Page 22 of Mayhem

Those were better.

“Who touched you?”

“Nobody.”

I squeezed his jaw until his lips parted around a sharp breath. “Try again.”

Ronan stayed where he was, one ankle resting over his opposite knee. Calm. Watching. He looked more annoyed than worried, which was fair. Somebody getting hands on Nichlas wasn’t interesting by itself. Somebody doing it after Hunter doubled his coverage was.

Nichlas looked at him first, apparently hoping Ronan would save him from me. Ronan lifted one eyebrow.

“Echo,” Nichlas said.

I stopped.

There were a lot of Echos in the world. Probably. I’d never cared enough to check. There was only one currently enrolled at Aldrich who had looked at me that afternoon like she was deciding whether shoving me into a wall would be more satisfying than climbing me.

I released his chin slowly. “Echo Matthews?”

Nichlas’ face did something strange at hearing the whole name. Fear, mostly, but there was history underneath it.

That made me interested all over again.

Ronan leaned forward and braced his forearms against his thighs. “The transfer?”

“Yes.”

I looked back at Nichlas. “Why?”

“She’s fucking crazy.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“She came at me in the east wing. She knew where I’d be.” He wiped at his mouth and looked at the blood on his thumb like it was evidence we should care about. “She followed me. She grabbed me, threatened me—”

“You’re still leaving something out.”

Nichlas’ gaze snapped to mine.

I smiled. “Who is she to you?”

“No one.”

I caught his chin again, harder this time. “You’re really bad at this.”

His nostrils flared. “She’s my ex.”

Ronan made a quiet sound beside me. Not surprise exactly. More like something had finally clicked into place.

I stared at Nichlas for another second before letting him go. “Your ex crossed the country, enrolled at Aldrich, found you, and choked you in a hallway.”

“She didn’t come here because she misses me.”

“Shame. I was enjoying the romance.” Ronan gave me a mild warning with my name, but I was already looking at Nichlas differently. An ex didn’t cross the country, transfer into Aldrich, memorize someone’s routine, and leave marks around his throat because the breakup had been disappointing. Whatever Nichlas had done, he knew exactly why Echo was here. “What did you do?”

Nichlas’ face closed immediately. “Nothing. It’s complicated.”

I laughed and leaned back against the edge of the table, watching the muscles in his jaw tighten. “People usually say that when the simple version makes them look like an asshole.” He still didn’t answer, which was better than an answer in some ways. Every time Echo came up, he got worse at hiding what she meant to him and better at confirming that she had a reason to hate him.