Devil on the Rooftop [Book 1]

Chapter 6 - Khaleel

The student council room was big with double doors leading to a storage room, an event space, and an archival library. So, this was where my old man's money went. He was happy to make contributions to the academy as long as his investments were made on people, not things. That's why he focused all his time and energy on nurturing boxing talents across the globe.

There were other talents my old man recruited, trained, and employed. I had gone head to head with a whole lot of them and lost myself along the way. They tried to hold their punches because of my age but dear old dad told them to toughen me up. Sometimes it felt like I had been swinging fists my whole life but that just wasn't true—there was a time when violence didn't know my name. A time when I wasn't being drawn into the darkness; into a world where boys were broken so men could be made.

I turned my attention to the citrusy scent wafting through the student council room; it was all I could do to avoid pulling memories from my childhood. The smell came from a strange device that spurted puffs of vapour and then dispersed into the air.

"What the hell is that thing?" I spoke to the only other person in the room. "And why is it violating my nostrils?"

No reply.

I moved to sit on the square desks that had been pushed together to create a long rectangular table. "I'm surprised you agreed to let me in the council," I said, motivated to get a reaction out of the student body president. "Do you know what this means for your brother? Having a man on the inside?"

Tomasia turned her back on me and continued to scribble notes in a purple booklet. I glared daggers at her, wondering how anyone could find this rude woman attractive? Zander was a moron. He thought spending one-on-one time with her was a privilege but he couldn't be more wrong. I had known her almost as long as her brother and I could say with certainty that he was a lot more likeable.

The door opened to reveal a bright and smiley athlete. I had no idea where she came from but her arrival thawed the cold atmosphere.

"Made it!" she declared.

My eyes fell to her white soccer cleats and sturdy legs—women in sports were right up my alley and damn, she was no exception. I admired the way her blue jersey hugged her curvy figure; the way those shorts appealed to my gaze. She set her duffle bag aside and stretched her arms up to the ceiling, her damp, long, and curly ponytail swaying to expose her neck. The citrusy fragrance returned stronger than ever but this time it didn't offend. Instead, it reminded me of my old man's villa, and how my old lady used to pick fresh lemons to make her famous iced tea.

My chested ached in response.

"Did you win?" Tomasia asked, without looking up from her notebook. Her question snapped me out of it and for the first time today, I was grateful to be in the same room as her.

"Duh!" the girl exclaimed.

"Hey," I greeted her.

Her arms stopped swinging mid-air when she noticed me. Her almond eyes widened in surprise and she cautiously stepped back. I appreciated the structure of her round face, the shape of her brows, her tanned complexion, and the beauty mark on her left cheek. The longer I stared, the more familiar she looked. Did we have classes together? Was she one of Zander's fangirls? Maybe she was one of our clients? I couldn't put my finger on it.

"What is he doing here?" she snapped.

Tomasia set her pencil down. "Yes, unfortunately, we will be accommodating this headache from now on," she said. "The dean has got it in his head that we can somehow tame this reckless idiot."

"Who are you calling an idiot?" I sneered.

Tomasia knew she could push my buttons as much as she liked. There would be no consequences for her to face, not while her brother was around. "Khaleel will be taking minutes during our meetings instead of Laure," she said. "He will be our assistant until further notice, essentially our very own little—"

"Bitch," I interrupted, getting off the table.

"I was going to say, helper."

I moved towards the athlete and towered over her. "Are you the treasurer?" I asked.

"No."

"The secretary?"

She glared at me.

"A committee member?"

"I'm the vice president!"

"That's how I know you!" I exclaimed. "Man, it was really bugging me! You made that big speech to raise money for breast cancer survivors. Right? That was you!"

She took a step back.

"What's with the cold shoulder, Vice Prez? I don't bite."

"My name is Matilda Hawkins," she snapped, her eyes glistening a little. It looked like she was holding back tears. "If you're going to be in the student council then you're going to have to leave your violent tendencies at the door!"

I raised my brow. "Uh, not sure where this aggression is coming from but you need to relax. I haven't done anything violent."

"Your track record says otherwise," Matilda lectured, regaining composure. "So, I'm warning you. No roughhousing. No fights. No idiocy."

I pouted. "Aw, you're no fun."

I wasn't expecting the student body president to intervene but she did. "If you disrespect us or become a hindrance then we won't hesitate to let the dean know," Tomasia added.

I gave her the side-eye. "Wouldn't dream of it, Tommy."

"Don't call me that!" Tomasia's voice was so sharp, so loud, it startled Matilda.