by Lindsey Iler
“Come out. Come out, wherever you are.”
Henry Lexington.
“Fuck.” Marek rolls off the bed, bends down, and slips into his pants. With a smack to my thigh, he heads for the door. “Get dressed and come look the devil in the eyes.”
The door shuts behind Marek, and I stretch out on the mattress. Their voices rise and fall as I relax, unsure if I’m prepared to walk out of this room. My eyes scan the area, and I sit up when something catches my attention. I dress quickly, knowing Marek and Henry will be expecting me in a few minutes.
My eyes lock on a desk. We’re supposed to be looking for anything to link Henry to the disappearances. Maybe I can find proof that he’s involved with selling girls on campus under the ruse of philanthropy.
I open the drawer, watching the light at the bottom of the door for signs of anyone incoming. Softly, I move papers around, coming up empty-handed. Henry is a smart businessman, the type who has more than likely cut his fair share of corners. He wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave anything in the open, especially knowing Marek has access.
I drop to my knees, remembering something my father told me when I was younger. I had walked into his den and found him hiding something under his desk.
“Hiding items in plain sight is the only way to blind those around you.”
Marek’s voice raises, and shuffling feet outside the door startle me. Blindly, I grope the underside of the desk, my finger catching on something smooth. I scratch the corner of the tape until it releases, pry the plastic bag off the bottom of the drawer, and fold it in half, stuffing it in my pants. As I’m yanking my shirt over it, the door swings open.
“You going to show your face sometime tonight, doll?” Henry props his forearm on the doorframe, the light behind him casting his face in the shadows.
Before I can walk past him, he wraps his hand tight around my bicep. My eyes shift to his. I straighten my spine, showing I will not be threatened or succumb to whatever power move he’s using to try to stump me.
Marek’s hand reaches for mine, and I place my trusting one in his.
“I got you,” he whispers as we walk straight for the front door.
“Now, now, now.” Henry skirts past us, clicking the lock. “Before you go, I think we need to discuss a few things.” Marek and I look at each other, then turn to his uncle. “You did just use my apartment as a sex pad, so consider us even.” He gestures to the large leather couch.
Once the three of us are seated, Henry crosses one leg over the other, cupping his shin to hold his leg in place. He runs his dark, dangerous eyes over us. He’s weighing the odds of whatever it is he wants to talk to us about. Will it be worth the trouble? Is his godson complacent and pliable?
The bold move of Breaker bidding on Delaney is the proof he needs to know we know more than he prefers. The moment his eyes linger too long on me, I’m certain he knows I am the one who facilitated it.
“You seem like a reasonable girl, Palmer,” he starts.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I spit.
My heart hammers in my chest. I sense the unruly effect his words are having on me, not to mention what it’s like to be under his watch. He can make the calmest human feel unsettled. My discomfort and fear don’t stop my body’s desire to dive forward and wrap my dainty fingers around his neck. I may not have proof yet, but I’m certain of one thing. Henry Lexington is a piece of shit, capable of unthinkable things.
“What’s this about, Henry?” Marek’s hand lands on my bouncing knee, easing my frayed nerves. His eyes shift from me to his godfather.
“I feel like we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot since I arrived in town. I’d planned to invite you and your mother over for dinner to discuss a few things.”
“Perhaps you’d like to have a conversation about ambushing me at the fundraiser.”
“You may call it an ambush, but the way I see it, we bailed you out.”
“Is that what you’re calling it? A bail out?” Marek shakes his head. “Why am I not surprised? Bail out and criminal mean the same to the filthy rich.”
At Marek’s harsh words, Henry stands, gesturing for us to do the same. Marek may not have said it, but the words were loud and clear. We’re onto him, and that scares him.
“You say crime like it’s a bad thing,” Henry says. “Let’s not forget, most of your privilege is built on the back of a little criminal activity.”
When we reach the front door, Henry reaches around me and opens it.
“Palmer, can you give Henry and me a minute?” Marek’s eyes beg me not to put up a fight.
“Sure thing.” I shoot one last look at Henry who acts like he’s not the bedrock of some shady bullshit. “I’ll just wait out here for you.”
Out in the hall, I give the expensive décor a closer look. From the gold sconces to the gold laced wallpaper, everything about the space screams money. Since the building is new, most of the floors haven’t been sold yet. When they first broke ground, the town was abuzz with excitement. It’s a great place to hide away from one’s secrets.
A door opens, and I jump behind a small partition at the apartment adjacent to Henry’s. If these walls could talk.
I ease my head forward to see who’s there. Dean Eberstark, with his hand on the delicate part of a girl’s back, is guiding her into one of the three apartments on this floor. As he joins her inside, his eyes scan the main space outside of the elevator.
The door behind me opens, and a thirty-something woman walks out, a white garbage bag in hand. She inspects me like I don’t belong in her doorway. She’s right about that much.
“Can I help you?” Her voice is authoritative yet comforting. Everything about her is. From her soft blonde hair to her sparkling blue eyes, she screams kindergarten teacher.
“I apologize. I thought I lost my earring and was checking the floor in case it bounced over here,” I lie.
Her eyes check my lobes, finding the oval diamonds brilliantly shining on my ears.
“I suggest you get going,” she offers, dropping the bag to her feet. As if she’s been startled, her eyes widen. “You’re Marek Hawthorne, am I right?”
The warmth on my back gives me reason to believe it’s him.
“Depends on who’s asking.” His hands land on my shoulders, rubbing the tension out with one quick squeeze.
“I’m a friend of your uncle’s.” She points to Henry’s front door.
“Godfather,” Marek corrects. “And I can only assume, if he’s a friend of yours, then you’re also a piece of shit.”
She nods once, a barely-there grin creeping into place. She bends to pick up her trash. Marek moves us out of the way to allow her to head for the stairwell. She doesn’t turn to acknowledge the insult, which makes me more curious of what friend truly means.
“We better go.” Marek grabs my hand and pushes the down button on the elevator.
We ride to the bottom floor, and Marek waves to the front desk attendant as we leave the building. He releases a deep sigh, like he’s been holding that breath the entire time we’ve been here.
“Did he seriously pretend like we don’t have a single clue of what he’s up to?” I finally break our silence as Marek turns into the driveway.
“It’s his game, Palmer.” He glances at me. “We’ll deal with him.”
Marek parks in his usual spot, kills the engine, and rests his hands on the steering wheel. His head dips a sliver, putting me on high alert. If Marek is nervous, wound up in any way, whatever is happening can’t be good.
“If Reed is here, we need to talk. All of us. Delaney, the boys, you, and your sister.” His eyes shift to me, and my heart kicks, reminding me the hard part isn’t over.
“I found this.” I work the plastic bag out from my jeans. “I don’t know what it is, but I figured if it’s important enough to hide under his desk, then it may help us.”
Marek takes it from me, rips the seam, and removes the papers. As he devours it, his breaths grow shallow.<
br />
“These are contracts and deeds to the campus.”
“What do you mean?”
“Henry’s attempting to buy the entire school, foundation and all.” Marek drops the paper to his lap. His eyes narrow, worry etching his features.
“Why would he want to be the owner of an academy?” I ask a question I already know the answer to.
“The rich only have one goal. Become richer at any cost.” He shakes his head. “My guess? These deeds”— he grabs the papers and smacks them against the steering wheel— “are Henry’s way of staying in charge. He’ll have no need for Eberstark if he has complete access to this place.”
An agitated Marek is a sight to behold. Being in full control is what he knows, and right now, he has zero control over what’s happening. The little we know is something is going on, and my older sister managed to get wrapped up in the mess.
Marek and I walk into the kitchen to find Reed and Byron cooking dinner together. Seeing them embrace feels oddly natural. My mind goes to the morning after Reed’s arrival—Marek and my sister standing at the stove, and how they appeared to be as comfortable.
“Oh, hey,” Reed says, moving away from Byron. He allows his disapproval to slip onto his face. Rejection burns deep. “Where have you two been?”
“I have a plan, but you aren’t going to like it.” Marek’s eyes shift from my sister to me.
Which one of us is he referring to?
Chapter Eleven
Marek
“Are you sure about this?” Dixon asks, settling beside me outside the cafeteria.
We’re between exams right now. Most of our classmates are taking the lunch hour to grab a quick snack and tuck their noses into the books. Exam time on campus is a personal hell for most of us. These tests count for half of our grades. Glass Heart Academy doesn’t give a shit how we learn, as long as we retain. How that helps us is beyond me. In my opinion, education is nothing but a broken system.
“Not really, but do we have any other choice?” I admit.
I’ve spent the last two days distancing myself from Palmer. It’s the only way to make things believable.
“Well, for starters, we could torture Reed until she gives us some real information.”
“You don’t believe her, then?” I look at him for a split second. When my eyes turn away, I spot Palmer. She rounds the corner behind one of the buildings and sits on the mark we’d agreed upon, in the middle of the quad.
“I think Reed is manipulative, and this may sound ironic coming from someone like me”— he grins— “but the girl is unhinged.”
“She was scared, and while her choices don’t make much sense, let’s try to give her the benefit of the doubt.” I smack the side of his leg as I stand. “We have more important matters to deal with in the meantime.”
“How do you plan on playing this?” Dixon asks as I walk away from him.
“What we did to Palmer before will look like child’s play.” I turn my head and grin.
He shakes his head, a hint of disapproval in his eyes as I turn away and head straight across the quad.
Quinn and Dillon are close, their heads together as they watch me pass. I’ll need to deal with them soon, but for now, my main concern is reading her favorite book. I stop in front of her, eyeing the way her fingers grip the edge of the cover as if the words have coiled around her spine, winding her tight.
When she floats back to reality, Palmer’s eyes lift, and the book drops from in front of her beautiful, soon-to-be broken smile.
“You okay?” she questions.
“I think we need to talk,” I demand, reaching my hand out to help her to her feet.
“What’s going on, Marek?” She bends, trying to force my eyes to hers, but I jerk away, drawing the attention of our classmates. “You’re scaring me.”
“No, if anyone is going to be scared, it’s me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing. I should’ve realized it after you were exposed at Georgina’s celebration.”
“Should have known what?” She grabs my arm, jerking me around to face her. “What the hell is going on?”
Dixon appears at my side. “Don’t play coy, Palmer. Even if we weren’t told, we know the truth has been right under our noses this entire time.”
“Dixon, mind your business. This has nothing to do with you!” Palmer yells, drawing an even bigger crowd.
“On the contrary, my fake, self-centered nympho.” He takes out his phone, clicking over the screen. When he finds what he’s looking for, he leers at Palmer. “You have about five minutes, Palmer.”
“Five minutes until what?” Palmer skims her eyes over the large gathering.
Quinn is a few feet away, a satisfied grin on her face as she watches what she’s always wanted. Palmer’s true demise.
I lean forward, loud and aggressive with my words. “Five minutes to prove what we already know. You’re nothing but a bottom feeder, willing to take your sister’s leftover scraps to feel an ounce of her power and worth.”
“And how do you suggest I prove that?” she questions.
“I think you know.” I dart my eyes to the ground between us.
Her clenched fists pinch into her hips with a false dominance. “And if I don’t?”
Dixon presses his lips to her ear. “Like I said, you have five minutes to decide, or else, every one of your peers within pinging distance will have a full-frontal view of a certain teacher eating your box.”
“You wouldn’t!” she exclaims, shifting her eyes from Dixon to me. They beg for my mercy, but I don’t have anymore to give, not when there’s so much on the line.
A crescendo of beeps and buzzing echoes through the quad.
“I thought you said five minutes!” she shouts, spinning this way and that to gape at our classmates digging into their pockets for their phones.
Immediately, her head hangs low, and she falls to her knees, surrendering herself to me in view of the public. We haven’t made anyone do this since sophomore year. Lauren Honolly. I’m not proud of the cruel act, but it needs to happen.
“It’s open season.” I circle around, shouting to anyone in earshot.
Quinn marches over to Palmer with her hand out like she plans to help her up. I know better. Quinn doesn’t have a kind bone in her body. She’s revving up for an attack, a hit we’ve put on Palmer’s head.
Palmer plays into her initial move, reaching for the offered hand, only to have it jerked away.
“I always knew you were trash,” Quinn barks, a proud grin stretching over her lipstick-stained lips. She lifts her boot-covered foot and thrusts it into Palmer’s chest, pushing her over.
Palmer catches herself before fully crashing into the wet grass.
“What’s with the sudden urge to open the cruelty-filled flood gates?” Quinn asks, running her finger over my chest.
“I’m bored.” I make a point to look at Palmer. She’s broken, seconds from crying, but strong enough to know she has no choice but to stay down until we decide to walk away. “But the same rules apply. Everything gets run through us. No going rogue.”
Quinn pats my chest. “Trust me, we learned our lesson the last time.” She swivels on her heels and walks away, not giving Palmer a second glance.
Once the crowd clears, Palmer rolls to her knees. I hold out my hand, and she reluctantly yet smartly accepts my offer. Once she’s on her feet, a loud slap rings, followed by a sting on my cheek.
I grab her wrist before she can get too far away.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I yank her close, our bodies colliding.
“Go fuck yourself!” she shouts, jerking free.
She stomps away, pushing through the small crowd waiting for lunch hour to end. My eyes don’t leave her body until she disappears around the corner.
“Well, shit. That went better than expected.” Dixon breaks the silence.
“Yeah,
it did,” I whisper, keeping my eyes on the brick building where Palmer’s heading.
“We’re going after her, aren’t we?” He laughs.
“Oh, yeah.”
A few minutes behind Palmer, Dixon and I hurry across campus. When we arrive at the dorm, a rock is propped to keep the front door from closing. Dixon notices it as soon as I do.
“You two are so fucked.” He shakes his head, following me into the elevator.
“You’re waiting here.” I press my hand into his chest as he attempts to walk onto Palmer’s floor.
“What do you expect me to do, ride the elevator up and down?”
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you do, as long as it has nothing to do with what’s about to go down in that dorm room.”
“Like I said, so fucked.” He hits a button on the panel, and the doors shut, leaving me with an image of Dixon’s amused grin as he vanishes.
Filled with determination, I stomp to her door and lower my ear to listen. I hear a whimper. Fuck. I bust through the unlocked door, startling her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Over her shoulder, her eyes narrow on me, disgusted. I’d actually believe it if her scowl didn’t lift to a grin. “I mean, did you have to be so mean?”
I kick the door shut and cross the room. In here, it’s her and me. No one else can watch what we do. In here, we can be us.
“It was a risk coming here.” I press my chest into her back, feeling myself harden as she grinds her ass into me.
She spins, and I capture her arms, pinning them above her head. I bend to run my nose over her bare neck, inhaling everything that has come to be my favorite scent.
“You and I both know you like taking risks.” Her body wiggles under my touch.
“Only with you.” I nip at her jawline. “Now, should I grovel here or in the bed?”
“Here will do.” Her sexy grin grows wider as I slide down to my knees.
“There’s my girl.” I grip the side zipper on her skirt and slowly lower it. Once it falls to the floor, she steps out of the fabric. “I’m sorry for what I had to do out there.”
