They all howl with laughter, and even Avery manages a smug look in my direction. I turn back to the front of the class and ignore the comments all around me as the other students snicker and join in. Only Lauren, who’s still sitting as far away from me as she can to not be targeted by association, is silent.
I decide on the spot that I’m going to burn my Vanth Falling t-shirt and sleep in the nude from now on. I will never listen to his beautiful voice again. I’d rather die than admire this guy anymore.
After class, I go to the library and email in all my classwork for the week, my obsessive need to be ahead working in my favor once again. I tell each of my teachers I’m feeling unwell and will not be able to go to any classes in the foreseeable future. Then I go to the dining hall and grab a box of protein bars.
I don’t leave my room for a week.
Chapter 13
After my self-imposed sabbatical from my classes, I make an important decision: I’m going to unleash the Wolf on these wealthy assholes and show them some real life consequences for their terrible behavior. Things the rest of us had to learn as children, things I had learn the hardest way imaginable.
Sneaking around the dorms during classes is not the easiest thing to do. Technically, all the guys who live here should be in classes but there’s the chance someone else is playing hooky or genuinely sick and hanging around. What I'm about to do cannot have any witnesses, so I’m extra cautious and I take my time.
The ballet flats I'm wearing are the softest soles I could find in shoes, and I’ve worn them enough to know exactly how to position my feet to go unnoticed. They are silent on the old oak floorboards. My black tights and tee are closely fitted and don't rustle either. There's surgical gloves on my hands from my first-aid kit, and my hair is swept under my biggest knit cap. I’ve become the living shadow I’ve had to be hundreds of times before.
I remember the path to Joey’s room, and I slip through the unlocked door easily. This will teach him to lock the damn thing.
I wait until I'm sure he's not here, and then I begin the slow and careful process of checking for security cameras. There's no obvious lenses, but I'm sure he’s more imaginative than that. The living areas and the bathroom are clear, but I find a small camera that faces the bed.
Typical. Fucking. Rapist.
Collecting trophies is the usual predator MO, but I’m still pissed to see it. Did he still have the footage of him trying to force himself on me? Was he planning on sharing around the video of the assault as proof he’d won the bet? He had told me that nudes were so common at this school that no one really cared about them, but what about sex tapes? Would the other students care about seeing a rape, or would someone be willing to report Joey? I already knew the answer to that.
I swipe it, tucking it into my bra. I'm sure I'll find something abhorrent on it that will come in handy later, but I'm here for one thing.
His stash.
I walk back to the front door and start a meticulous search for his drugs. He’s certainly not shy about all of the contraband in his room. There's alcohol everywhere, whiskey and rum mostly, and there's even glasses half-full still in the sink, like he was interrupted before classes this morning. I wonder if he's ever truly sober. He must be a high-functioning addict to be getting away with it. Hiding the scent alone is tricky, and to sit tests while buzzed must be an experience. I’ve never smelled it on his breath, but there’s ways around that.
The bathroom turns up dozens of bottles of prescription medications. I snap photos of all the labels in case there's anything of interest there. But still no drugs. They have to be here somewhere. I’m getting antsy and frustrated at how long it’s taking to find something worth finding. I should have hours before Joey is due back, but he doesn’t come across as someone who cares about the rules at Hannaford. I begin to pace the rooms as I think.
On my third trip around the living room, I finally hear it.
There's a loose floorboard in the sitting area in front of the luxurious leather couch. I drop down to my hands and knees to run my fingers along the edges of the wooden plank. The gap is razor-fine, just barely registering on my fingertips, but it’s there. I have to use a knife from the kitchen to prize it open, but when it does, I could crow with happiness.
Inside a small recess there's a tiny box, no bigger than the palm of my hand but a little longer. I open it carefully and find three bags of coke, a fake ID, and a stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills. I flick through the cash and make a quick estimate of ten grand. Pocket change to this guy, but enough to buy a lot of drugs for one person. I take a photo of the ID to check it later. I try not to touch the bags at all, but as I move the box, I hear the tinkling sort of rustle of something else sliding around. I use the flashlight on my phone to look for the culprit.
There's a small, heart-shaped locket. It's obviously pricey, I'd guess the stones on the front are real diamonds, but it's nothing special when you consider the Beaumonts are billionaires. My fingers catch on the raised edges of the back, and I flip it over. There’s a delicate, tiny inscription on the back.
You before my blood,
My soul, my life,
My heart. Iris Arbour.
Arbour. Joey has taken this from Harley, probably earlier in the year when Avery was in damage control and Ash told her to let them fight it out. I stare at the words. They are lover’s words, something private and sacred. I would guess that Iris was his mother. Had she died, and this was something he has left to remember her? Joey is the kind of heartless psychopath to enjoy taking something of that sort of value.
I slip the necklace around my neck. I don’t have any pockets, and I’m afraid I won’t feel it if it slips out of my bra. The metal feels cold against my skin.
I slip the box back into the gap and take photos of the placement. As I slip out of the room and head back to my room, the necklace swings against the hollow of my neck in an unfamiliar way. It feels like a win against Joey already.
* * *
When I arrive at the second-period class I share with Harley, he frowns at me as he moves his books from my desk. I know I’m radiating my smugness out for everyone to see. I’m using it as my armor for the day, so I don’t feel any of the barbs being thrown at me. I’ve already had two teachers pulls me aside and offer counseling because of the 911 call. The students are less kind about it. I’ve had to watch a couple of juniors do a dramatic reenactment in the dining hall over my early breakfast. They both looked at me, baiting me to hit them and risk another run-in with the principal, but the Wolf doesn’t make rash decisions, and today I am the Wolf. I just watched them with a blank face and then gave them a slow, deeply ironic clap that echoed through the dining hall. Their bravado quickly dried up, and I got to watch them gulp and run away.
“Where were you this morning?” Harley says as he gives me a sidelong look. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, but I don’t give him any extra attention. My mind is on bigger things today. “Are you still in a bloodthirsty rage, or have you mellowed enough to talk to me?”
“I have nothing to say to you or your little friends,” I reply, and then I tune him out completely. He gives up trying pretty quickly.
