If Mr. Volli—does the dude even have a first name?—were the real Justin Prior, Tess would know just by looking at him. There’s an easy way to confirm this part of the story.
I fling myself out of bed, scrambling to get to my Tess-phone where it’s seated on the mini-tripod atop my dresser. A quick glance at the footage shows nothing unusual other than me thrashing around like a crazy person in my sleep.
I’m still yawning and blinking sleep from my eyes as I head down the stairs, searching for Tess. I find her sitting at the kitchen table, staring at her phone screen. There’s no easy or natural way to go about this, so I just dive in.
“Good morning,” I say softly, doing my best to pretend that she didn’t have a drunken meltdown on me and Chasm last night.
Tess lifts her head up from the screen, but you’d never know by looking at her that she lost her shit just twelve hours prior to this moment. Her makeup is flawless, hair coiffed, red power suit in place. She is completely and utterly terrifying.
“Can I show you something?” I ask, making sure the Whitehall Preparatory Academy webpage is still open on my phone. Mr. Volli’s staff photo is pulled up, just this adorable image of him smiling and wearing a gold and burgundy bowtie with his thick-rimmed glasses and easy demeanor. Apparently, his first name is Amin.
What a load of shit.
He shot a rapist to death the other day and then forced two of his students to blow holes in the guy’s corpse. He is far from the innocent bookworm that he looks, even if he is refined and well-spoken and likes to quote poetry.
I flip the phone around before Tess can answer. She looks at the photo with absolutely zero recognition in her face before lifting her dark eyes to me.
“Dakota, I’m tired, and I’m upset with you. Would you care to explain why you’re flashing your phone in my face this early in the morning?”
Whelp.
There goes that.
Despite my revelation last night, and Tess’ breakdown, it’s clear that her self-defense mechanisms are still locked firmly in place. She isn’t going to give in that easily, now is she?
Oh, and also.
I was right. I was fucking right.
Amin Volli … is not Justin Prior.
“Just … never mind,” I murmur, turning the phone off as Tess goes back to whatever it is that she’s working on. So much for thinking we’d broken through some sort of emotional wall last night. She either doesn’t remember what happened last night or doesn’t put as much stock in it as I did.
Also, Tess hasn’t mentioned any arson charges which means that Danyella hasn’t told anyone about the fire. Yet. She hasn’t told anyone yet. But she could.
I head upstairs, letting myself mull that over.
Somehow, I get the idea that she isn’t going to. Whether it’s because she cares about me or some other reason, I don’t know. Getting me locked up wouldn’t exactly suit the Slayer’s plans, now would it? Maybe he knows something that I don’t about Danyella Schaeffer and Lumen Hearst.
“Good morning,” Maxx says, catching me in the upstairs hallway. It’s weird, seeing him standing in the doorway to Parrish’s bedroom. I pause beside him, thankful that he wears a shirt at least some of the time, unlike Chasm and most especially Parrish. The guy is like, allergic to wearing clothes.
“Good morning,” I reply, trying not to let this be weird. But it is. It’s weird. Now Maxx knows and there are three of us in this terrifying loop. “Are you going back to Oregon then?”
He lifts a dark a brow at me.
“Why would I go back to Oregon?” he asks, a small thorn of hurt in his voice.
“I guess I just thought since you know the search parties are bullshit …” I trail off and Maxx sighs, resting a forearm against the doorjamb.
“Kota, do you really think I’d leave after learning what’s actually going on? It’s more important than ever for me to be here. Whatever you need from me, just ask. Rides. Money. Lies.” He licks his lush mouth, and I find myself feeling supremely uncomfortable all over again.
I want to talk to Maxine so badly that it hurts. I hate that this crap is keeping her boyfriend here with me, instead of in Oregon with her where he belongs. And I hate that I’m attracted to him even though I don’t want to be, even though I love Parrish, and I’m crushing on Chasm, and I would never betray my sister like that.
“So you’re not going to tell anyone?” I clarify for the hundredth time, glancing down the hall to make sure there’s no sign of Kimber or Ben, Tess or Paul. Luckily, we’re at the very end, past the staircase, with a straight view from one end of the upstairs to the other. It wouldn’t be easy to sneak up on us.
