I walk across the courtyard, the early morning air assaulting me. The uniform I'd been supplied with fits me almost perfectly, the button up white shirt adding a touch of class to the otherwise boring uniform. I wear the school cardigan over the top, the burgundy shade complimenting my hair nicely.

The grey plaid skirt rests above my knees, with the white ankle socks and black patent shoes completing the look.

All in all, I feel like an imposter.

I reach the doors leading to the classrooms, stopping within a metre and releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding.

And then I push them open and walk in.

Instantly, I feel eyes on me, judging me and finding me lacking.

I ignore the scathing looks and whispers, turning left down the corridor to find my first class of the day.

And promptly stop at the person blocking my way.

The boy is taller than me but not by much, his dirty blonde hair swept back in what I assume he believes is 'hot mess' but just seems to be missing the hot part.

He takes a step closer, trying to force me to take a step back but I don't so we ended up standing way too close for comfort and I scrunch my nose up at the metallic smell of his cologne. I take a step back just to save my nostrils but he only follows and I curse myself for the move.

He smiles, the move showing off pearly white teeth that I'd bet money were veneers and then his arm lifts, resting on the locker beside me and caging me in. I turn to stare at the offending limb before looking back at him with a deadened expression.

"Haven't seen you around before." He moves his face closer to mine, looking down on me.

"I'm new." I say deadpan, stating the obvious as I feel the sliminess of his gaze slip down me, skimming my chest in the uniform. At least I'm glad the buttons go high enough to stop his leering gaze from seeing more than I want him to. Though if he doesn't take a step back in three second I'm going to punch him and it wouldn't do well to get kicked out on my first day. I can't cause trouble.

Go to school, get good grades, escape. That's all I need to do and I need this scholarship to get to the escape part. I take a soothing breath and tense my fists, keeping them at my side.

He leers at me, leaning closer until I can smell what he had for breakfast and I mentally gag, reminding myself of my promise.

No trouble.

"What do you want?"

"I'm Lachlan." He says, looking up and down my body appreciatively.

"And I don't care." I move to the side to rid myself of his presence but he slides with me, moving his other arm to lock me in place. "You're making me late for class." I utter.

"Stick by me and they won't care." He flicks his head to the side, dirty blonde hair sweeping back from his green eyes.

I smile, moving to duck under his arm but he stops me, "I'll take my chances with a reprimand."

He only smiles, as if I'm flirting with him and not trying to escape.

"People call me 'The Taxman.'"

"Congratulations?"

For the first time since this conversation had started, his mask slips, lips tightening at my attitude. Not impressed. But I'm not impressed by his company so I guess we're even.

He raises a brow, as if the name should mean something to me and so I take the bait, "Why do they call you the taxman?" I say the words like I'm speaking to a small child, indulging their every whim so you don't set them off crying.

"Girls like you have to pay a tax," he flashes that grin again, the look sort of deranged, "and I'm more than happy to collect."

I let my eyes run down his figure before slowly letting them come back to narrow at his eyes. "And what type of things do you collect?" I let my tongue roll around the word, looking at him with thinly veiled disgust.

"He's about to collect my fist if he doesn't move the fuck away." A new voice enters the conversation and I turn my head slightly to regard the brothers, rolling my eyes at the tattooed ones words even as he moves closer, looking at Lachlan with danger swimming in his dark gaze.

Malac, his brother had called him Malac the night before.

Said brother slips in beside me, staring down at Lachlan like he's beneath him in every conceivable way, the humour on his face only skin deep.

"Back off, Lachlan. You know what happened last time you stuck your nose where it didn't belong." His words hold a deeper meaning, one I can't decipher.

Lachlan steps back, anger swallowing his features before he looks to me, the dark leer taking over before his beady eyes skim down my figure, "We'll be talking."

Malac almost growls at the look, stepping forward before his brother stops him with a hand on his shoulder. "No, you won't be."

The sound of heels making their way down the narrow hallway pulls all the boys attention, a girl coming to a stop at 'the tax man's' side, curling her hand around his bicep and shooting me a possessive look.

"What are you doing talking to the trash, Lachy?" Her eyes slip to me, lips lifting in a mocking sweet smile and she bends until we're eyes to eye. "He's taken." Her words are full of poison yet her voice couldn't be sweeter, slick with honey. As thick as it too.

I raise a brow, "I can see that, you can keep him."

Her eyes narrow, the wide doll like features scrunching up with distaste.

One of the brothers at my back speaks, voice low. "C'mon let's go."

It's like the sound of his voice has her noticing who else is part of this conversation and her eyes light up, calculation entering the otherwise empty depths, her hand letting go of Lachlan's elbow to step past Malac - giving him a wide berth and settling next to his brother.

I notice the action, my eyes moving towards Malac as the girl flirts incessantly with the other twin, finding his eyes on me. His lips twitch at the corner before he smooths it out, narrowing those blue eyes on me.

A dark shiver slips down my spine yet it does nothing but entice me closer. I curse inwardly and stay where I am, wishing I wasn't as attracted to bad guys as I am.

That's how I got into this mess.

"Killian, I've missed you. Why didn't you call me like you said you would?" She lifts a hand, moving to run it down Killian's arm but he steps back, causing her hand to drop and a scowl to stain her otherwise pretty face.

Killian. I look to the brother whose name I hadn't known, finding his gaze on me for all of one second before focusing back on the girl.

"I never said that."

"Yes, you did." Her words are almost musical, yet I can sense the whine at the end of the sentence.

"No." Malac says, amusement flooding his tone, "I believe he said he would kill you, not call you."

She steps back, ignoring Malac's words and slips her hand through Lachlan's elbow again.

"You know where to find me." Reaching inside her jacket pocket, she retrieves a card and holds it in the air between her and Killian, the card clutched between two perfectly manicured fingers. "Here's my number, since you seemed to have lost the other one."

A card with her fucking name and number on it. I blink at the move, shock slipping through me before she tucks it in the front pocket of Killians button up.

"He didn't lose it." Malac mutters, "we burnt it and danced around it in glee, singing 'the witch is dead.'" His voice in monotone, no amusement in the tone or in those blue eyes of his, even if the words bring me amusement.

She doesn't give him a response, fingers tapping against Lachlans arm and then they're off, striding through the hallway.

The first bell rings, calling for people to start walking to class.

I tighten my hand on the books in my grip and leave the two brother behind me.

My feet are silent as I walk through the hallway teaming with students. My eyes skim past them seeing the everyday normalcy with which they live, sharing laughs with friends.

And then there's me, escaping my indebted life with a psychotic killer who will stop at nothing to find me if he were to ever discover I was alive. What a brilliant, normal life I live.

My eyes catch on a sign hanging from the roof, a large arrow directing people further down the cavernous hall and I follow it with my eyes all the way to the library, the large double doors sealed shut.

Engravings litter the doors, the creatures grotesque and mythical.

Feeling a pull towards the library, I take one hesitant step before the final bell for class rings and I turn on my heel, turning my back to the doors.

My fists clench, tightening almost painfully to stop myself from skipping class and devouring the words in those books.

Because despite the lunatic from my past there's also the small fact that there is something seriously wrong with me. Something dark.