Page 33 of Hell House
“And Envy?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t fail me.”
I walk, setting a brisk pace through the woods. The headmaster’s house sits directly above the cliffs on the far side of campus. More than one person has jumped from that very area, so they decided to have a teacher in residence to dismay anyone from making that decision. So far as I know, it’s worked.
I shove my hands in my pockets, listening to the sounds around me, remembering my father’s instruction. His number one rule was to always be aware of my surroundings. He’d go so far as to create different scenarios to catch me off guard. Honing my skills.
While other kids were playing with toys, I was learning how to assemble a computer and take it apart again. With my father’s business being only somewhat legitimate, being targeted was a constant possibility- even all the way out here on this island. He’d drilled into my head that you never let your guard down. The moment that you do? Death. Or worse. He’d shown me the letters he’d received on what someone would do to my mother and I if he didn’t comply with their demands. Those people never lasted long. My father’s reach was too wide.
“Information is power, Emmet.” My father would frequently say, as we sat side by side building his latest piece of tech. His tattooed covered arms hunched over the tiny wires. “And how do we get that information?”
“By listening?”
“That’s right.”
So, I learned to listen, blending into the background. I became the king of observation, learning what made people tick, what secrets they were holding onto behind their easy smiles and bright laughter. The more I watched, the more I learned. I became the ultimate chameleon gathering secrets that could blow up an entire life if I so chose.
All of that now prepared me for what I had to do now. Who I had to become to get what I wanted?
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Skye
“Okay so you need to crack the egg into this bowl.” I raise the egg, bringing it down on the edge of the bowl like Graham showed me, only I end up smashing it, the pieces crumbling in a wet gooey mess on my hand.
“Dio mio. How have you never cracked eggs before?” Graham asks, laughing so hard his dimples pierce into his cheeks.
“I know, I’m hopeless.” I say, matching his laughter. He grabs me by my forearms and drags me over to the sink.
“Nah, I’ve seen worse.” He says turning on the sink and sticking my hands under the water.
I wash the egg goo off of my fingers, making sure to pick off the tiny white shell pieces that are stuck in the slime.
Once my hands are dry, Graham hands me another egg. “Try again.”
“Seriously? You’re going to trust me with this thing?”
He leans back on the counter, arms crossed over his chest. His dimples on full display. Damn his cuteness.
“I trust you came here to help me make some food. So help.”
I let out a sigh of frustration before squaring my shoulders in determination. “Okay. I’ve got this.”
I take a breath, then swing my hand down fast, this time the egg cracks right in two.
“Oh my god! I did it.”
Graham comes up from behind me, placing his hands on mine.
“Now, you pull it apart, like this.” I’m trying to pay attention to his words, but all I can think about is how his body is pressed against my back, his hands on mine. I manage to follow his movements breaking the egg yolk into the bowl.
“What are you two making in here?” A scraggly bearded guy asks as he lazily scratches at his stomach. If rolled out of bed was a look, he nailed it.
Graham backs away from me, washing his hands off.
“We’re making a cake for later, Sloan.”
