With the administration still on high alert, Friday is a fairly easy school day. I catch sight of Lumen and Danyella once, but they very quickly take off when they see me and Chasm together.
I have yet to figure out what’s going on with them, but I’d like to. Chasm, on the other hand, flips off their retreating backs and scowls heavily.
“Cowards,” he murmurs, glancing past me toward Mr. Volli. He registers my presence in class like I’m any other student, but every day that I’m forced to sit there and listen to him lecture, I seethe. He’s the one cutting Parrish, making him bleed. Justin might be the ringleader, but Mr. Volli is a faithful lackey; they’re equally responsible for all of this shit. “You sure your bitch ass isn’t coming to the party tonight?”
Mr. Volli smiles prettily, the skin at the edges of his eyes crinkling in a jovial manner.
God, I hate these people, I think, frowning hard at his expression.
“Unfortunately, no. I have other matters to attend to.”
“More teenagers to kidnap and slice up?” Chasm queries, and Mr. Volli shrugs which is like, creepy as fuck,
“Maybe,” he replies cheerily, popping his head into the hall to yell at a senior boy. “No running in the halls, Mr. Hernandez.” Mr. Volli turns back to us, still smiling. I have a feeling that he’s just like Justin—happy one minute, but so close to snapping that a single word might end with a knife in your neck. “Try to enjoy yourselves tonight; this launch is a big deal for Mr. Prior.”
“One of these days, karma is gonna catch up to you,” Chasm says, his voice low and menacing. I wonder if, when he says the word karma, he doesn’t actually mean himself.
“If so, I welcome her arrival on swift wings,” Mr. Volli says, gathering up his things and putting them into a canvas satchel that he wears with pride, snatching Mr. Fosser’s walking stick on his way out. He turns the lights off, closes the classroom door, and locks it with a set of keys. “I will see the two of you on Monday—if not sooner.”
With the walking stick clanking loudly on the floor beside him, Mr. Volli takes off for the parking garage as Chasm and I exchange a look.
“If not sooner?” he asks, and I shiver.
“No clue what that means, but it can’t possibly be anything good.”
Maxx meets us shortly after, swinging a visitor’s badge around his neck.
“Ms. Miyamoto doesn’t understand why I keep needing these,” he says, lifting it up by the lanyard as Chasm smirks at him.
“Maybe she’s wondering if you’re just here to scam on high school girls?” he remarks, and Maxx gives him a very dark look in response. Not surprising considering my age was a bit of a trigger for him.
“Chasm,” I warn, and he sighs, sweeping his hands over his hair.
“Right. Not a good joke. We can’t exactly tell her that Dakota’s being hunted by her fellow Whitehall students. What excuse did you give?”
“I told her that Kota was struggling with Parrish’s disappearance and that seemed to soothe her,” X admits, studying my face. Excuse it might be, but it isn’t entirely untrue. Each day that passes seems a little longer, a little sadder. Parrish drifts a little further away. Emotional distance grows. New memories are made.
It’s just a fraction of the grief that comes with any other loss. The difference here is that we do have a chance to save him.
“Shall we walk you to your car?” Maxx offers and Chasm nods. We escort him into the parking garage, fully aware that we’re being watched by one of the campus security officers. Usually, there are only two on campus at any given time. I don’t see them much since the campus is huge, and they wander around, patrolling the woods, the hedge maze, the gardens, the parking garage, and the halls themselves.
Today, all six of the regular employees are here, and stationed in very specific places.
But, as Chasm mentioned, it only takes one brat complaining to their parents about being watched and Whitehall will buckle under the pressure. This academy exists to appease rich and powerful parents. It’s a mission that’s exceeded even by their need to educate.
Chas gets in his car and then waits on the edge of the gravel drive outside so that Maxx and I have time to get back downstairs and hop in his Jeep. Non-student and non-staff vehicles aren’t allowed past the parking garage’s gate.
“You have no idea how surprised I was when I saw you smashing cars with that walking stick,” Maxx murmurs, doing his best to stifle a smile. He fails and glances over at me as he starts the car. Chasm waits for us to pass by and then pulls out behind us.
“I let my anger get the better of me,” I admit, thinking back on that day. In reality, it was only last week, but, as with Parrish’s kidnapping, it feels like years. “Which is what they wanted, I think. Justin and Volli.”
“I agree,” Maxx says, pressing his mouth into a slight frown. “So … I think there’s something you should know before we get back to the house.”
I turn toward him, heart thundering. He had to know that particular phrase was going to set me off.
“X, I’m freaking out. Spill it quickly, please.” I yank my phone from my pocket, but the only message I have is one from Justin that reads I’ve sent all your things for the party. I hope you enjoy them. Can’t wait to see you, princess.
Princess, princess, princess.
I’m getting so sick of that damn name.
“The Milk Carton app got a hit on Parrish.”
I go completely still, staring at him with widening eyes.
“It what?”
Maxx hooks a turn toward Medina, and then glances over at me. Chasm, the ass-fuck that he is, speeds up, passes us, and then honks his horn as he blasts by in the left lane, yanking his wheel over so that he’s in front of us. X sighs and rolls his eyes, so I’m guessing the news isn’t bad.
“What does that even mean?” I ask, trying to maintain my calm. “Why would Justin even let that happen?”
“I don’t know. All I know is that it found a few images of him on traffic cams throughout Medina, passed out with his head lolled against the inside passenger window of a car. And all from the night he went missing. The feds are all over right now; this is big news.”
I frown at that. Whatever images Milk Carton is capturing were purposefully engineered by my bio dad. But why? What’s the point in that?
“How’s Tess?” I ask, wondering if this is going to put her in a good mood or a really, really bad one. I already know how she feels about the party. She and Paul were arguing about it when Maxx, Kimber, and I slipped into the garage to head to school this morning. Speaking of Kimber, I can’t decide what she’s up to right now, if she still wants to beat my ass, or if she’s softening toward me.
I’m under no delusions that a single night of looking through photo albums will magically cure all our problems, but it’s a step in the right direction.
“She seems excited honestly,” Maxx admits with a loose shrug. “She’s alternating between freaking out about the party and begrudgingly praising Justin’s app.” He glances over at me, and I can’t help but compare the gorgeous green of his eyes to the rustling leaves of summer-bloomed trees outside the Jeep’s windows. “You get that this is a huge deal, right? Justin Prior was arrested on embezzlement charges, had his company and assets seized, and was declared legally unfit to stand trial. He’s supposed to be in a mental facility, broke and withering away. That’s what everybody in Medina thinks.”
“And now he’s back, richer and more influential than ever.” I think on that for a minute. There are certain people—like Tess, like Paul—who are used to being inside the inner circle of this town, members of a very select and elite club. And now? Here is this outcast sauntering back in and starting a new circle, one whose members are decided solely based on his own wants and desires. That is bound to piss off the wealthy and powerful even further. “Tess seemed surprised that Seamus was in on this whole thing.”
Maxx makes a bit of a face, but I can tell that he does
n’t understand the politics here any better than I do.
“She thought she and Seamus were friends. I think him allowing Justin to not only stay in one of his vacation rentals but also to host his launch party at his house is sort of a blow to her. She doesn’t understand it.”
“And your parents?” I query back, but he just shakes his head again.
“I don’t know. Maybe they invested in the app? They’ve been friends with the Vanguards since like forever ago. I don’t even remember meeting Parrish; I’ve just always known him. You know that my dad worked at Paul’s office as an accountant until recently, right?”
I blink at him in surprise.
“Actually, I didn’t. To be fair, we might have chemistry, but we don’t know each other all that well.”
Maxx’s lips curl up in a very real, very sexy sort of smile.
“Chemistry, huh?” he asks, and I frown on the pretense of keeping the situation serious. In all reality, I’m fighting back a blush. “I look forward to getting to know you better, Kota. Whatever it takes. However long it takes.”
My heart skips a beat, but I don’t play into his flirtations. I’m too nervous. Tonight, whatever happens, it’s going to be intense. Even if it’s just a party full of lying, scheming rich people that’s being hosted by a charming but very talented murderer/software developer.
“Introduce me to your parents tonight, okay?” I ask, and Maxx gives a nod and another smile.
“Happily.” He pauses for a minute, narrowing his eyes slightly before glancing over at me. “How would you like to be introduced? As a friend? As my crush?”
I don’t have an answer for that. Not one that’ll make everyone happy. Him, me, Chasm, or Parrish. Because I intend on telling Parrish everything as soon as I get the chance. He deserves the full truth.
“How about as Kota?” I ask, and Maxx smiles softly, giving another nod.
When we approach the horde of reporters—it’s grown in size since this morning, so I’m guessing the extra fed activity is stirring them into a frenzy—I yank my blazer over my head and duck down.
Maxx blasts right through them, punches the gate code in, and up the driveway we go.
I don’t let out a sigh of relief until the garage door is closed safely behind us.
Once inside the house, I see what Maxx means. There are all sorts of people in here—including the two FBI agents. The dark-haired one is staring at me again which sort of freaks me the fuck out. I’ve been questioned before—on more than one occasion. The day after Parrish went missing and then again a few days later. I’m very clearly not a suspect but maybe I should be?
“You’re Dakota, right?” the woman asks, coming over to stand in front of me. She’s stunning, with long raven hair and a power suit that rivals only those that Tess wears on the regular.
“That’d be me,” I agree, glad that she’s calling me Dakota and not Mia. The last two times I was questioned, I was exclusively referred to by my birthname.
“I hear you’re attending a party tonight,” she says in that patronizing way that adults sometimes use with teenagers. I even heard Tess say something to the tune of ‘oh, they’re still just babies’ the other day. I get that we don’t have a lot of life experience and that our brains still have some growing to do, but Jesus Christ. Fastest way to piss a teenager off: call them a baby or talk down to them. Control them.
See how far that gets you.
“Yep,” I say, as Maxx tucks his hands into his pockets and waits patiently behind me.
“My name is Itsumi Takahashi, and I’ve been working on your brother’s case for the last few weeks.”
My brother. Sigh.
“That’s great,” I tell her honestly. But you have yet to solve it. Meaning Justin is better and cleverer than the FBI. How fun. I’d say my life was like a teen novel, where all the adults are idiots and somehow the teenagers run circles around them. But really, everyone is an idiot compared to Justin Prior. He’s the one running circles. Maxx, Chasm, and I are being led by the nose around the arena, a team of horses meant to be broken. “I really hope you find him soon.”
Itsumi smiles at me, but it’s a sharp smile, one that terrifies me a little.
“Do you think maybe you and I could have a talk sometime next weekend? After your finals are over, of course,” she says, and my blood goes cold. But what can I say but sure thing? “Just to go over that night one more time.”
My cheeks heat, and I get the strangest feeling that she knows. Not about Justin obviously, but like … the sex between me and Parrish.
“Okay,” I say, and she nods, her gaze slipping past me to Maxx. She offers him another smile but very quickly returns her attention to me.
“Great. I’ll be around. You’re welcome to just grab me whenever you have a moment.”
“I can do that,” I agree, making sure that the heart pin is facing directly toward her. I want Justin to know that the FBI wants to talk to me. See what he has to say about that. “I’m gonna go get ready now. We only have a few hours, so …”
I trail off and slip past her, Maxx following along behind me.
“What the fuck was that about?” he wonders as I open my bedroom door and pause at the sight of box mountain on my bed. I mean, there’s a lot of shit there. All of it looks fancy, too. If the boxes look like they cost a lot, what could be inside of them?
“No clue. But I don’t like it.” I drop my bag to the floor and step forward, lifting the lid on one of the boxes. A pair of Louboutin pumps in a bubblegum pink. I lift one up, turning it over to look at the signature red bottom sole.
On another day, in another place, with another admirer, I might actually enjoy coming home to find my bed piled with designer clothing. In this case, it just come across as creepy.
“They’ll look nice on you,” X offers, but I can tell that he, too, is disturbed.
Like, cool, you got me some red-bottoms. Could you also release my boyfriend from captivity and stop slicing up his pretty chest like a holiday roast? And if you’d stop threatening to kill him if I don’t sleep with other guys, that’d be appreciated, too.
I set the shoes aside, opening another box to find a white faux fur wrap with a diamond clasp—a real diamond clasp. I brush my fingers over it, frowning hard. I’m being dressed up like a doll.
Or a princess.
His payback princess.
I shudder all over.
The first week, he had me do petty things. The next week was all about destroying me emotionally. Next … I can barely allow myself to think about that.
Since I know Justin’s listening in on me and Maxx, I’m very careful about what I say and do. If I ditch the tech or the heart pin right now, he’ll be suspicious as fuck.
The next box is much smaller, and very, very pink. When I crack it open, I find a pink diamond tiara resting inside and frown heavily.
Oh.
Lovely.
I glance back at Maxx, and he returns my stare with a raised brow.
A tiara. I’m wearing a tiara to a corporate launch party. Fuck my life.
There are matching earrings in another box and elbow-length, pale pink gloves in the last.
I turn my head toward the closet. Justin said he was sending a dress, so … I move over to the closet and open the door. I’m assuming Delphine put all of these things in here, but I’m not sure. Anyway, whoever did stripped off the garment bag and folded it neatly on the pedestal in the center of the closet, the one that’s piled with my cheap costume jewelry from back home.
The dress itself is hanging up and, well, it’s gorgeous; I won’t lie about that.
My heart stutters a little when I see it, but it’s hard to get excited about something that I have no choice in wearing. I move toward it with Maxx trailing just behind me and reach out to touch the fine pale pink tulle of the skirt.
A strapless corset bodice with prominent boning and gauzy panels that match my skin tone rounds out the top, waterfalling into a cascade of as
ymmetrical tulle that froths like rapids in a churning stream as the skirt falls to about mid-calf.
There’s a note pinned to the skirt that I unhook and unfold as Maxx reads over my shoulder with me.
Do you love it? A custom-made Alexander McQueen gown, just for you. I can already imagine how beautiful you’ll look tonight, princess.
Cold sweats break out across my skin as I hand the note back to Maxx so he can reread it a few times. If there are any clues in that, I’m missing them.
“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs as he looks back up at the gown. “This is at least a fifteen-thousand-dollar dress. Maybe more.” I glance back at him in surprise, and he grins. “My sister might race dirt bikes professionally, but she gets dolled all the way up for events. She calls herself a Track Princess.” He crumples the note in his hand and slips it into his pocket. “I know more than I ever wanted to about designer dresses.”
“Dakota!” a voice calls out, and I jump at the sound of Tess’ rapid footsteps clicking across the floor. Maxx and I emerge from the closet just in time to see her step in through the open door in a pair of her own Louboutin pumps. Hers, however, are classic black. “I see you’ve found the gifts that your … Justin sent.” She grits her teeth when she says his name, eyes flicking to the pile on the bed. “He’s also, apparently, sent over a nail tech, a makeup artist, and a hair stylist?” She phrases that like a question and then adds, “at your request?”
You son of a bitch.
“Um, yeah. I just wanted to look nice for the party.”
I can smell an unspoken request from about a million miles away. If Justin didn’t appreciate me questioning his need to order my food at a restaurant, I can only imagine how he’d react if I rejected any of his ‘gifts’.
“I’ll send them up then,” Tess continues, her face a mask of begrudging acceptance. “Did you hear the news about Parrish?” she asks, abruptly switching the subject to something much more favorable.
“I did,” I reply, making myself smile through the nausea.
Payback Princess (Lost Daughter of a Serial Killer Book 2) Page 45
