She nodded, her black shiny hair catching the blue strobe light from above.
I leaned in again, whispering in her ear. “I’m not suicidal.” Her gasp was subtle, but it was there. “And I never was.”
Pulling back out of her space, I felt her hands tighten on my shoulders. Her thick, black eyelashes fluttered in confusion. Before she could say anything, I turned my head to the left and caught him immediately. I knew where he was the second I stepped foot in here, which was why I had avoided that side of the room. We were two unmoving beings stuck in a pandemonium of sorts. Loud music, gyrating bodies dancing, shots being spilled on the dirty floor, hushed conversations happening. And there we were, staring at one another, locked and loaded like a pistol being held to both of our heads.
His warm eyes were as dark as the night, and sharp, jutting shadows covered his features, showing off his angled jaw and full lips. He wore a white t-shirt and dark jeans, and the second I let my gaze travel his body and found his eyes again, it felt like his hand was around my throat, suffocating me. He glared at me, jaw ticking like a clock that was timing us, and my breath hitched when he scanned me just as I had him. I nearly jumped when his gaze snapped to mine again, the warmth I always found myself latching onto turning into icy disappointment. His lip snarled, and something burned on the inside. One shake of his head, and just like that, I found myself becoming angry. Almost as angry as I had been that first month in the psych hospital when I blamed him for what had happened to me.
I would have never been in that courtyard alone if it weren’t for him.
My lips twisted upward as I kept ahold of his stare, pushing away the sliver of fear and reserved caution I held with almost everyone now, and shook my head right back at him. He had no authority over me, especially not now.
The longer Cade and I stared at one another, the more my body tensed. We were halted, both of us too stubborn and full of quiet confessions, and maybe even a little hate, to look away from one another. Maybe it was my choice of outfit or the constant whispers and gossip that had been happening since I came back, but the skittish, fearful Journey was no longer in sight tonight. I suddenly wanted to bang my fists on Cade’s chest and take out every bit of resentment I had on him. If I didn’t have undisclosed plans for tonight, I may have found some guy to lose myself in just to dig the knife a little deeper into both of our chests.
I silently growled like the muzzle was finally off, and when angry lines formed on Cade’s face, along with an overpowering stench of dominance following his every step, I steadied myself for the impact. We were seconds from exploding, and things were going to be said that I hadn’t braced myself for, no matter the confidence and anger that I was exuding at the moment.
The scratching of the speaker sounded overhead, and the music cut off. Cade stopped mid-step with his hot gaze full of too many things I couldn’t decipher set on me.
A voice reverberated through the room. “Remember the rules, St. Mary’s. And watch out for the Rebels. We’re on the prowl tonight.” There was a pause, and I swallowed the words that were reserved for Cade.
Isaiah shouted from behind me. “Except for me. I’m only here for one girl.”
Some of our classmates laughed, but Shiner, who was the one speaking through the mic, ignored Isaiah’s comment.
“Turn the lights off. It’s claiming time.”
My foot splashedin the same puddle I’d slipped in when going through the thin door to the underground hallway. The faint glow of the candles along the wall warmed me as I shut out the claiming party and other things. I took off my boots, gripping them by the laces, and continued on my path to the headmaster’s office.
My toes were chilled against the tiled floor, but I knew it was crucial to be as quiet as possible when out of bed after curfew. Not so much at St. Mary’s, but at the Covenant Psych Hospital, being found out of your room when you weren’t supposed to be ended badly. Always. So, take it as you will, but I did learn some valuable skills at that psychotic place.
Rounding the hall, I listened past the beating of my heart as I grew closer to Headmaster Ellison’s office door. I glanced at the two tall oak doors that led out to the cold, wintry air and realized just how easy it would be to slip out of them and just leave.
But where would I go?
It was a special kind of torture not having a family or a place to call home. It was precisely why I was breaking into the headmaster’s office to uncover the secrets of my life. I was doubtful there would be anything useful in my school file, but I had to try. When I’d first asked Sister Mary about my past before I ended up at the orphanage, she said there wasn’t much to tell. I was young and naive, and I believed everything that everyone told me. It took me years to fully grasp the concept that people lied, and things weren’t always what they seemed.
If you wanted to find out the truth about things, you had to sort through the secrets and lies on your own, and I was certain my life had a load of them that I wasn’t even aware of. And just maybe it had something to do with what had happened eight months prior.
Tucking my softly waved hair—thanks to Mercedes—behind my shoulder, I placed my ear up to the door of Headmaster Ellison’s office. My heart feasted on fear, but there was a hint of delicious rebellion that followed softly behind each beat. When I felt confident that Headmaster Ellison wasn’t inside and likely back at his new home down the winding road from this school, playing the role of father, I took the hairpin out of my jacket pocket and began working the door like Tobias had taught me to do.
Three misses, but the fourth one would do. I stood up straight, feeling proud of my achievement for a brief second, before turning the handle and quickly darting inside to shut the door behind me. A sigh of relief filled the expansive yet cluttered office. It smelled of burnt wood, the husky, leftover smoke causing me to cough. My boots were placed beside the door, and I walked over the soft carpet and flipped on the lamp on top of his desk. Papers were flung all over it, covering every inch of dark wood. Another small smile found itself on my lips as I laughed at how unorganized Headmaster Ellison always seemed to be. He was in over his head 99% of the time, and it was probably even worse now that he had the newfound responsibility of being a father.
But what would I know about being a father? Or daughter? Nothing. I knew nothing, and Headmaster Ellison seemed like a decent guy from what I could tell. He had a special kind of charisma to his persona, and if you paired that with his warm expression and caring nature, he was about as fatherly as you could get.
My quiet footsteps traveled around the headmaster’s desk as a thrill raced up my spine. I’d missed sneaking around. A sort of calmness found itself nestled inside as the solace of this messy office surrounded me while looking for anything related to me or my past.
I wasn’t naive enough to think there was anything useful in here. It wasn’t as if there would be a giant red arrow pointing to some boogie monster in my past that led me in the direction of whoever tried to kill me, but I had to start somewhere, and this was a good beginning. I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask Cade if he was the one to do it, or if he knew what had happened to me that night. No way. Not yet. I wasn’t sure my heart could take either answer.
After shuffling through the papers scattered on the desk, peeking at Tobias’ school schedule that, thankfully, was very similar to mine, I tried to pry open the two drawers near the bottom ledge, but they were locked. My hairpin kept getting caught, and a fine line of sweat began to trail over my hairline, so I moved past those and tiptoed over to the bookshelves that surrounded the fireplace. I coughed again, covering my mouth from the lingering smell of burnt wood. There were lines and lines of books that went all the way to the ceiling, and I was suddenly very jealous that the headmaster got to spend his days here instead of the glamorous halls of St. Mary’s where gossip was the pulse that allowed this school to live.
Rushing over to the chair that I sat in just a day ago, I pulled its heavy mass over to the bookshelf and climbed on top, trailing a single finger over each spine of the archaic books that gave me comfort in the simplest of ways. I’d always found myself reading as a young child and even now as I entered adulthood. Books were an escape—a way to live a different life at a different time. And when your days were filled with unwanted visits from future adoptive parents who didn’t wantyou, they came in handy when you had to reconstruct that feeling of disappointment into something else.
My eyes shut as I breathed past the smoky scent of the fire and inhaled the dust of history and a thousand lives. The thought already occurred to me that I may sneak a book or two from the shelf—maybe one that I didn’t think the headmaster would miss—and spend my evenings reading instead of snooping through the school for any indication that there was someone here that wanted me dead. Just as I opened my eyes, staring at the files that were on the very top shelf, I froze. My hand stilled against the spine of Jane Austen’s Emma, and fear rushed down my spine like dominos falling to their ending.
“I see your love for books hasn’t died.” His voice stacked those dominos right up, and they pounded me in the back until they thudded straight into my chest. My eyes were locked on the tattered book in front of me, one leg up on the shelf as my other stayed on the arm of the chair, stretching as far as it could without causing me to buckle. The door shut quietly behind him, and I swore the headmaster’s office kicked up another degree. “What are you doing here, Journey? You know there is a library full of books, just like the one you’re stealing…free for you to read.”
Annoyance blinded my shock of him following me, which irked me to oblivion. I should have known that he’d somehow find me. He had the skills of a true predator.
“Ah,” he said, voice much closer. I didn’t dare peer over my shoulder to meet his gaze. It wasn’t that I was too stubborn. It was because I was afraid for many, many reasons. “Jane Austen? There’s an entire section of Jane Austen novels in the library…remember?”