Page 13 of Cruel Games

Even though Billy provided a roof over my head, I considered him more of a tyrant than a father figure. It didn’t matter that Mother always told me that a real father provided for his children.

Real fathers didn’t scare the piss out of them with sick threats while their mothers drank themselves into a stupor with gin and tonic.

We stopped at a white door, and Mrs. Campbell placed a key in the lock. She turned to me, her eyes shimmering with curiosity. I huffed out a breath. She wanted me to answer her question.

“They’re in London, too,” I said.

Her face went slack. She was about to ask something, probably a more specific question about my parents, but I turned the key, pulled down the handle, and swung the door open.

“Thanks so much for your help, Mrs. Campbell. What time is breakfast?”

Her brows drew together, and her mouth tightened with the look of someone who had been outsmarted. “Seven. The kitchen stops serving at eight-thirty.”

“See you at half-past eight!” I stepped into the room and shut the door.

With a noisy huff, she walked away. I leaned against the wall and blew out a breath.

It wasn’t like I was ashamed of my roots — scratch that. I hated having the last name Hancock. Everyone in Richley knew it belonged to Billy, the gangster who was imprisoned for the largest cocaine haul in the history of the borough.

If I played things right, Templar Academy could be a fresh start. A place where I could focus on my dreams of setting up my own dress label and leave behind a world of crime.

I turned around and groped for a light switch. I found a dimmer instead. After twisting on the lights, they illuminated a circular room decorated in ivory and silver furnishings. A double bed took pride of place with a tall, quilted headboard.

My mouth dropped open. The room was spectacular. I turned around to find a large white desk settled between two tall windows that offered a view of a landscaped garden with fairy lights that reflected on a pond adorned with lily pads.

Giddy warmth flooded my chest. I pulled out my phone and stared at the screen, wondering if I should call Mother and thank her for this wonderful gift.

After changing my SIM card, I clicked the icon that speed-dialed her number, but she didn’t pick up. I thought about calling her from my old number, but it would go straight to voicemail. She’d blocked me shortly after she had kicked me out for getting Billy Hancock arrested.

I threw myself face-down on a mattress that felt like clouds. The faint scent of lavender wafted out from the sheets. This was my own personal paradise, and I wouldn’t do a thing to spoil it.

And if Elizabeth and her lapdog, Kendrick, tried to run me out of the academy, they’d soon find that they had messed with the wrong person.

Chapter 6

The next morning, the ring of a church bell reverberated in my ears, pulling me out of an easily forgotten dream. Between the soft, feather comforter and a mattress topper of the same material, I had slept like I’d been hugged by clouds.

So, this was what it felt to be unencumbered. To sleep without the constant dread of the police raiding the basement, without Sammy snoring in my ear, or his erection poking into my ass.

Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, just like in a fairytale. This was a long way from the hard beds and shrill bells of the juvenile detention center.

If this was how all the students slept, it was no wonder they’d gotten the fantastic grades old Mr. Burgh had mentioned.

I reached out and checked my phone — six o’clock. Way too early, considering breakfast ended at eight-thirty. Then I closed my eyes, ready to doze until the last minute. It wasn’t like I had any homework.

About an hour later, a sharp rap on the door broke me out of my slumber.

Mrs. Campbell’s voice said, “Miss Hancock?”

If I ignored her, she would go away.

The handle turned, and I sat upright, clutching the sheet to my bare chest. “What?”

The older woman bustled inside, followed by two younger women who wore the black-and-white uniforms of domestic staff. Each carried bundles of clothing.

“Good morning, my dear! I’ve brought your supplies. The headmaster says we should kit you out with everything.” She placed a thin box on the desk.

My eyes bulged. “Is that a laptop?”