“I’d rather not have this conversation. Give me everything you have from the math class, and I’ll work out a plan of attack.” I hold out my hand and focus my eyes on a speck of dust on the tabletop.
Ash raises an eyebrow and hands me the stack. Blaise is twitching in his chair, but neither of them try and make conversation. We sit in total silence until I’ve flicked through everything he’s given me. I glance up to see they’re having a conversation entirely with their eyebrows. I’m oddly impressed.
“Here. Do this page so I can see where you’re up to.” I slide the page across to Blaise, and he murmurs a quietsureunder his breath. I start to write out notes for him to study at night and to use during tests. I have to focus to keep my scrawling handwriting neat enough to be read by mere mortals.
Not that I think Blaise is mortal.
Or mere.
He gets straight to work. He’s quiet, subdued from his usual flirty manner, and I give myself a second to breathe. It’s hard to do, because I can feel Ash’s calculating eyes on me. I wonder how much Blaise told him while they were waiting for me to show. I’ve always arrived to the sessions at least ten minutes early, so I would think Ash would have made a smart comment about my tardiness.
Ash begins to tap his pen in his hand as he says, “You should have asked Blaise to pay you for your tutoring.He’sa millionaire and, someday, he’s going to be the sole recipient of a billion-dollar empire. You’re an orphan, Mounty, who has lost everything. There’s only a few weeks left of the school year. Charge him, say, a grand a week. That’s literallynothingto us.”
I pause long enough to glare at him, but he just waves me off. “I’m not being an arrogant asshole, I’m just stating facts. Avery dropped more cash on hair products this week than what I’m suggesting he pay you. It’s a business transaction. A legitimate one. You can replace all of your shit, and Blaise can stop moping around like a kicked fucking puppy because you’re being nice to him for no reason.”
Ash grunts as Blaise’s foot connects with his shin. I think about it for about three seconds. I could increase my bank balance by thousands of dollars for doing something I’ve already committed to. I’m not going to lie, it’s tempting. Then I think of something better. This is my moment to prove a point.
I set my pen down and fold my hands together, letting my face drop into a serene mask before I speak. “You’re going to be a man of business someday, Beaumont, and I’m here to help Blaise out with numbers. So let’s look at somereal worldfacts.” Ash tilts his head at me and motions me on. “I have a full ride scholarship that covers food, shelter, and clothing for thirty-six weeks of my year, which leaves me with sixteen weeks to have to financially provide for myself. I have a hundred grand in the bank. At my current rate of spending, by the time I graduate Hannaford and move on to college, I’ll still have more than seventy grand in the bank. I will get a scholarship for college, full ride just like this one because we all know I’m that good, so that money is going to keep sitting in the bank. When I start out in the career of my choice, I'm going to hit the ground running.”
I pause. Ash is staring at me, rubbing his chin absently, and so I continue. “I know that to you that amount of money may sound pathetic, but to me, and to most people, I’m set. Major, catastrophic disasters would have to happen for me to have to touch the money I’ve got. So I don’t. Want. Your. Fucking. Money.”
I pick up my pen, expecting the conversation to be over. Blaise certainly thinks it is. He’s frowning down at the numbers like he’s waiting for them to give up all their secrets. Ash snatches the pen out of my hand.
“Inheritance?” he says.
I shake my head.
“Gambling? Are you a secret poker savant?”
“Nope.”
“Shame. I could have used the pointers.” Ash lets out a little gasp and leans in. His torso is long enough that he easily covers the distance between us. “Did you steal it, Mounty?”
I smirk and lean in to him. Once my chest is pressed against the table and my lips brush his earlobe, I whisper, “I earned it from a dead man.”
I lean back and see that he’s staring down the front of my blouse, where the small amount of cleavage I have is pushing up lusciously.
“Why, Mounty, I didn’t think you were the type,” he drawls, and I don’t know if he means my chest or my money-making methods. There’s this little grin on his face that makes me want to scream. I think he enjoys the push-pull banter we slide into the moment we’re near each other. I have no idea how to flirt, but I think this might be it.
I open my mouth, unsure of what I’d even reply, when we hear a scream.
I jerk around in my seat to look toward the sound at the back of the stacks. Students start moving en masse, but the librarians are nowhere to be seen.
“Avery?” says Blaise urgently, and Ash replies, “Harley took her down to her ballet class.”
There’s another shriek and I’m up and out of my chair, pushing past students to find the source. I have a sinking feeling as I make it through the crowd, Ash and Blaise pushing through behind me, and I stop dead.
Joey is standing over another student.
A dead student.
Chapter 24
Joey’s chest is heaving.
There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his eyes are glassy, bouncing around the room like he can’t focus on anything. I spare him a second before I grab Ash’s arm and haul him over to the dead student. Joey begins to laugh. It’s an awful sound, too loud and hyper, and tears stream down his face as he clutches at his chest.
I’ve learned a lot of important, life-saving shit while in Mounts Bay, but I don’t know if there’s a damn thing I can do for this guy. He’s a freshman—I recognize him from my social studies class—with mousy brown hair and a dimpled chin that makes him look younger.
