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I freeze from inside his arms, as Duncan stalks toward Li and Arabella. Ordinarily, I’d protest. I’d say no, don’t do this. But I’ve had it. I’ve had enough, and I have the fresh wounds to prove it. Even Danny, with all his treasured morality, fails to react. There’s a limit to the chiefs’ mercy and goodwill — and setting out to hurt me is it, it seems, the one line that cannot be crossed. It’s oddly heartening in a way.
At some point, Duncan must have picked up Finlay’s shinty stick for safekeeping. He approaches Li and Arabella with an endless calm insouciance, turning the stick on his shoulder as if it were a parasol.
Li’s eyes flit to Rory. “You must be jok—”
The stickthwacks onto the stone floor, inches in front of her.
This is it, I realize, as their eyes turn to me, expecting me to overrule this male-driven madness. This is the moment my hanging-on-by-a-thread relationship with them is severed entirely.
When I say nothing at all.
Duncan strikes the shinty stick along the wooden railings, deliberately spooking them, as a deep xylophone-like sound rings out. Li and Arabella scrabble to their feet. He sets the curve of the stick in front of him, eyeing it as though teeing up in a round of golf, only the aim is not so much distance but rather the power of a potential strike, the target being Li and Arabella rather than a hole in the ground. They squeal and jerk away from Duncan, who takes a massive swing with the shinty stick as though it’s a golf club, and misses them — perhaps deliberately — by mere moments.
I watch them fly downstairs, and I’m full of mixed emotions. Duncan leisurely strolls after them, whistling and occasionally lining up the head of the stick with the floor, and sending a loose stone high into the air.
When everyone stops screaming, I find I can finally breathe.
“Well,” I say, still disturbed despite myself. “I see he has no issues with bringing his violence to girls as well as guys…”
Rory shrugs, methodically checking me over. His thumb strokes my cheekbone, which feels delicate in a way it hasn’t since last year. “Having a cold-blooded soldier on my side makes him useful to me. It also makes sense when you realize who his parents are.”
I shoot him a quizzical look.
“Lochkelvin is an expensive education. Which is why its students are the offspring of the well-known or the well-connected. And for some parents, a private education here is nothing more than another status symbol in a life full of them.” His smile is a grim curl when he explains, “Duncan’s parents are the most notorious gangsters in the West of Scotland.”
I stare at him. “What?”
“They’ll traffic anything they can get their hands on,” he says evasively, leaving my imagination to figure it out.
Frankly, I’m horrified. “And your dad accepted him here? You’refriendswith this guy?”
Rory gives me a look that seems to be bordering on pity. “You don’t understand, little saint. Good intentions are all very well in politics, but it’s kingpins like Duncan’s family who provide the resources to keep our institutions ticking. He’s a tool for the establishment, the enabler of many a compromised politician.” He glances across to Danny, who’s dealing with the remaining gremlins who’d stayed to watch the show. “They all right?”
“Their egos are bruised,” Danny answers, his brown eyes narrowing at Rory. “While you’re at it, how about not depressing Jessa?”
“She needs to know how this world works,” Rory says, unapologetic as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “We use bad people to get rid of weak politicians — and in the case of the girls, weak idiots. Unless you disagree, D-boy?” He tosses the question out while examining my eyes. “Your god not a fan of having the country served by those with the strongest willpower and the greatest integrity?”
Danny rolls his eyes. “My god is not a fan of rhetorical questions,” he says, and Rory smirks.
“Li’s never going to be punished for this,” I realize with a sinking feeling, flinching when Rory’s fingers experimentally trace the side of my ribs. “Not by the teachers. She started it but she’ll sail through scot-free. I’m the one who’ll probably end up getting yelled at.” I blink up at the ceiling, the cold gray stone seeming flat and heavy. “I’m always on the wrong side.Always.”
Rory inspects me carefully. “I figure if you’re on the wrong side of those speaking the words approved by authority, then maybe you’re on the right side after all.”
His words are placating, and at that moment a necessary reminder, and I cling to them, letting them console me. The truth is worth this. The truth is more important than the brief flashes of pain fired by the other side. I feel somewhat fervid as I grab hold of this thought, pressing it tight to my heart, because surely there are exceptions. Surely it can’t be what Rory believes all of the time. But right then, his calm explanation is the only way that this topsy-turvy world makes a sliver of sense as it plummets deeper into unbridled political madness.
“Come on,” Rory whispers, a brush of warm lips against the skin of my bruising cheek. “Let’s go to the dorm. I’ll look after you.”
