He suppresses a small smile. “He arranged a marriage that upsets the girl I like, so yeah.”
LOCK
I wait for minutes after George falls asleep before I move from the bed. The pills I crushed into her soda took forever to work, far longer than last time. I hate to use them, hate to lose her to unconsciousness, but I need to be sure she doesn’t go wandering.
If they took longer to have an effect, they might also wear off more quickly. I need to move and enact my plan, then come back here. Innocence itself.
While I’m moving around the room, collecting everything I need, I think of George’s love for her father. It’s unthinkable to me she still has such a connection to a man who’s treated her so badly. Who’s simply a bad person, regardless of whether he started out that way.
Once upon a time, telling her the worst things about myself would have been unthinkable. An impossibility. Tonight is the first time that I wonder if she would mind as much as I tell myself she would.
I wonder if, even after hearing from the darkest part of my soul, she would stay.
The buzz as I load my pockets has nothing to do with the task in front of me. It’s all to do with the girl I’m leaving alone in my room. The obsession I now want to own.
My elaborate web of plans is no longer a dare to see if I can, I need it to work. I want her here, near me, under the same roof. Somewhere safe where I can check on her, catch up with her, share our secrets without a time limit.
I want to always be the man who comes to her rescue. The first person she thinks to call.
She’s challenging me.
She’s changing me.
I want to be fucking worth it.
When I’m out the door, I pocket my key and move to the common room before I check my phone. It’s just gone eleven so there’s no one else in there.
A message from Patrick, complaining about the state I left his man. Like a few broken fingers matter in the greater scheme of things. I send him a tip to pass on to Adnan even though it grates.
Better that than have Patrick poke him too hard about what I needed him for.
Another message is from Alastair, my fixit guy. He’s at a party and sent a picture showing him and Carrod together. The time stamp on it is ten forty-seven, and the venue is over an hour’s drive away.
Plenty of time, even if they left the moment the snap was sent.
Carrod’s room is one floor up and on the opposite side corridor to mine. I don’t like to think of George boarding that far away from me—I’d much prefer her take the cell next to mine—but even the least suspicious mind might have a twinge if my next-door neighbour was the one to be evicted just when George desperately needed to move in.
Besides, the pleasure of hitting Carrod again, even anonymously, is sweet.
No one’s in the hallway to see me but I keep up a charade that I’m visiting in case anyone happens along.
“Knock, knock,” I call out, trying the handle, then quickly inserting the copy of the key I had a minion grab from the main office, returning before anyone noticed it was missing. Inside, I pause for a second to get my bearings, then set to work.
The pills I bought from the maid are in a baggie, minus thehalf dozen I’ve reserved for personal use. I used gloves when prepping and pull them on again before handling it.
Kingswood probably won’t go to the trouble of examining the plastic surface for fingerprints but if Carrod’s dad kicks up enough, they might. Better to be safe than sorry.
There’s a bookshelf on the wall opposite his bed. I try out a few positions, opting to put the bag behind a textbook, leaving it hanging slightly over the lip. Just enough to make anyone acting on an anonymous tip suspicious enough to pull it all the way out.
I linger long enough to rifle through the rest of his belongings. Nothing much of interest but I take out a Swiss Army knife hidden beneath his pillow and pull out the blade. Tempting but I put it back where I found it, staring at the photos pinned to his wall next.
Holiday snaps. Family pictures where fake grins can’t hide the boredom lurking in their eyes.
Like almost every other family in the school, they look disgustingly wealthy. Yet they still raised a boy who thinks it’s okay to mock people.
I hope they enjoy having him home again.
Job done, I lock the door behind me and saunter along the corridors to the common room again.
