Consequence: A Dark High School Romance (Holly Oak Academy Book 1)

by G. Bailey

  Joshua drapes an ankle over his knee and looks me dead in the eye.

  “What?” I press him, turning around fully in my seat to scowl at him. “Are you not going to tell me?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  “A surprise?”

  “That’s what I said, darling.”

  “Sounds like you’re taking me on a romantic date, Joshy-washy.”

  “I suppose I am.”

  My heart skips a beat. I didn’t expect him to say that. “So this is a date?”

  He shrugs. “Call it whatever you want. You just better do what I say.”

  “Or else what? You’re going to spank me?”

  A glimmer of lust flashes in his dark eyes. “That wouldn’t be a punishment, now would it?”

  “No. I suppose that would be wishful thinking,” I retort, grinning at him. “Am I going to like this surprise?”

  Little does he know that I hate surprises.

  I’ve got to go along with this one, though. Seduction has always been my best asset and it’s not like I can slit his throat with two bodyguards less than a meter away.

  “Maybe. We’re stopping off somewhere first.” He looks out the window, nodding, as the car pulls up outside a German bakery. “Wait here.”

  I watch him dip out of the car and enter the shop. Two of the guards go with him and the other two remain with me. Through the shop window, I watch Joshua pointing at the cake display and handing a bunch of notes over the counter. The baker gives him a small white box and he leaves the shop. One of the guards opens the car door for him and he slides onto the seat next to me again.

  “Are those for me?” I nod to the box on his lap. “You’re ever so generous.”

  Joshua breathes through his nose. “No, they’re not for you. You’ll just have to wait for your reward.”

  I wasn’t aware punishments also came with rewards. Curious, I lean back in my seat and watch the world skate by the window. There’s something about Joshua that reminds me of…him. Perhaps it’s the way I feel so naturally at ease in his company, or perhaps it’s because I want to fuck him six ways from Sunday right here in this car. Whatever the reason, it needs to go away—pronto—because I cannot fraternise with the enemy.

  Death by seduction, yes, that I can do easily. But I never fuck my prey.

  I can’t fuck my prey.

  That introduces a whole kettle of emotions I really don’t want to be dealing with right now. This is exactly why curiosity is such a bad thing for an assassin. I shouldn’t be curious about how much of a good fuck Joshua will be. The only thing I should be curious about is how long it’ll take him to bleed out.

  I glance at him from the corner of my eye. He’s on his iPhone again and his big hands make it look tiny in comparison. I bet he could crush a skull between them if he tried. I definitely think he’ll be the strongest of the five, so I’ll need to have the element of surprise on my side. While I try to think of the best way to kill this handsome beast of a man, the car comes to another halt and Joshua unbuckles his seatbelt. I peer out the window to assess the damage awaiting me.

  “I don’t understand.” I turn around to face him, searching his eyes for an answer, but he swiftly looks away. “Why have you brought me here?”

  Joshua’s answer is to open the car door and step out with the box tucked under his arm. The guards are all quick to follow him, but when I don’t move immediately, Joshua ducks his head back inside to glare down at me.

  “I had an arrangement with Miss Hector—an arrangement you fucked up. Now you’ve got to fill in for her, so if I were you, I’d get moving.”

  I nearly spit back that I never got the chance to report his scandal, someone else beat me to it, but I stay quiet. I’m intrigued and yet also nervous about this situation. Everything from the perfectly aligned flowerbeds to the Maritime Care Home sign sends a rush of unease through my body. I don’t like hospitals or anything that involves people dying, which is ironic considering I’m a harbinger of death, but there’s just something about these places that make me uncomfortable, particularly old people’s homes. Maybe it’s simply that these people got to live full and long lives, and I’m always risking my own and never really getting the chance to live the life I want. If I even know what that is anymore.

  “Come on.” Joshua grabs my arm and pulls me out of the car. “It’s time to say hi.”

  He then places his hand on the small of my back, his touch surprisingly gentle, and steers me through the double doors. I like a man that suggest the way to go, without demanding it.

  Once all six of us step into the care home, the smell of disinfectant and fresh laundry wraps around my senses. Thank you, Jesus. For a second I was worried this place would stink like urine and feces mixed with impending doom. So far the smell doesn’t make me want to be sick.

  Joshua’s hand is still on my back as he leads me down a peach hallway. Nurses in mint-green uniforms smile as we approach the reception. Even the pretty young receptionist seems to light up when she sees Joshua, and she slides a form over the desk. Clearly Joshy is a regular visitor here, but who for?

  “How’s the love of my life been today?” Joshua asks the receptionist, filling out the form.

  “A lot better,” the nurse reports cheerily, looking up at Joshua with slightly dazed, lovestruck eyes. “She even came to play bingo with the others yesterday. Can you believe it?”

  Joshua flashes a grin and winks at her. “Did she get lucky?”

  “No, but she was smiling and seemed to really enjoy herself.”

  “That’s all that matters,” Joshua states, and turning to face the bodyguards, he orders, “Stay here, fellas. You’ll just frighten the locals.”

  Three of them hesitate, sharing worried glances with each other.

  The other guard, the tallest silver-fox one with the beard, steps forward and nods. “We’ll wait outside like usual, aye?”

  “Cheers, Rory.” Joshua pats the Scottish bodyguard on the shoulder, then steers me toward another hallway filled with doors.

  A few residents roll by in wheelchairs, chatting and laughing with each other. They don’t seem unhappy so that’s a little comforting. I always worry about the elderly getting taken advantage of in places like this. The fact that I do worry reminds me that I’m still human at the end of the day. I’m not fully corrupted yet.

  I doubt Joshua will answer me, but I ask anyway. “Who are we going to see?”

  This time, he does reply. “My Bibi.”

  “You’re what?” I frown up at him as he pauses beside one of the closed doors. “Your baby?”

  “My Granny,” he explains, knocking once on the door before entering.

  There are so many questions I want to ask him. I bite my lip, forcing them down, and follow him into the room. It’s surprisingly larger than I expected it to be. While there are clearly things in place to assist an elderly person, such as pulley equipment attached to the ceiling and emergency call buttons everywhere, the room is spacious and tastefully modern. The flooring is a rich pinewood with high-gloss furniture and a large shaggy rug under the glass coffee table. There’s a fabric corner sofa at one side of the room and two chairs by an electric fire on the other. One of the chairs are turned away, but I can see the arms of a fluffy housecoat that I suspect belongs to Bibi.

  “Who are you?”

  The voice is quiet and shaky.

  “It’s me, Granny. It’s your Joshua.”

  A frail, bony hand reaches down to press the button on the side of the chair. Slowly but surely, Bibi turns away from the fire to look over at us, and I expect her to be holding a white kitty with a pinkie pressed to her lip. Instead, the person sitting there is a frail old woman with slightly flushed dark skin, probably from the stifling warmth in this room, and her eyes are deeply set in their sockets. I can tell just from her bone structure that she’s extremely thin underneath her baby blue housecoat.

  When she picks up her glasses from the table beside her, and sha
kily puts them on, a horrified look creeps onto her face.

  “Oh, no, no, no, no,” she says, rocking back and forth in her chair. “My grandson is just a little boy. You’re too big to be Joshua. Go on and get out of here before I call for the nurse! Go on now—leave!”

  Joshua makes no attempt to leave. He crosses the length of the room, bends down at the woman’s side and takes her hands between his own. He doesn’t say anything. He just looks deeply into her eyes while gently stroking and patting her hands like she’s an injured child. There must be something magical in his touch because the woman stops rocking. As some realisation dawns on her, a faint smile lifts her lips.

  “You’re the nice boy who comes to visit me, aren’t you?”

  Tears well in my eyes as I watch them. This is her grandson and she doesn’t even recognise him. Anne’s dad had dementia, and towards the end, he didn’t even recognise the wife he’d been married to for over thirty-five years. Jesus, he hardly recognised himself.

  I wonder if Bibi has that, too. It’s such a horrible disease. It eats away at your mind until there’s nothing left.

  “Yeah, it’s me, Bibi. I told you I wouldn’t miss your birthday.” Joshua reaches out to move strands of grey hair out from her eyes. “The nurses said you’ve been playing bingo with the other residents. Did you have fun?”

  She nods quickly. “Yes, yes I did. But that Elsie Corbett is a bare-faced liar and a thief. She stole my lucky dabber. I warned her, boy. I said if you do that again I’ll shove my dabber where the sun don’t shine and you’ll be shitting ink for a week. That shut her up, so it did.”

  Bibi leans back and laughs, a great loud one that makes me smile. Joshua laughs, too, and places the box onto the coffee table before dropping into the chair beside her. I linger in the doorway, not wanting to disturb them, yet also wanting to know why Joshua brought me to see his grandmother. I decide to make my presence as little as possible and lean against the door, watching them and trying to figure everything out.

  “What’s in there?” Bibi points a shaky, liver-spotted hand at the box.

  Joshua leans over and opens it. It’s a small cake with blue frosting and white letters that say Happy Birthday.

  Bibi gasps. “You shouldn’t have! All for me? Really now? You shouldn’t have.”

  Her tired eyes glow a little as she smiles over at Joshua. You can see the love and happiness written on her face as clear as day.

  Joshua helps her reach for the envelope, then she slowly shakes it to check if there’s any money. It seems to be a running joke with them because they’re both smiling at each other. Bibi giggles like a little girl who’s just snuck into the cookie jar, but then she drops the card on her lap, and she stares at Joshua for a moment. The smile fades from her lips as if a shadow has been drawn over her.

  “Where’s my Dominique? He’s supposed to be visiting me today. It’s my birthday and he hasn’t shown yet.”

  Joshua pauses, his Adam’s apple jerking nervously in his throat. “He’s gone to the beach to fetch you more of the shells you like.”

  “He has?” Her face brightens up again, like sunbeams breaking through the clouds after a terrible storm. It’s both amazing and painful to see. “I already have six of them. Look at how pretty they are.”

  She digs into her housecoat pocket and brings out a handful of colourful shells, and she’s smiling so proudly at them that the tears I’m holding back begin to fall. I hurriedly wipe them away in an attempt to mask the fact that I’m a total sap at heart.

  Assassins do not weep.

  “And who are you?” Bibi asks Joshua again.

  He gives her a name this time. “I’m Tyler. Dominique’s friend, remember?”

  “Oh, yes, yes, yes. I do. The nice boy who comes to visit me.” Noticing me in the corner, she points, “And who is she? Is this your fiancé…what’s her name, Ashley? The one you were telling me about?”

  Joshua smiles at me. “That’s the one. Ain’t I a lucky man?”

  “Yes, she’s very beautiful,” the woman agrees. “Go make her some tea.”

  “But she doesn’t drink—”

  Before he can finish, Bibi smacks him weakly on the arm. “Boy, don’t make me slap you silly! Go on now and make the girl a cup of tea. And me one, too, while you’re at it. I’m sitting here with a mouth like Gandhi’s flip-flop.”

  Joshua laughs and goes away into what I assume is the kitchen. I imagine this is how his grandmother used to be before she got sick. It must be hard to see her like this—to see anyone go from being a strong, independent person who takes no one’s bullshit, to someone who can barely recall their own name.

  “He’s a good boy but he forgets to scrub behind his ears,” Bibi whispers, tapping the side of her head. “Only hears what he wants to hear, just like my son, Dominique, the soft lad that he is. Come sit over here and let me get a good look at you.”

  Confused doesn’t come close to how I’m feeling right now.

  Fiancé? Ashley? Is that why he brought me here, to pretend I’m his girl?

  But that doesn’t make any sense. He could’ve asked anyone to come here with him.

  l walk over to her anyway and settle down on the chair. Bibi takes my hand in hers and studies me closely. There’s a softness in her eyes that reminds me of Joshua. They’re definitely related. I just don’t think she can remember that Joshua isn’t a child anymore.

  “Yes, I can see why he loves you,” she says at last, patting my hand. “You’ve got a good heart. Kind eyes. Strong will.”

  It’s a shame she’s only right about the last one. Still, it’s the thought that counts. Bibi doesn’t know what atrocities I’ve done or the secret I carry inside me every day. Strangely, I like that she doesn’t know.

  “I’ve been waiting to give you this,” Bibi tells me, turning my hand around. “It will bring you good luck on your wedding day.”

  I glance down at the heart-shaped shell sitting in the hollow of my palm. “I couldn’t possibly!” I shout in a whisper. “These are yours, Bibi, and you love them.”

  She gives me a hard look, one I bet used to put the fear in Joshua when he was a kid. “You’ll take it and I’ll hear no more.” Patting my hand, she adds quietly, “Please. It’ll make an old woman like me happy. My son is bringing me more today, anyway.”

  Joshua appears then, carrying a tea tray with some biscuits. He sets it down on the coffee table and hands me and Bibi one of the delicate china cups. Luckily I’ve had tea plenty of times back home, mostly because of my mother, who feels I should be a lady as well as an assassin. Apparently you’re not a lady unless you drink tea from pretty petite cups.

  While Joshua mixes sugar cubes into his and Bibi’s cups, I look over the birthday cake.

  “Hey, are there any candles for the cake?” I whisper in his ear.

  He regards me for a moment through narrowed eyes. “Yeah, should be in the kitchen.”

  “Great.”

  I set my cup down, grab the box, and carry it into the kitchen. If I’m supposed to play the part of a doting fiancé, I should put myself to good use. Bibi’s laughter makes me smile as I look around for plates and candles. I’m not even sure she’ll be able to eat cake but I cut her a slice anyway, then I find some used candles hiding in the cutlery drawer.

  After I’ve placed the candles in a row along the top of the cake, I start opening all the cupboards in search of plates. That’s when I find an entire box filled with birthday cards in the cupboard next to the sink. Some of them have been crushed in, but they’re all the same pink color, and when I pick them up and read them, they’re all to Bibi from Tyler.

  Tyler as in Joshua, her grandson.

  There must be thousands of them in here.

  His handwriting is a little messy, the complete opposite of Truth’s. That’s a good sign at least.

  “Babe, did you find everything?” Joshua calls from the room.

  “Yes, I’m just coming.”

  I shove the cards
back into the box, close the door, and grab some plates from the cupboard by the door. I’m just about to walk through when Joshua appears in front of me.

  “Need a lite?”

  I extend the cake to him, watching his face closely as he lights the candles with a lighter. Here I thought I’d finally get some information about him but I think I’m just adding to my list of questions. At this rate, I’m playing more of the detective role than the assassin.

  With the cake lit, we go back into the room, and I start to sing Happy Birthday. Joshua is a little late to join in, probably surprised by the gesture no doubt, and Bibi is all teary-eyed as we sing to her. But as we sit down to eat the cake, I think we’ve overstayed our welcome. Something changes in Bibi again and she throws her cake on the floor, yelling at us to get out, then she starts rocking in her chair again and asking who we are.

  “It’s time to go,” Joshua says, leaning over me to press the call button beside her chair. “The nurses will calm her down. Come on.”

  He takes me out of the room before I even get a chance to say goodbye. It’s strange how quickly I grew to like spending time with Bibi. Sure, I had to repeat myself a few times, but she’s one of those people who just make you smile regardless of what it is they say.

  Two nurses rush down to Bibi’s room and the bodyguards meet at the entrance of the care home.

  “Everything all right, Josh?” the Scottish bodyguard inquires.

  I watch Joshua closely, but his expression doesn’t falter.

  “Yeah, all good, man. Can you take us back to the academy?”

  Rory, I think his name is, gestures to his men and we all get into the cars. My head is swimming from the questions swirling around. Fiancé. Tyler. Bibi. All those birthday cards. What did Miss Hector have to do with any of this? What, exactly, was the arrangement she had with Joshua?

  As soon as the car starts moving, I tap Joshua on the shoulder. “All right, big guy. It’s time me and you had a talk.”

  He opens his mouth to speak, but I hold my hand up to pre-empt him.

  “First of all, the creepy birthday cards. When I went into the kitchen, there was a whole cupboard filled with the exact same card, all written from you. Now, I’m no mathematician, but there should only be around eighteen cards from you to your grandmother. There was easily over a thousand in that cupboard. Maybe five thousand. I don’t know. I didn’t stick around long around to count them.”