I exhaled a sigh, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him closer to my side. His head snapped up, eyes scanning the surroundings for threats before the realisation dawned on him.
“Oh, shit!” he cussed, shoulders relaxing. “Thanks.”
I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, I said I can’t shake off the idea of being tracked somehow.” My expression hardened as I spottedMr. James Donald sliding into the classroom ahead–the same class I was currently heading. Last week I avoided the Tuesday class. Today, I couldn’t do the same. I couldn’t keep running at the expense of my studies.
“Well, it’s not your phone. I already checked.” Kenzo finally pocketed his device as we reached the classroom. “We should look into something else. Something very obvious.”
The classroom was already packed, and the usual pre-lesson chatter was reduced to murmurs with Mr. Donald already at the front of the class.
“Settle down, class.” His voice sliced through the air as Kenzo and I took our seats.
“So what do you think could have a tracker other than my phone?” I asked, my voice low as I subtly turned my head.
“Earrings,” he murmured. “But he has never given you those, has he?”
I shook my head.
“So that leaves us with one more option…”
“And that is…?”
Kenzo leaned back, face blank. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“Well, what is it?” I glared at him, my lips pressed into a thin line.
He rolled his eyes, then reached his hand beneath his collar and pulled out his gold chain. “Got something like this, perhaps?”
My brows knitted, and two heartbeats later, my eyes widened. My hand flew to my neck, grabbing the pendant resting on my chest. I turned it over in my fingers, watching the emerald catch the light so beautifully.
How did I not figure this out sooner? He gave this to me, so randomly and without a reason. Of course, only him would be capable of such a thing. Only he could go this far to prove apoint. So giving me the necklace wasn’t his attempt at a romantic gesture but to keep me on a leash?
“I feel so dumb for not connecting the dots sooner,” I whispered, my gaze burning into the pendant, waiting for the tracker to make itself visible somehow.
“Any problem, Beth Fraser?” Mr. Donald’s voice pierced through my thoughts.
The way he said my name made my stomach churn. “No, Mr. Donald.” I shook my head.
My gaze returned to the necklace. I had seen it in movies–trackers being put in jewelry and even hairpins. If there was truly a tracker in my necklace, it wouldn’t be too surprising.
But why did he put a tracker on me? Shouldn’t this be illegal in some big book of law?
“Fraser?!” Mr. Donald’s voice cracked like a whip, his sinister undertone unmistakable. Startled, I glanced around to find that the entire class was staring at me.
“Um, yes?”
“You don’t seem very present,” he said, a smirk ghosting his lips. “Is my class too boring for you?”
“No.”
“Should we wipe the board and return to Psychopathy instead?” he gestured toward the board.
My eyes followed, landing on the topic scrawled across the whiteboard.Sleep and Dreams.
“What?” I whispered.
“I don’t know, I guess I liked how interested you were last week when we taught psychopathy.” His smirk grew, mean and deceptive. “Almost like it spoke to you. Maybe you really liked the topic. Should we revisit it? Same case study, though.”
What the hell?
