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It’s not a question, he heard from someone, but it meant nothing then.
His fingertips bite into my skin a little harder. “He won’t suspect you, will he?”
I shake my head no. “And you’ll be there before anything bad happens.”
His mouth lowers to mine, and he kisses me, punishing me for the idea with a gentle nip to my bottom lip. “You’ve got this, Tink. Tell us what to do.”
I nod, but on the inside, my gut twists with worry.
I know I’m the only one of us who can do this. He’ll see Victoria coming from a mile away, Raven, too, not that she’s able to right now anyway.
The risk of me doing this is high, though, but like I said, Royce will be right there, and knowing that should keep my pulse in check, keep my blood flow stable, my sight strong.
It’ll be fine.
Yeah. It’ll be fine.
I repeat that line for the next several hours and then before I know it, I’m walking into Brayshaw High.
Deep freaking breath... and exhale.
I go to text Royce one more time, but before I can even get a single word typed out, one comes through from him.Royce: I’m watching. Go.I look up into the right-hand corner, where Mac told me the camera would be, and give a tight smile. My hands begin to sweat, so I slide my phone in my back pocket, and wipe my palms on my jean shorts as I step into the main hall.
The school bell rang fifteen minutes ago, and Mac said Coach Von is still inside his room. So, with my head held high and my backpack over my shoulder, I step up to his classroom door, knocking lightly with my knuckle.
His head pops up instantly, and he grins wide as he stands from his seat. “Brielle, hi. I missed you in class today.”
I grip the strap of my bag tight as he comes closer. “I have a note.”
He nods. “It’s okay, I trust you.”
Keep smiling.
“I have some free time today, if you could use any help.”
He eyes me a moment, and then a slow smile forms on his lips. He’s across from me quicker than expected, his answer a low, chilling murmur, “Always.”
Pressure falls on my chest, but I breathe through it.
Royce is right here. He’s watching.
He pulls the door free of its stop lock, and motions for me to enter. “Please, come in.”
His hand begins to lower on my shoulder, so I quickly slip by him and into the room.
No matter how hard I try and convince myself to calm, my brain doesn’t hear it.
I’ve just locked myself alone in a room with a man I don’t know.
Society tells me I should be safe in his presence, that he’s an educator, a superior, but the world around me warns there’s no room for blind trust.
The man before me is capable of more than anyone would have guessed, and I’m here to expose him of this.
I’m the bait.
I pull my phone from my back pocket, clutching it in my palm just in case, but it’s gently tugged from my hand in the same second. I whip around. “Mr.—”
“Sorry, no phones out during correcting. It could distract you,” he cuts me off, steps past me, and sets it on the far side of his desk.
I want to argue that it won’t, but I don’t want to mess this up. Everyone is depending on me, and Taylor deserves to understand what happened to her, Enoch too, for that matter.
“And please.” He turns to me. “Call me Coach.” He grins, his hand slipping inside the drawer of his desk. “All my favorite students do, and all my favorite students also... get one of these.” He holds out a perfectly wrapped square with a far too eager smile.
“What is it?”
“A treat.” He smiles. “All girls love chocolate, right?”
When I hesitate, he holds it out farther. “Come on, no one has ever passed on a treat.”
That’s it.
The treat.
If I don’t accept, he might grow suspicious. If I don’t take it, this entire thing is a waste.
I reach out, and he places it in my palm.
“Go ahead, try some. I’ll get those papers for you, okay?” He nods.
I smile, setting my bag down and trail him toward the back of the glass. He steps into a corner storage room and I quickly tear the plastic wrapping open and break off a small chunk. With nowhere else to put it, I shove it into my front pocket, and when he turns back, act as if I pull it from my lips.
As he comes back, he rolls his sleeves with a smirk, his hands completely empty. Whatever he did back there just now, it had nothing to do with grabbing papers.
“You should sit down, Brielle. Get comfortable.” Just like that, his smile is gone, his eyes sharp... and roaming over my body.
