The Elites

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by Ruby Vincent




  The Elites

  A Breakbattle Academy Novel

  Ruby Vincent

  Published by Ruby Vincent, 2020.

  Copyright © 2019 by Ruby Vincent

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  ***

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Final Chapter

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Prologue

  “Excuse me.” I raced up to them. “Excuse me, I’m one of the Elite students. Can you tell me who was hurt, please?”

  “What’s your name?” one of them asked.

  “It’s Zeke Manning.”

  “You’re Zeke Manning?”

  “Yes. Can you tell me who—”

  “Zeke Manning.” A rough hand seized me and spun me around. I cried out as my arms were twisted behind my back. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Cameron Dupre. You have the right to remain—”

  “What the fuck are you doing?!”

  Derek rushed at them and one of the officers stepped out to meet him. I didn’t see them clash. I didn’t see anything. The world faded.

  Faintly in the distance, I heard Christmas music.

  Chapter One

  The door opened behind me. I sat rigidly in the chair, my gaze pointed straight ahead at the neat, uniformed grooves of the cinderblock walls.

  “Hello.”

  The cheerful voice reached me before the man stepped into my vision. My staredown with the wall ended as I met with a simple black suit and a surprisingly casual blue tie covered in cartoon ducks. He was a pleasant-looking guy. His beard sported flecks of gray and was trimmed neatly. His smile would be friendly if it wasn’t for the fact that it didn’t reach his eyes.

  “Sorry for keeping you waiting, Zek— I mean... Zela.” He pulled out the chair and sat. The smile still hung on his lips. “I’m Detective Langman. Did someone offer you something to drink?”

  “Why am I here?” I asked bluntly.

  I wasn’t interested in the good-cop routine. My life had been turned upside down in the space of a weekend.

  Langman cocked his head. “Were you not informed of the charges? Shit. That’s an oversight.”

  I balled my fists. “No. I was told I was under arrest for Cameron’s murder, but since that’s complete nonsense, I want to know why you dragged me in here.”

  Langman’s expression didn’t change. “We’ll get into all of that. You’re underage so we’ve contacted your mother to be present during the interview. She should be here soon.”

  My muscles constricted even tighter. Mom is coming? After lying to her, tricking her, and running away from her. The first time we’ll see each other is in a police station.

  Might be a good thing, another voice spoke up. There’ll be cops here to save me when she loses her mind.

  “We don’t have to wait for her,” I said. “I didn’t touch Cameron and you have no proof that I did.”

  “No?”

  “No,” I said firmly. “I wasn’t even at school this weekend. I’m innocent.”

  He blew out a breath. “‘I’m innocent. I have an alibi.’ You won’t believe how many times I’ve heard that.”

  “Can you just go?” I snapped. “If we have to wait for my mom, I’d rather wait alone.”

  “Of course, Zela.”

  I pinched my lips at the way he kept saying my real name. Detective Langman might have worn a funny tie and a calm smile, but I knew when I was being mocked.

  He patted my shoulder on the way out and I flinched. “I’ll get that drink.”

  I resumed my staring contest with the wall after the door closed. My mind was a tangled mess. Every thought was whipping through my head too fast for me to grab one and make sense of it.

  Jonathan Grayson wasn’t my father. He wasn’t anyone’s father. My mother believed he was but she must have been with someone else around the time I was conceived. How would I find him? I wouldn’t be stumbling over any more birth certificates and Mom went to school with hundreds of guys back then. How would I find my father in the midst of them eighteen years later?

  And then there’s Cameron...

  Cameron Dupre was killed. Found dead in his own room. But why? Who would do that to him? And why in the hell did they think it was me? We’ve gotten into it over the years but I’d never hurt anyone.

  He’d been going through something this year.

  The whispered thought broke through the noise. I sat up straighter in my seat.

  Cameron had been strange all year—quiet, head down, withdrawn. The lordly strolls through the cafeteria flaunting his status had stopped. He had given up torturing me like he forgot I existed except for—

  “The party,” I whispered. “He got into a fight at the party and then it sounded like he got into it with someone that day in the dorm.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t know if it was the same person, or even who that person was. I had nothing to go on.

  All I had was my innocence. That would have to be enough for Detective “Duck Tie” Langman.

  The seconds ticked by in the chilly, concrete room as I waited. What felt like an hour but could have been minutes later, Langman returned and placed an unopened can of ginger soda on the table. I made no move to touch it.

  He reclaimed his seat and we passed the time together—albeit in total silence.

  “—is she?!”

  I whipped around.

  “How dare you bring her here without my permission!? If I find out you’ve questioned her—”

  “Please, ma’am!” The cry was laced with the special brand of exasperation my mother ignited in people. “Your daughter is in this interrogation room. You may go in. They’re waiting for—”

  The door flew open. Mom’s growing hair was in the stage where it stuck out more than it lay flat. It could be why as she filled the doorway, radiating fury like I had never seen. The artificial lights caught her golden locks and made them look like they were aflame.

  Sinking lower in my seat, I swallowed hard.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “I’m Detective Langman.” He rose and held out his hand. “You must be Miss Mann—”

  She turned away from him, dismissing him outright. “Zela, get up. We’re leaving.”

  I jumped up without question.

  “No, you’re not,” Langman said. He smoothly stepped into the path of the doorway.

  Mom kept coming until she was in his face. “You have no grounds to arrest my daughter.”

  Langman looked down on her impassively. “What I have are eyewitness accounts that your daughter got into an altercation with the victim more than once. What I have is a blackmail video hidden in the victim’s room where Cameron Dupre has her stripped and threatens to reveal her identity as a girl to everyone.”

  “What? Cameron Dupre?” Mom turned to me. Her righteous fury melted away and was replaced by shock. “He did what to her?”

  Langman’s brows shot up. “You didn’t know.”

  It wasn�
�t a question.

  “Then I also have a suspect with something to hide that she wouldn’t report an assault to her mother. I also have a school with no cameras, an unlocked gate, and the only record of who comes and goes is one man and one sign-in sheet in the administration office. I think that’s plenty, Miss Manning. What do you think?”

  “I can explain all of that!” I cried.

  “I would love to hear that explanation.” He held out his hand. “Please, sit.”

  My mom’s eyes remained on me as she slowly approached the table and pulled out her seat. I looked away. I couldn’t stand the betrayal that shone in them.

  Langman reclaimed his seat and gave me that smile once again. He took out a pad and pen from his breast pocket and flipped it to a blank page. “Okay, Zela. Tell me about that night in the woods.”

  “There’s nothing more to tell. It’s all on the video.” I cut eyes to Mom. She was still looking at me, piercing me through with her gaze. I turned back to Langman. “Cameron agreed to keep my secret if I didn’t get in the way of the expansion. I agreed and that was the end of it.”

  “I reviewed the tape and there was an interesting bit at the end when Cameron insinuates he’ll reveal your secret if the attacks by this”—Langman flipped through his notebook—“For All don’t cease. As we both know, the attacks did not stop and the principal tells me they have yet to identify the culprit.”

  I blinked at him. How is this guy so well-informed?

  “Did you get panicky, Zela? Afraid that the next attack would be the outing of your secret.”

  “No. There was nothing for me to be panicked about. Cameron didn’t know it but not long after that night in the woods, I accomplished what I came to Breakbattle to do. I had no reason to hurt him and if he revealed my secret, it wouldn’t have changed anything.”

  I shook my head. “Not that he seemed interested. He’s kept to himself for the last couple months. I barely remember the last time he looked in my direction. We didn’t have a problem this year.”

  He nodded. “I see. And the night of the fundraiser?”

  “I never touched him. Cameron got into a fight with someone else.”

  “Who?”

  “I didn’t see them.”

  His raised eyebrow told me what he thought of that. “How did you get blood on your clothes?”

  “Cameron ran into me getting away from them. His forehead was bleeding and it got on me. I tried to ask him if he was okay and who hurt him, but he wouldn’t talk to me.”

  “What about—”

  “Listen.” I cut my hand through the air. “None of this matters because I wasn’t on campus this weekend. I was as shocked as everyone when I came back to school and found out he was hurt.”

  “Then—”

  “Where were you?” Mom’s sharp voice interrupted Langman. She grasped my chin between two fingers and made me face her. “Tell me.”

  “I was... with Derek,” I whispered.

  “Where?”

  “His dad has a place near the studio. It sits empty when he’s between movies, so Derek knew we’d be alone.”

  “What’s the address?” asked Langman.

  “It’s—” I tried to look at him but Mom held me fast.

  “Why would you go there with this Derek boy?” she asked. “Why didn’t you answer my calls or tell me where you were?” Her hand shook my chin. “I was worried sick!”

  “I’m sorry, Mom,” I replied through trembling lips. “It was just too much. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “You should have—”

  Langman cleared his throat. “Excuse me. If I could conduct this interview, we can wrap this up much quicker. Cameron Dupre was seen at dinner last night, so we’re estimating his death was between nine and midnight after he returned to his room. You’re claiming you were off campus with someone?”

  Mom let me go and I addressed Langman. “I was.”

  “Tell me the address and the full name of this person.”

  “I don’t know the address. I wasn’t paying attention to where we were going. You can ask Derek Grayson. That’s his name.”

  He wrote something in his pad. “And your mother did not know where you were,” he confirmed without looking up.

  “No.”

  “Why is that?”

  “None of your business,” Mom said firmly. “It’s a personal family matter and don’t give me any nonsense about having a right to know everything in a murder investigation,” she added when he opened his mouth. “She told you where she was when this Cameron was killed and that was nowhere near him. Derek Grayson will tell you the same thing. As I said, you have no grounds to hold my daughter, so unless you can provide concrete proof, we’re leaving.”

  Mom and Langman stared at each other. The atmosphere was charged with two indomitable wills. I held my breath waiting to see what would happen.

  Langman closed his notepad. “Actually, you can provide the concrete proof, Zela.” He addressed me but didn’t glance away from Mom.

  “What does that mean?”

  “I will speak to Derek Grayson of course and see if I can confirm this alibi, but we may be able to settle this conclusively if you provide a DNA sample.”

  “No,” Mom said.

  “There was blood on the victim that we assume is the killer’s. If she—”

  “No. She’s given you her alibi and that is more than enough. I won’t have you treat her like a criminal for a moment longer.” She snagged the hem of my sleeve and stood us both up. “Goodbye, Detective. If you have any more questions, you can direct them to my lawyer.”

  “I just have one more.”

  His words stopped us at the door.

  “What was it that made all of this worth it, Zela? The lying. The hiding. The blackmail. Why did you do it?”

  I sensed Mom didn’t want me to answer, but I did anyway. “I did it for my family.”

  “And you say you accomplished what you set out to do?”

  A lump formed in my throat. I forced myself to reply. “Yes, I did. For better or worse, I did.”

  Langman’s jovial smile returned. He rose from his seat and crossed over to me, making Mom put herself between us.

  “That’s good,” he said over her shoulder. I could see his eyes clearly. “Because the academy has been informed of the truth. They know you’re a girl... and I’m told they’ll be in contact with you soon. Have a nice day, Zela.” He stepped around Mom and grabbed the doorknob. “I’m sure we’ll speak again soon.”

  Langman walked out, and then it was just me and Mom.

  I couldn’t lift my eyes higher than her knees. I steadied myself waiting for her to blow.

  “Are you okay?”

  “What?” I raised my head.

  “He said that boy assaulted y-you.” Her voice cracked.

  I nodded slowly. “He and his friends tore my clothes off for the camera.”

  Her hand flew to her mouth.

  “They left me in my bra and panties,” I said quickly.

  “That doesn’t matter! How dare they touch you at all?! If they’re in the video, then the detective can identify them. I’ll let him know we intend to press charges.”

  Mom swept out of the room before I could stop her—not that I intended to. I didn’t have a secret to keep anymore. It was past time they paid for what they did to me.

  MOM WAS QUIET ON THE drive home. I was ready for her screaming, yelling, and raving but none came. Many times, I opened my mouth to apologize. Nothing I came up with was enough. I loved my mother. She was tough, unconventional, and hid more than she shared, but she was always there for me, and she did her best to raise me as a strong, healthy, smart young woman. I lied to her and I would accept the anger I rightly deserved for it.

  I peeked at Mom out of the corner of my eye. If only it would come.

  Mom turned onto our driveway and killed the engine. She didn’t look at me as she said, “It’s been a long day. Go inside, get cleaned up, and I’l
l make lunch.”

  She grabbed the door handle.

  “Mom, I’m sorry.”

  She stilled.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the real reason I wanted to become Zeke. I’m sorry about Jonathan. If I had known he couldn’t have kids sooner, none of this would have happened.”

  “What does that mean, Zela? How would that excuse you tricking me?” Her voice was tight.

  “It doesn’t—”

  “You’re right!” She spun on me. “It doesn’t excuse anything you’ve done for these last years, Zela. Years!” The calm mask cracked. Pain and anger leaked out of Mom’s eyes as the first tear I’ve seen her shed in years ran down her cheek. “When did you find out about him?!”

  “A... few days after we moved back to Chesterfield,” I croaked. “I found my birth certificate.”

  “So you made up a story about wanting to help with my book and combat sexism to get close to that man. How could you do this, Zela?”

  “I did it for Derek,” I admitted. “I wanted to know my brother. I didn’t see another way to be a part of his life without enrolling on the boys’ campus. I won’t pretend I didn’t start this hoping one day I’d get close to Jonathan, but I wasn’t going after him. I remember the last time I went after my father.”

  Mom’s eyes flashed. “Do not, Zela. Don’t blame me for what happened that day at the mall.”

  I pressed my lips together tight, holding in any reply that could make this worse. My love for Mom was always there through all of this. It tugged on my guilt even as my anger simmered beneath the surface. I didn’t want to think it... but a part of me knew six-year-old Zela never would have ended up in the arms of a predator if my mother had told me the truth.

  Maybe Mom saw that in my eyes because her jaw slackened. “Zela! I made up a name to protect you! How could I— How could I ever have predicted what happened?!”

  She surged forward and took hold of me, cupping my face in her hands. “You’re my daughter and all I’ve ever done is protect you. Jonathan Grayson was a name too well known. I couldn’t have you track him down and be hurt the same way I was.”

 

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