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“How the fuck did you even get that out of the Chancellor?” Ezra says, looking over his shoulder at me. “I mean, I’m happy you got it obviously, but shit."
I chuckle. “I have my sources.” I think it’s best to keep my agreement with Tara private, for both of our sakes. There’s asmallchance this may go wrong, and I don’t want her to be implicated in this. “Trusted sources,” I add.
Ezra grunts a response. “At least what you found validates what we all thought. I can’t fucking believe that she would go that far.” There’s ire in his tone. “Like, how fucking mental can one person be? It’s like she has no sense of danger.”
I want to say I’m surprised, but truthfully, I’m not.
In hindsight, it was predictable. But you never notice all the puzzle pieces when you’re in the thick of things. I was so caught up with keeping Alize safe that I didn’t notice her trap.
Tonight, I will atone for my sins.
I’m about to respond to Ezra when he pivots toward me sharply and points to a nearby copse. We’re on one of the footpaths crisscrossing the campus. This one winds through one of the parks and toward Hemlock House.
Because of its proximity to their dorm, it’s a popular jogging path for the Hemlock House girls. Tonight, we’re on the hunt for a particular Hemlock Housewhore.
I heard through the grapevine that she’s taken to midnight jogs to help ease the stress that’s seeped into her life. By grapevine, I mean that I beat it out of Liz’s boyfriend a few hours ago. My knuckles are bruised, but he’s probably going to need surgery.
“There she is,” Ezra whispers.
My eyes are glued to the path as the sound of light footsteps gets closer. Soon, a pink-tracksuit-clad body emerges from the shadows. Her hair is caught atop her head in a limp ponytail.
Cassidy.
The sight of her unleashes the floodgates of my rage. I want to tear her limb-from-limb, piss on the pieces, burn them, then scatter the ashes on her father’s grave. I would send a finger or two to Duchess Coldwell so she has something for the family crypt. After all, I’m not entirely heartless—a mother needs something to remember her dead daughter by.
Violence against women is not something I ever consider, but Cassidy’s finally pushed me to my limit. She can’t keep acting with this much impunity. There has to be consequences. My eyesight actually grows blurry for a bit, but Ezra’s hand on my shoulder pulls me out of the murderous haze.
Cassidy has paused at the junction in the path to stretch, oblivious to our presence. She’s a few meters away from us, and as far as I can see, there’s nobody else around.
Now is as good a time as any to make our move.
I give Ezra the signal.
He pulls a small gun from his waistband. It’s about the size of 9mm, and kinda looks like one. But it’s not a bullet he loads into the chamber, it’s a vial filled with a concoction of fast-acting sedative. I stand next to him, tense with anticipation as he aims.
The shot hisses through the air, striking her in her arm.
The next few seconds seem to take forever.
Cassidy looks down at where she’s been hit, then back in the direction where she thinks the shot came from. There’s a brief moment of confusion then shock on her face. She opens her mouth to scream but it never comes. She collapses instead.
Ezra and I quickly drag her into the trees with us.
“It’ll be out of her system in an hour and a half,” he whispers. “You’ll need to have her restrained by that time.”
I nod, undoing the fitness tracker from her wrist and patting down her slight frame for her phone. I power it off once I find it. Just touching her has my skin crawling—the day I fucked this bitch is the day my world started to implode and I didn’t even know it.
“Bring the car as close as you can.”
Ezra nods and slinks off into the darkness, and I’m left standing over Cassidy’s unconscious body. I have half a mind to stomp her face,butthat would also screw up my plan. Its success is entirely dependent on doing this as cleanly as possible.
Giving her a black eye and broken nose doesn’t classify as cleanly.
I hear the purr of Ezra’s Range Rover in the distance. He rolls up with the headlights off, and gets out. He pulls an oversized black suitcase out of the trunk, wheeling it over to me.
It’s just big enough to fit Cassidy.
We get her in, not zipping it up all the way so she can breathe. Then we load her into the backseat. The night is still quiet, and there hasn’t been anyone walking this way. None of the nearby buildings overlook this path either, so it’s effectively a blindspot.
