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He always made her stay with him in Madison Heights when he was going to trial. There was no telling what his clients might do if he lost on their behalf. Good thing he never did.
It was why he made her take the lessons in the first place. Why he didn’t complain when I tagged along with her—since it seemed to be the only way his daughter would go herself.
“Hey,” Bri whispered and it took me a full ten seconds to realize she was talking to me.
I squinted at her, checking to make sure the teacher was busy before replying. I didn’t want to incur his wrath twice in the same morning. “What do you want?”
Her lips pressed together as she tapped a piece of paper in her glittery pink three-ring binder. Groaning inwardly, I leaned over to look at what she’d written and froze. Burning rage seared through my chest and steamed my cheeks, turning them no doubt a blistery red.
In a deep red ink were the words:
GO BACK TO YOUR TRAILER, LENNOX. YOU DON’T BELONG HERE.
Great, so everyone already knew exactly who I was then. I wondered if they paid off the office admin for the info or if they’d just handed it over with no questions asked. Neither would surprise me.
The darkness I always kept at bay slid up my throat like poison, making me have to choke it back.
I smiled sweetly and slid my middle finger over my lips, pretending to blend imaginary lip balm.Fuck off,I mouthed and earned myself a chuckle from Grey, who was at the perfect angle behind us to read my lips.
But Bri’s grin only magnified at my slight, a deviant glimmer in her bright green eyes as she turned to the teacher, her expression morphing completely.
“Thief!” she shrieked, standing so sharply that her desk jostled, her perfect row of multicolored pens scattering to the floor. “Mr. Jameson, she stole my bracelet!”
I rolled my eyes. Yep. A cuntnugget for sure.
Mr. Jameson’s beady eyes slid to me accusingly, his face in a disgusted pucker. “Now, now, class,” he said firmly, making the chatter of the other students lower as he cut between the aisle of desks with his sights set on me.
I put my hands up, knowing the drill, even if Mr. Jameson wasn’t an officer of the law. He might as well be here. Plus, if your hands are up, they’re less likely to shoot.
Of course, you’re still not totally safe even then. Getting one that’d had a bad day almost always ended in at least a few bruises from a baton or a getting tased for ‘resisting’ even if you were statue-still. At least, that’s how it worked in Lennox.
“I didn’t take anything,” I said preemptively, cutting off the teacher before he could speak. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
Mr. Jameson glared between Bri and me, his face growing redder by the second. “Miss Moore, is it possible you simply left your bracelet in your room?”
“No,” she whined, pointing her finger in my direction. “Check her pockets.”
Jesus fucking Christ.
Sighing, I turned out my right pocket and then my left, knowing the drill and just wanting this bullshittery over with. But something cool brushed my fingers a second before it toppled from the pocket of my baggy sweater. The dainty silver bracelet hit the polished floor with a little tinkle, and the rage I’d been working to squish back into the jar where it belonged began to overflow.
“I didnotsteal that,” I said through gritted teeth as Bri crossed her arms over her chest, dignified in her accusation now that it was proven correct. I wasn’t an idiot; I knew how this looked. And how weak my rebuttal sounded.
Mr. Jameson collected the bracelet and handed it back to Bri who looked far too pleased with herself for my liking. I wondered if she’d look so damned smug with two black eyes but managed to rein myself in, clasping my hands together beneath the table in a vice.
“Theft is not tolerated at Briar Hall.”
Bri shared a conspiratorial look with the guy behind me, and it all made sense. The bitch had set me up. She’d passed the bracelet to the douche canoe behind me, and he’d slipped it into my pocket when she made me lean over to read her stupid note. I’d been played.
Wow. Touché, bitch.Tou-fucking-ché.
“Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
I glared up at the teacher, running my tongue over my teeth and half expecting to find fangs. When I didn’t give Mr. Jameson the response he wanted, because I’d be damned if I was going to admit to something I didn’t do, he shook his head.
“Gather your things and get out of my sight.”
With pleasure.There was no sense arguing about it, not when the evidence was right there for everyone in the entire class to see.
