“Daddy’s a jailbird, huh?” Richard steps forward from our corner of the yard; hands slung casually in his slacks pockets. “Takes the shine off your crown, doesn’t it?”
“Leave her alone,” Christian drawls from his spot lounging with his elbows rested on the stone table behind him. “Until acquitted, he’s still an innocent man.”
“You mean until convicted the gossip is fair game.”
I swing my gaze to Libby, shocked by her callous statement. Greer clutches my arm a little tighter in a silent reminder to let it go.
“What is the latest?” Barrett asks, stepping forward from the back of the group. “Have you heard whether they’ll let him go?”
“Of course, they’ll let him go,” Ingrid answers before I can. “Libby’s father was let off, so why shouldn’t Lacey’s?”
Greer relinquishes her hold on me, giving a slight nudge so that I step toward Barrett.
“I haven’t heard much,” I say simply as he circles behind me. “But Dad is still held in custody at this point.”
“Interesting.” Libby flicks her golden locks over one shoulder to toy with the ends. “They wouldn’t hold him unless they thought he was guilty.”
“You don’t know that.” Barrett’s reply vibrates through me, his head close to mine where he stands behind my right shoulder.
“It isn’t looking great; I’ll admit that,” Christian drops.
My stomach plummets to my feet. I ache to pull him aside and ask if he thinks Dad will get the plea bargain, and what it means if he doesn’t. But I can’t stand the thought of how I’ll feel if the news isn’t good.
“You want to get some fresh air?” Barrett asks low enough for only me to hear.
“We’re already outside,” I half-heartedly quip in response.
To which he smiles. Heaven help me. “Maybe so, but don’t you think Christian’s big head sucks all the air away from the rest of us?”
I stifle a laugh, glancing toward the guy in question. He watches us closely.
“Sure. Let’s get some air before the bell.”
“Fuck the bell,” Barrett mumbles, promptly taking me by the hand to drag me toward the back of the school.
I hasten to keep up, dragged down corridors, and tucked through doorways I never knew led to places I’ve never been. I don’t question how he knows the school so intimately, instead focused on the back of his head as he rushes us into what I can only assume is a delivery dock tucked in the rear of an alcove created by three wings of the school building.
The bitter morning wind is non-existent in our secret little world, only the company of two crows pecking at the scraps overflowing from a refuse skip keeping this from being a more intimate affair.
“Don’t listen to anything those arseholes have to say.” Barrett positions himself atop a stack of upturned milk crates and gestures for me to come closer.
I do so slowly, drinking in the way his features darken as I near. “What is this?” I ask with a hint of a smile as I settle my waist between his wide-open knees.
“It’s me telling you that they have nothing over you if you choose for it to be that way. They want to cut you down, Lacey, because you’re beautiful and smart.” His hand lifts to brush the stray strands of hair from my face. “You’re also brave and full of sharp edges that threaten their perfect circle.”
“I’m not brave,” I whisper, dropping my gaze to my feet.
He hums in discord, tucking both feet behind me to cage me against him. “Yes, you are. You showed up here today, knowing what mess waited for you.”
I want to deny that I did. Explain that I was naïve in thinking my friends would have my back through all of this. But I knew deep down, didn’t I? A little part of me niggled that Dad being behind bars wouldn’t be the only part of my life that changed.
“You’ve never paid any attention to me before,” I challenge, holding his burning gaze. “Why now?”
“Why not now?” Barrett’s jaw tics, his brow diving for a brief second before he softens his features once more. “Don’t you want this?”
I do. But… “Maybe not right now?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?” His feet release me from his prison, the simple movement as powerful as a thrust to the chest.
“I guess I’m telling you.” I step back, arms across myself while he dips his head to rummage in the pocket of his blazer.
Dark waves of hair fall across his eyes, shielding the earnest truth from me while he pulls out a single green pill.
“What is that?”
Barrett turns it between his fingers as though mesmerised by its beauty. “Molly.”
“What the hell?” I hiss, checking the windows that overlook our secret spot. “Are you crazy?”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “You want one?”
“Heck, no!”
I watch in horror as he swallows it dry, his head falling back against the brick wall behind him, eyes closed.
Greer said there was something else up with him, but I never figured this would be it. Sure, I’ve seen most of the Chosen do one party drug or another at some stage in our social lives, but never once have I seen a friend bring the damn things to school.
That’s hedonistic.
“I should go.” My gaze stays fixated to the troubled guy before me.
What can I do to help besides dobbing him in? What other option do I have than outing him to the very people he told me mere minutes ago can’t be trusted to have our best interests at heart?
“Stay awhile,” Barrett mumbles, eyes still shut tight. “I don’t feel like being alone.”
So, why did he drag us away from the others?
His eyes open, head falling forward as he fixes me with a hunger wild and unchained.
It all makes sense.
I search the corners of the building, gaze darting from side to side, but I fail to see a single security camera in this area. Of course. No student in their right mind would take drugs where it’s able to be proven beyond doubt.
“We
