I paused, taken aback. What other reason could there be to lie for a group of unscrupulous bastards like them? What would motivate someone to do such a thing, if not fear? The answer was simple, even if I didn’t want to believe it. Power.
‘They promised you something,’ I realised. ‘But… if this is about money, then it’s even more straightforward. It doesn’t matter how much they offered you, you can’t accept it. Nothing in the world is worth selling your soul for.’
Jess gave a shout of laughter that made me jump, but in seconds my confusion had turned to rage. ‘It’s not funny! My friend was badly injured. He’s in a coma, and we don’t know if he’s ever going to wake up. We can’t let them get away with this.’
Jess ran a hand through his ash-blond, faintly greasy hair, then he drew up one leg and rested his chin on his knee. ‘The driver’s already been prosecuted. He’s dead–that’s about as punished as it gets, isn’t it? Surely that’s enough for you, love?’
‘Don’t call me that,’ I snapped, before forcing myself to take another deep breath. ‘And no, it’s not. For one thing, I know the driver of the second car involved in the race is still around. No idea if it was Ashton Griffin himself or one of his friends.’Just don’t let it be Blake, a voice whispered in my mind, and again I hated myself for it. ‘Not that it matters–they’re all in it together,’ I reminded us both firmly. ‘And I want them held to account.’
Jess regarded me in silence. The corners of his mouth twitched, and part of me was sure he was suppressing another laugh. Finally, he put his leg back down and leant forward. As he did so, the neck of his moss-green jumper slipped down to reveal his collarbone. On it was a tiny, strangely angular freckle. It took a moment to sink in, because I really hadn’t seen it coming. Then the sweat broke out on the back of my neck, and I stepped back. There was a roaring in my ears–that freckle changed everything. Because it wasn’t a freckle at all. It wasn’t a birthmark or a pigment disorder, and it wasn’t a mark left by a pen. It was a tattoo.
Dumbfounded, I looked back at Jess’s face. ‘That’s what they promised you? They’d let you join them?’
He tugged at his collar before jumping down from the wall. His eyes held nothing but irritation. I knew now this conversation was futile. He’d already picked his side. Still, I couldn’t just give up.
He tried to push past me, but I blocked his path. ‘You can’t really want that–those people are sick. They only ever bring bad luck, to the people around them and each other. Trust me.’
I grabbed his arm, and instantly recoiled. Even through the fabric, his skin was so hot it felt like touching a stove. He must have a fever. That would also explain the violet circles under his eyes and the strangely murky look in them. Then there was the smell coming off him, which settled unpleasantly in the pit of my stomach. Underneath the sharp scent of his aftershave lay something musty, almost… rotten.
I made to pull back, but this time he grabbed my arm and bent over me, so close that his forehead nearly grazed mine. ‘You trustme,’ he hissed into my ear. ‘Your curiosity is your greatest enemy, Anna Karenina.’
His breath was warm on my skin, but everything inside me froze to ice. I hadn’t thought I’d ever hear those two words spoken to me again. Not when the only person who had ever called me that was dead.
I blinked, but there was no sense to be made of it. ‘Wh…what?’
Jess grinned shallowly and let go. I could still feel his fingers burning into my arm, and the hazy heat he radiated. ‘You heard me. Better stop wasting your time. Sometimes you’ve got less of it than you think.’
* * *
The tea was lukewarm by now, but I kept stirring the silver spoon. Speculoos tea: Zoe loved the taste, but I found it too sweet and only drank it because I missed her. Suddenly I was missing everything I’d taken for granted only a few months ago. I’d never spent much time in the common room, but I preferredsitting in one of the red armchairs and looking at the gilt-framed pictures than staring at the wall in my room, wondering what Zoe was doing behind it. From my seat by the window, I could see directly into the court. The ivy-covered walls, the dark wooden doors, the grass that looked golden in the summer light and silver in the winter. My little cosmos, my home, where for the first time I felt utterly alone.
As the door opened and I saw who walked into the room, my tea went down the wrong way, and I started coughing. Nothing about this picture made sense, from the Trinity College crest emblazoned on the scarf he wore, at odds with Trinity Hall’s coat of arms on the wall behind him, to the smile that broadened on his lips when he caught sight of me. I took my feet off the seat cushion and set them flat on the ground next to my shoes. Ashton’s amused gaze lingered over the pumpkins embroidered onto the grey fabric. I lifted my chin defiantly. The socks were a gift from Zoe, and I loved them for that reason alone–I refused to be embarrassed. Especially in front of him.
‘Zoe’s probably upstairs,’ I informed him coolly.
He sat down on the chair across from me. ‘Actually, it’s you I wanted to see. I spotted you through the window.’
‘Should I be alerting the authorities?’
‘Don’t be silly.’ He chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. Our common room was a bit chaotic, the red fabric clashing with the orange-tinted paint on the wall and the blue carpet. It was almost ridiculous how immaculate Ashton still managed to look even in this environment. ‘I’d like to speak to you in private. Do you mind if we go to your room?’ he continued affably. Too affably–and I didn’t buy a word of it.
‘No,’ I replied in the same tone, layering on a beaming smile. ‘I’m definitely not going anywhere with you where no one else can see us.’
Ashton was still smiling, but I saw his eyes narrow. Patience was not his strong suit. It might have been the only thing we had in common. ‘Fine, then just listen to me for a minute, will you. I wasn’t very pleasant last time we spoke, I realise that. Which is why I’ve come: to ask if we can put all that behind us and just get along.’
‘And why exactly would you want that? You hate me.’
‘Hate is a very strong word. We barely know each other, and I think that’s because we’ve never really had the chance. Which is a terrible shame, given how close Zoe and I are these days.’
Everything he said was true, rationally speaking, but coming out of his mouth it sounded like a lie. Ashton was a selfish bastard. For weeks now he hadn’t even bothered to hide how much he disliked me, or how little he really cared about Zoe. The mere mention of her name triggered a fresh wave of fury. ‘You’re not good for her.’
Ashton sighed. ‘You see, this is what I mean. You’re not even giving me a chance to show you you’re wrong.’ He rested his elbows on his thighs, palms innocently upturned. I was still expecting him to pull a knife at any moment. ‘I know you think she’s down in the dumps right now, and that it’s because of me, but has it ever occurred to you that I’m just trying to help? To be there for her, especially now that her best friend isn’t?’
Was he serious? Was he really trying to manipulate me in such a stupidly obvious way? It wasn’t my fault that Zoe wouldn’t let me in. It washis. ‘I’m always there for her. I’d do anything for her.’
‘Then prove it, and give me a chance. Almost everything you think you know about me and my friends is bullshit.’ He glanced over his shoulder at two students on their laptops, neither of whom paid us any attention. Still, he lowered his voice. ‘We’re not some weird conspiracy of serial killers. We’re just students. So maybe we’re a little imprudent every now and then–we make mistakes, like everybody else. We’re not perfect, but we’re not monsters.’
I flinched, remembering the last time I’d used that word. I went cold, and I wrapped the knitted cardigan more closely around my chest. ‘Blake is. I know what he’s done.’
