Sweet Revenge

Chapter 32

"My father had taught me to be nice first, because you can always be mean later, but once you've been mean to someone, they won't believe the nice anymore. So be nice, be nice, until its time to stop being nice, and then destroy them." -Laurell K. Hamilton.

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I blinked and then stared at the screen of my phone in what can be best described as shock. After a moment the screen went blank and I slowly stood up from my seat on the sofa.

"Oh no..." I trailed off as I suddenly began to pace the room.

This was certainly not good. Marcus knew of my identity and that changed everything. I wasn't afraid. Certainly not. That wasn't the case.  It was that him knowing my identity decreased the chances of getting him back into jail.

"Marcus is going to be mad," Quinton mumbled, rubbing his chin and my pacing slowed down as I came to a stop.

I was certain I hadn't told Quinton about my identity.

"Hold on," I paused, "-and how exactly do you know?" I asked with narrowed eyes.

Quinton closed his mouth and turned to face Alexander. Alexander glanced at him, before looking up at my standing form.

"He heard it from me," Alexander said, his eyes staring directly into mine.

I clenched my jaw and looked back at Quinton. It felt like everybody was now aware of my identity and I hated it. Not only that, Alexander didn't have the privilege to tell who he wanted.

Quinton must've noticed my line of thought, as he sighed and also stood up.

"He didn't tell me straight out. He was mumbling some things and I overheard. Not to mention I sat him down and made him explain," Quinton said as he tried to defend his friend and boss.

"It isn't exactly something to sit and discuss," I replied distastefully.

"Well," Quinton added, "-we also talked about Alexander's...should I say...feelings."

I raised an eyebrow at Quinton. What had that meant?

"Feelings? What about?" I asked curious and this time Alexander stood up to join us.

"This is besides the point," Alexander stated calmly. He walked around the sofa and trailed his finger on the headrest.

"The question is, what now?" Alexander asked and Quinton and I became silent.

I furrowned my eyebrows and with a few steps, slumped into the sofa once more.

Before I could think of something, or before anyone could even discuss a suggestion, my phone chimed with a new text message and suddenly I clutched my phone in my palm even tighter.

"Who is it," Alexander said. It didn't come out like a question. More like a statement.

Perhaps because we all suspected the same person.

Marcus.

Without wasting another second, I slowly turned my phone around.

And like I had expected, Marcus' name was displayed on my phones wide screen.

"It's Marcus," I deadpanned.

Alexander and Quinton remained silent as I unlocked my screen to be greeted with a text message.

I stayed dead silent as I read the text mentally.

"So?" Quinton asked impatiently, "-what does it say?"