Yeah, okay, so I wasn’t supposed to do that, and if the Warwicks found out, they won’t be happy, but I couldn’t fucken help myself. Those long dark eyelashes that frame her pretty green eyes, freckles across her nose and cheeks, and pouty,plump lips. But the sexiest part was her dark, dangerous side; perhaps there was a goth hidden underneath the snarling flames that would slice skin and paint her lips black.
The fish hooks to gauge out an eye, the wordsDie Fuckercut into my door, and I was keen to see what else she had up her sleeve. Most men would think she was unhinged, but for me, it got me hard. I guess you can say, I had a sadistic sense of humor that had to be kept in check, or else I could go too far. That was why the boys asked me to live in Morgana to haunt her, but it didn’t cross my mind that she might haunt me.
The first image in the gallery on my phone was the pic I took of theDie Fucker. Perhaps when all of this was over, I could saw out that part of the door, frame it, and take it home to Hartford as a memento to always remember her by.
When we’re done with Maxwell Boelyn’s daughter, we’ll never see her again, or more accurately, she’d never want to see us again. So I needed to take advantage of the time I had with her.
As I walked down the corridor on the second floor of the business school, muffled laughter bled from the class that I should be in. The first day of school was always relaxed as tutors handed out the terms’ curriculum and recommended reading.
Weirdly, I felt jealous that I wasn’t in there. All those brainwashed robots laughing along to some dumb joke were worth laughing at, not with. But I wanted to be in there to be close to Adina. I wanted to watch her interaction with other students, especially students who were strangers to her. I wanted to see how she held her pen and what her writing was like. Watch her hand smooth down pages as those hands, long eyelashes flick over moving green eyes.
I’d sit right behind her and watch her every move, making her feel uneasy so she’d be forced to look back. Yes, she was my little project, and even though I initially resented the Warwicks forgiving me this task, after spending some time with her, I’d thank them for it.
The class was finished for another thirty minutes, and I didn’t have the patience to wait in the halls, so I left for Scholars to have a Red Bull and breakfast muffin.
As I walked down the stairs, I messaged Sick:Cops didn’t ask about my record. Only took 20 mins.
He didn’t reply until I arrived at the café with:Good. Did u mention Ez?
Me: No.
Sick: If the cops are going alphabetical order, then the Boleyn girl will be soon.
Me: Correct.
Sick: Make sure she says nothing.
Me: Done.
23
Ignoring the message from Marina, our mother, reminding me for the hundredth time that the Charity Ball was next month of September and I was required to attend. She worded it so it seemed I had no choice, but I did. I could not go, but I felt I was obliged to. Fuck it.
Even when I told her there was a criminal investigation on campus and I might receive permission to leave, she didn’t see that as a feasible excuse. Like my father, my mother wasn’t used to the word no.
Cole’s elbow jabbed me in the ribs to grab my attention as we waited for the tutor to start in our sports science class. Henodded toward a pretty brunette who smiled as soon as we locked eyes, as she found a seat in front of us, then turned back confidently.
“Hi, I’m Melrose,” she said, holding out her hand for me to shake. Confident girl who came straight over, and I felt like I should know who she was, at least both she and Cole expected me to know. “Just call me Rose or Mel. Either one.”
“Coach’s daughter,” Cole filled me in.
“Hey,” I replied, taking her hand and eyeing her up because she suddenly became more interesting. “Nic.”
“Yeah, I know,” she replied, then the tutor started, and she turned her back.
I cocked my eyebrows. “Was she transferred here for senior year?”
He nodded, then mouthed, “Daddy divorced.”
There was more to the story, obviously, but I didn’t care enough to ask. However, she could be a good fit for my date for the fucking charity ball. She was pretty and tidy enough, and more importantly, she was of low status; the daughter of a football coach would get my mother’s disapproval.
Anyway, the ball was six weeks away, so I didn’t need to worry about that yet, although taking the train all the way back to Morrisville, which was the drop-off point, then driving another four hours to Hartford just for one night of pretentious glitter and glam wasn’t worth it.
“Sensitive subject,” Cole mouthed. “Alimony.” He then leaned forward and tapped the girl on her shoulder, “Mel…Rose. I’m Cole, pleased to meet you.”
They shook hands, but it was me she was looking at, and Cole noticed as soon as her back was turned, he jabbed me in the ribs again with his elbow, then made the fucking motion with his fingers. “She’s all yours.”
I guess. I wasn’t really into her, though, but I’d manage to fuck her. Mindless fucking was easy, actually; having a committed relationship was hard and avoidable, especially in football season. Unlike my teammates, I preferred to remain single for the entire season as I couldn’t deal with the stress of women on my back.
