Reckless Souls (Saints Academy, #1)(20)
instance, we reach out to the human representative for the Hex, and they provide the assistance
required to help with finances,” she says with a smile, lifting a tablet to tap away, and I balk at what
she’s saying.
“I don’t want someone else to—”
My words are cut short as she lifts a finger, pausing me as she aims it at the table to my right, the
sound of a call ringing. But what has my attention is the blue lighting that suddenly appears on the
circular silver disc on the floor. I hadn’t noticed it before. What the fuck is it?
“Hello?”
A gruff voice comes through the phone, familiarity ringing in my ears as Beverly starts to ramble,
and I feel my breaths getting shallower with each passing second. “Mr. James, I’m sorry to bother you
at such an early time, but I have a new entry into Saints Academy from Phoenix Valley, and we need
to arrange linking them to your accounts.”
The guy clears his throat, a sigh barely audible, followed by some shuffling. “Just a moment,” he
states as Beverly smiles down at me, nodding toward the blue lighting, when the back of a man's head
appears, followed quickly by the rest of him.
My heart lodges in my throat. Reason number one, the fact a holographic version of someone has
just randomly appeared in front of me, and two, I fucking detest the person looking back at me with
wide eyes. Now so more than I ever had before.
Motherfucking cunt.
“Rhea,” he breathes, surprise etched in his features, before he coughs, and looks to Beverly.
“Beverly, a moment please,” he advises, short and curt, and she happily obliges, squeezing my
shoulder before stepping out of the room and shutting the door behind her. “What the fuck, Rhea?”
I scoff at the audacity of this man. “Fuck you, Dante,” I bite, my hands clenching in my lap as I
glare at the man before me. “Or should I call you, Mr. James?”
“What are you doing there?”
“What am I doing here? What do you think I’m doing here? How about you explain to me the fact
you’re Mr. fucking James, the human representative for the Hex, not Dante Paul, the IT guy for the
local news,” I hiss, completely in shock at the fact that he lied about who he was, on top of fucking
cheating.
Did I really date this pathological liar?
He sighs, a hint of disappointment in his gray eyes as he looks at me. “We need to talk, Rhea,” he
states, and I shake my head.
“Like fuck we do,” I retort, even more angry at myself for letting this, him, affect me.
“You ruined the tires on my car,” he states, like that’s what’s important here right now. I bark out a
sarcastic laugh because is this guy for fucking real?
“I’m dealing with bigger shit than you and your goddamn car, asshole,” I grind out, rising to my
feet and pointing my finger in his direction.
He should be lucky he’s not here, because I would fucking throttle him right now.
“Could you let me explain, Rhea? I never—”
Taking a deep breath, I get a handle on my emotions and raise my hand, and to my surprise he
stops. “Honestly, I don’t give a shit, Dante. I didn’t love you, we just fucked, not enough apparently,
but really, we were never more than that. I’m hurt by the disrespect, nothing else.” My words are true
and honest, and he must see it because he doesn’t snark back at me. “Now do you want to explain how
you are… you?”
“The Hex doesn't really mean anything down here in Phoenix Valley, Rhea, so no one knows who
I am or what I do. Things are a little different up in Paradise Heights. What’s more intriguing right
now is the fact that you’re sitting in Saints Academy and enrolled as a student.” He pauses for a
moment, likely running over the bit of information on my past I offered to him, before he sighs, a
sympathetic smile on his lips. “Are you okay?”
The question catches me off guard, stunning me silent for a moment since I haven’t had time to
think about it, before I nod once in a non-committal response. “I’ll be fine.”
My tone is cold, distant, and completely void of any emotion. I watch as he swipes a hand down
his face, before pinching the bridge of his nose, likely trying to find his patience.
“I’ll get the financial aid taken care of immediately.” I open my mouth to argue, but he continues
before I can even try. “It’s not an option. It’s protocol. The Academy has my details set up in case of
an instance like this involving earthlings.”
I hate that god awful nickname on his lips too, and it makes me hate him even more because of
how he degrades us… them.
“I don’t want to have to speak with you ever again. Ever,” I reply, somber in acceptance.
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” he states, his voice earnest, but it means nothing to me now.
Apparently, this fucker was living more than a double life, thinking he was a God walking among men
on earth. Shame on me for buying into it.