I stifle a small smile. We might have opposing interests, but we’ve got similar styles of organization it seems.
“Let’s do it.”
“First off,” Maxx begins, using his trackpad to scroll on his laptop for a minute. “Did you know that the teacher Mr. Volli took over for was in a hiking accident?”
I did know that, actually. But I’d forgotten. I hadn’t made the connection.
“Holy shit, you’re right.”
Maxx gives me the guy’s name, and I do a quick search on him. The man is still in the hospital and hasn’t woken up yet. Apparently, he fell off a trail near a waterfall in Gold Bar and ended up in a coma.
“Does that sound like a coincidence to you? That guy was pushed.” Maxx turns the rest of the way around in the chair to stare at me. “Just like we were attacked on the trail.”
“By Mr. Fosser,” I start, mulling the information over. This is interesting, and very telling, but it doesn’t help much with the Parrish situation. Clearly, the man was targeted so that Mr. Volli could get the job at Whitehall. “I wonder if he pushed the teacher or if it was someone else?”
That night I was attacked in the woods, there were two men. Thinking about it now, I imagine one was Mr. Volli. Could the other have been Mr. Fosser?
Only … no. That’s not right. Mr. Fosser exuded a certain sense of perversion. I feel like I would’ve recognized him—even in the dark with a mask on. The first attacker had a calm, collected energy, like he had all the time in the world. If I think too hard about the way he chased me—the way he walked—after me, I get the chills. He was determined, focused, brimming with confidence.
Could that have been Justin Prior?
It’s a question that I’m going to get the answer to whether I like it or not.
Chasm comes over after school, even though Tess specifically banned him from the premises. That worries me.
“You’re going to get yourself into trouble,” I tell him as he pauses beside the nightstand, his eyes dropping to the sunflowers in the vase. The very, very dead sunflowers.
“You don’t have to keep these, you know,” he says, gathering the vase up and ignoring my previous statement. Maxx watches as Chas takes the flowers into the bathroom, dumps them in the trash, and proceeds to wash the vase out in the sink.
I don’t have to keep them? Is that what he thinks, that they’re still here out of some strange sense of obligation?
He comes back out, polishing the vase with a washcloth and setting it back on the nightstand before scooping the stray petals into his palm. His amber eyes lift up to my face, a frown etched across his perfect mouth.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice thick with anger. I hope like hell he didn’t do anything to get himself into trouble. We have about three weeks of school left; there’s no sense in Chas risking his grades or his social standing.
“Two broken fingers, a broken nose, a possible concussion …” I trail off as his fury climbs to new heights. I can see it simmering in the way he curls and uncurls his fingers, rolls his head on his neck, lets out an exasperated sigh.
“If Parrish were here, he would kill Lumen,” Chasm tells me without flinching. I’m not even sure how hyperbolic he’s actually being. “And you want me to let her walk away from this with zero consequences?”
“We only have three weeks of school left,” I tell him, setting my phone aside as he takes a seat on the end of my bed. Chasm looks at the wooden post nearest him, running his fingers up the length of it and touching the carved flowers near the center. My grandmother made this bed, so his appreciation of her work makes me happy.
Or, as happy as I could possibly be considering the extenuating circumstances.
“So?” Chas queries back, looking over at me with an inscrutable facial expression. “You want her to own the school next year, too? She’ll make your life a living hell. Little Sister, I get that you’re a nice person. Too fucking nice. She had her minions beat the shit out of you.”
“If you’re going to retaliate, don’t make it so obvious,” Maxx offers up, rising from the desk chair to come over and stand beside us. “You can’t just walk up to her and punch her lights out in the middle of campus.”
“Why not?” Chas asks dryly, shoving yellow and black hair from his forehead. “That’s exactly what she did to Dakota.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I know all the best places to deck a fucker without getting caught.”
“No.” I scoot closer to Chasm, reaching out to take one of his hands in mine. As soon as our skin makes contact, fire shoots through my veins. I know I’m not the only one that feels it, based on the way Chasm’s hand trembles in response. “There’s something going on with Lumen and Danyella.”
