreed to let her bring him up.”

He rolled his eyes. “We waited a respectable amount of time. She’s probably dying to tell us, but didn’t know if it would be appropriate.”

“We can add mind reader to your list of character traits.” Bryn poured syrup on her pancakes. “When the auditorium was attacked, he chose to protect me over Nola.”

“And?” Ivy prompted.

She slashed at her pancakes. “And nothing. He hasn’t apologized and I don’t think he intends to. As Valmont put it, Zavien would prefer I didn’t die, but he doesn’t want to be seen with me in public.”

“Ouch,” Clint muttered around a mouth full of toast.

“Exactly.” Bryn ripped open three packets of sugar and poured them into her coffee. “Any suggestions on what I should do now?”

“What do you want from Zavien?” Clint asked. “As a guy, I might be able to tell you if your fantasy has a chance at becoming reality.”

Sipping her coffee, she thought about the question. “I want him to apologize for being a colossal ass, and I want him to choose me over Nola.”

“Legally, I’m not sure that’s an option.” Clint said. “His family has entered into a binding contract with Nola’s family.”

Bryn smacked her fork down on the table. “Then why did the jerk start something with me in the first place?”

“I think he might truly care for you.” Ivy grimaced. “Though that probably makes it worse, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” If she could flat-out hate him, it’d be easier to let go. “Part of me thinks it isn’t his fault, it’s the damned Directorate’s fault for insisting on arranged marriages. But if he loved me, he’d fight for me. Hell, even Jaxon is fighting for Rhianna.”

“What do you mean?” Ivy asked.

Bryn leaned forward. “Yesterday, Jaxon took me to see Rhianna.” She told them Rhianna’s condition and what Jaxon had promised. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“There aren’t words for how much that sucks.” Clint’s eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute. You knew about her condition right after the attack. That’s why you asked about wheelchair accessibility.”

Time to confess. Sort of. “I knew she was hurt, but I thought the medics could heal her.”

“Maybe they still can.” Ivy sounded hopeful. “At least Jaxon is stepping up and promising to take care of her. Who knows who she’d end up with otherwise.”

“She’d be in the same sucky position I’m in.” What a depressing thought.

“Promise not to shoot a fireball at my head for what I’m about to say,” Clint said.

Bryn nodded and clenched the edge of the table.

“You could continue your relationship with Zavien in the same manner Jaxon offered to continue his relationship with Rhianna.”

Anger burst through Bryn’s body like a volcano. Sparks shot from her nostrils.

“Idiot.” Ivy punched her boyfriend on the shoulder. “You knew how she’d react to that idea.”

Clint nodded. “That’s why I included the caveat about not roasting me like a marshmallow.” He held his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Realistically, that is the only offer Zavien can make if he comes back. I didn’t think you’d be cool with it, but I wanted you to think about it.”

Bryn’s shoulders slumped. The fight drained out of her body. “I can’t believe that’s the best I can hope for. My life sucks.”

…

By the end of the week, life on campus returned to semi-normal with an undercurrent of anxiety. The Red Militia wandering the campus both reassured and worried Bryn. Did their presence mean the Directorate expected another attack?

No one left any weird drawings for her to find, which was a relief. She considered looking up the symbol online, but was afraid that might set off some internal computer alarm.

Friday night, Bryn holed up in the library hoping to find detailed information about why Alec had hated the Directorate so much. Right before he’d tried to kill her, he’d said the Directorate had stolen his life.

What did that mean? Zavien had told her that Alec’s marriage contract had been denied and that was enough reason to hate Ferrin and the Directorate, but was it enough to want to kill Ferrin’s family and Bryn?

Miss Enid had tipped her off about where the Directorate housed the records of marriage petitions both approved and denied, which was why she was on the fourth floor of the library in a secluded corner surrounded by musty-smelling books. Some of the books were so old their leather bindings had cracked. Newer books, exact replicas of the ancient ones they were shelved with, held the most recent information. Names of the proposed husband and wife were listed together, along with a notation of whether they were approved or denied. Of course, the information stopped there. A reason for the denials wasn’t listed.

She shoved a four-inch-thick leather-bound beast back onto the shelf. Stupid thing must weigh twenty pounds. Had the damn Directorate never heard of computers? They probably recorded information this way to discourage people from looking things up. Too bad for them she had time to kill.