Clear Lake Academy holds the worst of the worst delinquents from around the country. Each and every student there holds a notorious background that led them there and almost everyone avoids them.
After setting the tenth building on fire, which just...
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Only one light burned inside the house as we walked up the cobblestone path toward the place I'd escaped to for years.
My fingers tightened around Bentley's the closer we got, self-hatred clawing up my throat. He opened the door, keeping my hand in his as he pushed it wide and guided us in. When he turned to lock it, my gaze drifted immediately to the man sitting on the couch.
Will sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees. At the sound of us entering, he lifted his head. He still wore his white shirt and suit trousers, his tie hanging loose around his neck. His eyes gleamed with a look that I had seen one too many times and his hair was a mess—like he'd run his hands through it again and again.
Bentley gave my hand one last squeeze before stepping past me, his broad back blocking my view for a moment as he disappeared down the dark hallway toward the others.
Will's gaze dropped to the front of my dress. The moment his eyes returned to mine, I knew he'd pieced everything together—the shouting, the sudden quiet that simmered with tension, the way my father and I had squared off, and the state I was in when I left that room. I'd gone in spotless, my dress crisp and white. I'd come out rumpled, marked by dirty, scuffed shoe prints.
That's when I noticed the tickets on the table, the envelope beside them with my name written across the front. Numbness washed through me as realization hit. Asford Camp. A single ticket. Two years. No return.
Anger flared hot beneath my skin.
For the first time, I think both Will and I were equally lost—we didn't know what to do, what to say, what the first move should be. So we did nothing. We just stared at each other in a strange, quiet understanding, as if we were speaking through our eyes, and he knew I didn't want to talk.
I crossed the room and sat on the couch opposite him. Bentley's jacket felt rough on my skin, and the dress clung uncomfortably—an ugly reminder of a fear that had already come true.
And who knew how soon the next one would? At this rate it was only a matter of time.
I don't know what shifted, only that one moment we were staring at each other in silence, and the next we were both on our feet. I threw myself into his arms. Will wrapped me up instantly, holding me firmly as I pressed my head beneath his chin and wrapped my arms around his solid frame as tightly as I could.
No matter what, he was my safe place.
"I'm sorry." I whispered, voice trembling with emotion. He didn't speak for a while, Instead, his arms tightened around me, as if he could force comfort into my bones through sheer willpower. His silence nudged me forward even though all I wanted was to sleep—sleep and get as far from this town as humanly possible. "I never should have raised my voice."
"It's okay-"
"It's not." I shook my head, eyes falling shut as I let the darkness wrap around me like a blanket. "You've always looked out for me, and for some reason I always ended up right back with you. Every time I got myself into trouble—things you'd never expect your kid to be mixed up in—I somehow walked into your station like a miracle. And you never once pushed me away or left me sitting in that cell."
