Fighting Fate (Granton University #1)(5)

If he was still here next semester.

With Trace Zukowski’s little sister on campus, he had a feeling the pitchforks and torches wouldn’t be far behind, running him off within the week. Maybe within the day. Or the next hour.

Oh, God.

Clenching his teeth, he closed his eyes briefly, panicked what his future—and the rest of his life—held in store for him now. He shoved his way out of the old limestone building, glowering at the flowering ivy growing up the walls, and nearly plowed into a girl hurrying up the wide marble steps. He darted to the side, barely missing her.

She was turned away from him and not paying attention to where she was going. While she glanced behind her as if making sure no one was following, he sucked in a breath.

“Paige,” he said, though he couldn’t see her face. For some reason, he just knew.

She whirled around, her straight dark hair fluttering out over her shoulders, sending a whiff of her shampoo his way. All spicy and sweet, the mix struck him hard. A wave of awareness cramped his muscles. When she looked up, he couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was.

But she obviously didn’t return the attraction. Her horrified gasp and wide, frightened eyes, not to mention the way she lurched back with a fearful flinch, pretty much told him she’d just spotted the most ghastly beast on earth.

Helpless anger stole over him. She was going to ruin his life. Before he could even brace himself for the fallout, she’d crush everything he’d worked three years to build. And here she was, acting scared of him?

He wanted to grab her and shake her, make her look at the man behind the murderer, and force her to forgive him, tell him it was okay, that she knew he hadn’t meant to kill her brother.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he snapped, irrationally insulted by her unnecessary fear.

But when she met his gaze, forgiveness didn’t line her wary, darting eyes. Tears did. “Except you already have.” A frightened tear quivered at the edge of her long lashes.

She was right. Physical pain couldn’t match the emotional turmoil he’d put her through. His anger dissolved like sugar in water. Ashamed of himself, he stepped back and tried to swallow the knot in his throat, forcing himself to calm down.

“Look. If you were coming here to drop the class, I already did, okay? You don’t have to.”

He risked a quick glance up to catch her reaction. She held her book bag in front of her, using it as a barrier against him, even as she lifted her chin, though that only seemed to expose her neck in a more vulnerable way, revealing the rapid beat of her pulse throbbing against tender flesh.

Three years ago, Logan couldn’t imagine frightening anyone so completely, especially a girl. But those days were long gone. She looked terrified.

“Did you hear me?” he asked, knowing he sounded brusque, maybe even rude. But he couldn’t help it. Seeing her rattled him as much as it obviously did her. He wanted her gone, far and away from Granton.

Though she refused to make eye contact and stared around him as if she still wanted to enter the registrar’s building, she nodded with a quick, jerky bob.

“Good,” he said, his voice going hoarse. When he felt his chin wobble, he drew in a sharp, horrified breath and added, “I guess that’s settled then. We don’t share a class any longer; I doubt we’ll see each other again. Problem solved.”

Her gaze flashed his way, raking him with animosity. And it struck him how her problems were far from solved. Her brother was never coming back, and that was his fault.

He swallowed, his throat so dry he was surprised he didn’t choke. He wanted to apologize, but he didn’t particularly want her to spit in his face again, so he just stared, waiting.

When she only damned him with her beautiful, dark eyes, he gave in first, jerking his gaze away and blinking rapidly.

“Here,” he choked out, grasping at the only thing he could think to provide as a peace offering. He yanked her pen from his bag and thrust it forward. “You dropped this.”

She focused on her pen, her eyes dilating with horror.

When she didn’t reach for it, he let his hand fall back to his side, feeling like an idiot. “Right,” he said, unable to keep the sneer from his voice. “It’s tainted now that I’ve touched it, isn’t it?”

He wanted to pound his fists against the injustice of it all, demand that she and the entire world let him back in among the living. The worst part was, though, even if he was welcomed with open arms, he didn’t think he could enter, because he knew he didn’t deserve normalcy or happiness.

Or forgiveness.

Paige Zukowski sent him one last scathing glower before turning away and dashing down the marble stairs away from the registrar’s.

Either she’d decided not to drop the class or she’d return later. In either case, he felt as if he’d actually accomplished a small victory. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t want her to leave Presni’s class when actually he wanted her gone completely, but it had something to do with taking her brother away from her. If he couldn’t return Trace, then at least he could step aside so she’d stay in all her classes and attain her college goals.

And maybe in doing so, he’d gain a measure of atonement. Or maybe he was just fooling himself, and he was doomed to live with this guilt for the rest of his life.