by Sofia Daniel
“Consider it etched in my mental diary,” he replied.
I focused on the rest of the hand job and slid my fist up and down Prakash’s shaft, enjoying the way he pulsed and shuddered under my touch.
A sheen of sweat glistened on his face, and he bared his straight, white teeth. His hips rocked against my movements, increasing the friction. Both arms lay beside him on the mattress, and his hands curled into fists as though he was trying to hold back his climax.
“Kash,” I said. “Let go. I want to see you cum.”
With a harsh cry, he arched his back and spurted pearlescent, white fluid over his belly. I drew back, admiring how it contrasted with his gorgeous, dark skin. Prakash’s chest rose and fell in several rapid breaths before he twisted around and pounced on me. Holding my wrists to the mattress, he bared his gorgeous, white teeth. His dark eyes flashed, making my heart flip-flop.
“Time to return the favor.” His gaze dropped to my nipple, which he gave a playful nip.
Electricity zinged down to my clit. “Oh!”
A knock on the door broke his concentration.
“Kash,” said Sebastian. “Mrs. Benazir says that if you’re not in her office by eight, you can consider yourself suspended.”
“Shit.” He rolled off the bed and scrambled for his clothes. “If I can’t stay here, they’ll send me back to that bloody place.”
I sat up. “They didn’t drop the charges?”
“No,” he snarled. “And they’re still looking for more crap to pin on me.”
Chapter 9
I would have asked if Prakash was implying that the police were still investigating him for Corrine’s death, but Mrs. Benazir was desperate to use any tactic to get rid of him. I sat up in the bed and pulled the sheets up to my neck. My gaze flicked over to the wall clock, which read seven fifty-five.
My jaw clenched. The wretched old woman hadn’t specified a particular time for Prakash to see her, so I guessed this was another pathetic attempt to have him sent back to the juvenile detention center.
Prakash grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and slid them over his muscular legs and defined ass.
“Kash?” shouted Sebastian. “Are you awake?”
“One minute!” Prakash pulled on his pants, slipped his feet into his shoes, and shouldered on a shirt.
I placed both hands over my thrashing heart. The police had more than enough evidence to prove his innocence—the video I shot of Bruce’s bruised knuckles, the butler’s alibi, and Barrett’s confession—what more did they want from Prakash to drop the charges?
“See you later.” He rushed to the bed, pressed a kiss on my lips, shot out of the door, and raced down the hallway.
Sebastian stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
“What’s going on?” My fists clenched the sheet. “Why is he only out on bail?”
“Mr. Pinkerton is working on that.” Sebastian sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “His priority was to secure bail and get Kash out of that hell hole.”
“Okay.” I waited for him to elaborate.
“Once the police saw the evidence, and Barrett gave his statement saying that Bruce attacked Ashley, they could no longer maintain the falsehood that Kash was too dangerous to be let out.”
Pushing aside thoughts of Ashley’s murderous revenge, I leaned into his side and drew my knees into my chest. “When you put it like that, I can see that that was the best choice. But why is Mrs. Benazir threatening suspension?”
“Covering her ass.”
I stared up into Sebastian’s solemn, green eyes. “What do you mean?”
“The violence in the school has gotten so out of control that teachers are trying to murder students.”
“True,” I said.
“Even worse, former students are succeeding at the task. None of this would have happened if she didn’t slack off to read novels in the staffroom.
My brows rose, but I didn’t dare ask him how he knew that in case he mentioned that Miss Claymore had told him. “What are we going to do to keep Kash in the academy until the police drop the charges?”
Sebastian ran his hand down my back, easing the tension in my muscles. “Leo’s in Benazir’s office, speaking to his mother about the injustice of suspending a good student with no home in the UK, knowing that it will send him back to custody.”
My brows drew together, and I chewed my bottom lip. Mrs. Brunswick didn’t seem overly disposed toward Leopold. “Will she even listen to him?”
“He’s threatening to call that local reporter to stir up shit. So far, the overdoses haven’t made it to the press. If the paper learned what the boys did to Ashley and what she did in return, it would be in the headlines for months.”
“Let’s hope they don’t call his bluff,” I muttered.
After showering and dressing, I made my way to Advanced Calculus, expecting only to see Miss Weir. But Prakash turned around in the seat next to mine and beamed.
My chest tightened. Why was he so happy? Had things gone well with Mrs. Benazir?
Miss Weir scribbled some integrals on the board and launched into a demonstration of trigonometric substitution.
Prakash leaned across the table and whispered, “Thank you for warming my bed last night.”
Pleasure spread through my insides. I gazed at him through my lashes and murmured, “It was my pleasure.”
“I’ll make up for this morning,” he whispered.
“Yes, yes!” Miss Weir tapped the board with her chalk. “It’s great to have you back, Mr. Kashaayah, but you’ve missed weeks of classes. Please focus. Now is not the time to let your attention wane.”
“My apologies, Miss,” he said in a solemn voice.
I turned back to the front and focussed on the lecture. When the bell rang, we walked hand-in-hand down the stairs and through the hallway to the Information Technology class.
Students turned to stare as we passed, but Prakash kept his head high. Because of Barrett’s public outburst, everyone knew he was innocent. A few people shot me hateful looks, and I wondered if they blamed me for Ashley’s crimes.
Leopold bounded up to us from one of the classrooms. “Kash, what happened after she kicked me out of her office?”
Prakash grinned. “Whatever you said to your mother did the trick. Benazir agreed to let me stay.”
Brows drawing together, I stared into Prakash’s handsome face. “Will the police close Ashley’s case by then?”
“If they don’t, I’m screwed,” he muttered.
Leopold slung an arm over Prakash’s shoulder and leaned into his friend. “Speaking of getting screw—”
“You’ve got some nerve!” snarled a voice from behind.
We turned around to find Cormac advancing toward us through the hallway. My stomach plummeted, and my back stiffened for a confrontation. Ever since Prakash had gotten arrested for the Assault on Ashley, Cormac seemed to take every opportunity to berate me with words or disappointed looks about my involvement with the kings.
Cormac’s hands balled into fists, reminding me of the first time I had met him. It had been on this hallway, and he’d accused Leopold of sexually harassing Ashley and me. “They should never have released you from prison!”
Prakash’s nostrils flared, and a muscle in his jaw flexed, but he didn’t defend himself. I hoped it was because he was too dignified to comment and not out of guilt about Corrine.
Leopold stepped forward. “Are you going to blame him for Wilmington and Riley, too?”
Cormac tried shoving Leopold aside, but Leopold stood solid. He tried walking around Leopold to get at Prakash, but Leopold placed a hand on his shoulder.
Cormac slammed his fist against the door of a storage cupboard. “Let go of me, or I’ll—”
“Run to Claymore?” Leopold sneered. “She’s not here to support you anymore.”
Cormac stepped back, his face flushed. My chest tightened at the sight of my friend being so distress
ed. I completely understood that the reopening of Corrine’s case and the death of the knights had stirred up old feelings, but Prakash hadn’t killed or assaulted anyone.
I walked around Leopold and placed a hand on Cormac’s arm. “Listen—”
Cormac jerked away as though my touch was scalding. “Don’t tell me my suspicions are unfounded. Corrine didn’t kill herself, and the police know it. I couldn’t…” He pressed his lips together and drew in a deep breath, as though tamping down a torrent of rage.
With softened eyes, Cormac turned his gaze on me and murmured, “I couldn’t stand to hear those words from you, too.”
My shoulders deflated. Deep in my gut, I knew Prakash was innocent, but how could I communicate that to Cormac?
Prakash moved to my side. “Gibbons, I don’t know what happened to Corrine on the summer solstice, but I can assure you of one thing. I did not kill your sister.”
Cormac glowered down at the parquet floor. “That’s for the police to decide.”
I ran a hand through my hair. This was partially my fault. I’d translated enough of Corrine’s diary to work out that she had been in a relationship with Prakash, and not all three kings. Maybe passing this information had focussed Cormac’s anger on just Prakash.
For the rest of the week, tensions between Cormac and the kings died down to a distant but seething resentment. Cormac continued to glower at us from across the classrooms and the dining room, but he was perfectly cordial whenever he saw me alone.
I would have felt torn between my best friend and my boyfriends if Cormac and Geraldine hadn’t taken every opportunity to flaunt their relationship. The aggravating part was that Geraldine and her friends had attacked me on numerous occasions.
Any straight-thinking person would classify forcing a lethal amount of alcohol down a person’s throat and leaving them to the elements as attempted murder. Unlike Cormac, I didn’t shoot anyone filthy looks.
One day after classes, I was walking back to the east wing when a hand closed around my bicep, and the scent of mothballs and dry-cleaning fluid filled my nostrils. Then a smooth voice said, “A word, if you please.”
I whirled around and glared into the indigo eyes of Mr. Byrd. The man slicked his hair back like a stockbroker from the 1980s, and his lips flattened into a grimace of distaste.
Glancing around the hallway, I clutched my hands to my chest. Most of the students had already left for prep, leaving a smattering of little first and second years.
Of their own volition, my feet shuffled back toward the nearest doorway. “What do you want?”
“Your signature,” he reached into the inside pocket of his pinstripe navy suit jacket.
“W-what?” I continued to back away.
His brows rose. “Bianca gave you the package, yes?”
I glanced over my shoulder, paranoid that Bianca might ambush me from behind. “No.”
“Don’t lie to me,” he said through clenched teeth. A scowl twisted his features into an even more menacing visage. “My daughter delivered it into your grubby hands, and my contract is now awaiting your signature.”
My mind raced through possibilities. The only thing Bianca had given me this month was a hard shove down the stairs. I’d never seen her hold a pack—Realization slapped me on the side of the head. He was talking about last term’s blood money.
“If you’re referring to the twenty-five thousand pounds you offered me as a bribe, I turned it down.” When his jaw gaped open, I added, “Bianca was probably too frightened of you to report this, so she left the money on my pillow.”
Mr. Byrd’s scowl smoothed out into a confident smirk. “I knew you were a devious girl. Now that you’ve accepted my financial consideration, you must sign my contract.”
“I would have thrown it back in her face, but I was on my way out and left it in my room.”
“That is no concern of mine.” He pulled out a pen and an envelope.
Dread lined my belly, and my heart galloped as though it wanted to break the confines of my chest. I hadn’t given the man’s money any consideration until now, but I doubted he would remain calm and civil when he discovered what had become of it.
I swallowed hard. “When I returned the next morning, all my things were burning in a bonfire.”
Mr. Byrd stepped back and hissed. “You mean to tell me you—”
“I refused the money and have witnesses to corroborate this.” My feet continued shuffling away from the maniac. “Your daughter left a large sum in an unoccupied room that got ransacked, and its contents burned.”
“Who did this?” he snarled.
Ashley had stolen my laptop and Corrine’s diary. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that she had inspected the contents of that envelope and slipped that in her bag. I had no proof. Besides, as much as I hated her for what she had done, I still wouldn’t wish Mr. Byrd’s wrath on her.
“Who. Broke. Into. Your. Room?” The man advanced on me, his eyes burning with fury, and his chest rising and falling like bellows.
“A vindictive cleaner,” I replied.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Check my bank statements. Ask anyone in the school about my things getting burned.”
His nostrils flared, and his face turned a shade of strangulated purple. “If I find out you’re lying—”
“I’m not. Mrs. Benazir will tell you about the unauthorized bonfire. She won’t forget about it, considering she had to replace my books and clothes.”
Mr. Byrd was about to say something when his eyes widened, and he stepped back.
A hand landed on my shoulder. “Willow?” Sebastian stepped in front of me. “What are you doing here, Byrd?”
“Inquiring about a sum of money I entrusted into my daughter’s hands.”
“You were told never to visit these premises,” Sebastian said with a growl.
“Except in Board of Governors meetings to deal with emergencies such as the arrest of a student for previous bodily harm and the drug-related death of two others.” He curled his lip. “There is also the matter of a disciplinary for a teacher unable to keep her hands off a student.”
A retort rolled to the back of my throat, but I held my tongue. Sebastian wouldn’t always be around to protect me, and I got the feeling that Mr. Byrd would do more than push me down the stairs if I revealed his dirty secret.
I stepped back. “If I had your money, I’d throw it in your face if only to watch you scramble around to pick it up.”
Even with Sebastian standing close, the rage burning in his eyes made my stomach plummet.
Mr. Byrd looked ready to kill someone with his bare hands.
But because I had the boys watching my back, he wouldn’t go after me… At least not tonight.
Chapter 10
Bianca didn’t turn up to breakfast or lunch the next day. Neither did she make an appearance at any of her classes. At dinner time, I sat in the royal table between Sebastian and Leopold. Prakash sat opposite and nudged my foot. I glanced up from my desert and gave him a saucy wink.
To our left, a pair of second-year boys scattered over to the table Barrett Riley shared with Geraldine to take their order. Will, the third year boy I’d danced with at the Hessington Hall party, leaned over from the next table and chatted with Barrett, who seemed to have gained some notoriety after his outburst.
I snatched my gaze away, not wanting to speculate as to whether Will had been one of the boys Bruce had called to help with Ashley’s pigging.
“The knights are getting too powerful,” Leopold said over his rhubarb crumble.
“That’s because we’ve been too preoccupied to rule the academy.” Sebastian put down his fork and stared at Geraldine and Barrett’s table.
“Sorry, guys,” said Prakash.
Sebastian shook his head. “We survived this shit last year with Corrine’s accusations. Once they’ve dropped the charges, we’ll be back on top.”
I broke open my chocolate bomb, releasing a torre
nt of molten sauce. The first taste was an explosion of cocoa that filled my heart with joy. This was the first time I’d been able to enjoy it without welling up about the times I’d spent dipping bars of chocolate into cups of tea with Mom.
Resting my forearms on the dining table, I asked, “How did you regain your positions last year?”
“Mostly by holding court in the common room,” said Leopold. “The royal seats are in the middle, giving everyone a prime view of our splendid selves.”
My lips curled into a smile. “On anyone else, I’d say that was arrogance.”
He swept his arms down the muscles bulging through his bottle-green blazer. “But on me, you know it’s a true assessment of our magnificence.”
Afterward, we walked up to the attic, where most students liked to retire after dinner. The sounds of televisions blared through the hallways, some of them coming from the various common rooms, and others from smaller rooms specifically set up to play the terrestrial channels.
The royal seats consisted of two leather sofas positioned opposite each other around an oak coffee table. Elegant, brass floor lamps stood on each side, providing soft illumination.
I took a seat between Prakash and Sebastian, while Leopold shouldered off his blazer and stretched out on the sofa opposite.
He cracked an eye open. “If you ever get bored of holding hands with those wankers, you can always sit on me.”
My cheeks heated, and a warm tingle shot between my legs. That face-sitting scene had been hot, and Leopold wasn’t making anything easier for me with his leering.
“Don’t you mean, sit with him?” asked Prakash.
Sebastian snorted. “Believe me, Leo meant to say ‘on.’”
Prakash turned to me with his brows raised as though to ask whether I really did that with Leopold. I clapped a hand over my mouth to cover a giggle, but instead of speaking, his face fell and then morphed into a scowl.