by Sofia Daniel
Kendrick’s lips curled into a smile. “Have I touched a nerve?”
“Only the one that operates my gag reflex.” I turned back to the window. “Looking at you for too long makes me nauseous.”
The large figure reflected at my side slumped his shoulders, but I was too busy watching Mr. Burgh speak with Father Neapolitan to consider what the action might mean. If my grandfather was anything like me, he would floor that sanctimonious rapist with a punch in the gut.
Streams of children, too excited by the festivities to see where they were going, formed tightly-knit crowds that were impossible to penetrate. A few of them even lingered at the door, blocking our way.
By now, most of the children and staff had streamed out of the building, leaving Elizabeth holding the collection pouch. She glanced over her shoulder at the priest and headmaster, then beckoned two younger boys close.
“What is she doing?” I whispered.
Kendrick stepped so close, his body heat radiated through the back of my coat. “Elizabeth takes the collection every—.”
“Look.” I elbowed him in the ribs to pay attention. Elizabeth reached into the bag’s depths, pulled out a handful of five, ten, and twenty-pound notes, and offered them to the two boys.
After glancing at the talking men, the shorter of the boys took the cash and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. Elizabeth nodded at them and walked to the front of the church, while the two boys strolled toward the exit.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked Kendrick.
“I have no idea,” he replied.
“You have to know,” I said. “What does she usually do with the collection money?”
He reared back. “Do you think I condone stealing?”
“You condone lying, making false reports to the police, and letting your brother fuck girls disguised as you.”
Kendrick winced. I couldn’t even feel a surge of triumph because the girl Maxwell had screwed over was me.
A little voice in the back of my head told me to focus on the big picture. Petty victories meant nothing in the face of the opportunity to bring about Elizabeth’s downfall. I stopped running my mouth and stared into Kendrick’s eyes, waiting for a response.
His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. “Elizabeth has a way of making one believe that everything she does is for an overall good.”
I clamped my lips together, holding back my urge to tell him to stop using the moral compass of a deranged, narcissistic sociopath and grow a backbone.
Instead, I said, “Let’s hope you’re serious about getting even with Elizabeth because I’m sure stealing from the church is worse than anything I’ve ever done.”
Kendrick nodded.
I turned my attention to the entrance, where the two boys walked out at the end of the crowd with Elizabeth in tow. Bickering with Kendrick could wait. For now, we needed to find out why in the holy highlands Elizabeth needed to steal the collection money to pay off two younger boys.
Chapter 13
The sun disappeared behind a gray cloud, casting our side of the chapel’s exterior in semi-gloom. The next time I turned to the window, Father Neapolitan and Mr. Burgh squared up to each other like a pair of MMA fighters.
All thoughts of chasing after Elizabeth flew into the breeze, and a knot tightened in my stomach. Did Mr. Burgh need back up? He was over fifty, and the psycho priest was in his thirties…
I turned to Kendrick, whose eyes bulged. “Bloody hell!”
“What?” I turned back to the chapel window to find Mr. Burgh standing over a fallen Father Neapolitan. The old man swung his foot back and booted the priest in the gut, who curled into himself and spasmed.
My mouth fell open. I locked gazes with Kendrick, calculating whether to let my grandfather dole out a justified punishment, when he grabbed my arm and rushed in the direction of the front doors.
By now, most of the children had left the chapel, but that didn’t stop them from hanging around the front doors like a crowd of old ladies shuffling out from a relaxing morning of gossip and tea.
“Wait!” I yanked Kendrick back. “If we barrel through those kids, they’ll follow after us and become witnesses to assault.”
“We’ll approach from the back, then.” He turned on his heel and jogged down the side of the chapel.
I ran to keep up with Kendrick’s pace, my heart clenching at the thought of Mr. Burgh suffering a humiliating arrest. That was the trouble with hot-blooded revenge. The police only cared about the assault under their noses and didn’t give a shit that it was justified.
By the time we bolted through the back door and down the hallway, Father Neapolitan’s whispered pleas of mercy sent tremors of disgust over my skin. In the chapel, Mr. Burgh sat in his usual pew watching over the priest shuddering and crying at the altar.
He glanced up at me, his face stricken. “We agreed you wouldn’t come.”
“I wanted to confront him outside.” I continued toward Mr. Burgh and sat beside him on the pew.
“What’s going on?” asked Kendrick.
“Mr. Deloraine,” rasped Father Neapolitan. “Call Lady Liddell. She must know—”
“What,” I snapped. “That you fell over after drinking too much communion wine?”
He turned toward us, his face streaked with tears. “I conduct a teetotal life of abstinence.”
“All the reason why the wine would go to your head.”
Kendrick glanced from me to the fallen priest, his face a mask of confusion. With a sigh, he offered Father Neapolitan his hand. “Let me help you up.”
The older man slapped it away. “When Lady Liddell hears of this, you and Abigail’s bastard child will be on the street!”
With a snarl, Mr. Burgh shot to his feet and rushed at Father Neapolitan with his fists balled. I stood, not knowing whether I should hold my grandfather back or slam my boot into the crying bastard’s throat.
Kendrick stepped between us with his palms raised. “Sir, please stop.”
They were both of a similar height with Mr. Burgh a little taller than Kendrick, but where my grandfather was lean, Kendrick had the bulk of an athlete. Not that I was checking him out at a time like this… or at any time. Because Kendrick was an asshole. But I’d seen his identical twin in various states of undress and could scientifically assume Kendrick had the same physique. That’s all.
Mr. Burgh deflated. “I need to walk off this anger before returning home.”
I swallowed hard. “Alright.”
Mr. Burgh walked out through the back entrance.
As soon as the door slammed shut, Father Neapolitan scrambled to his feet. He clutched a handkerchief to his nose and glared at me through watery, blue eyes. “The headmaster was always a man beset by demons, but his mental state has deteriorated since you darkened his door.”
Frowning, Kendrick glanced from the priest to me.
I clenched my teeth. “We have enough evidence to ruin you.”
“What?” Father Neapolitan stepped back.
“Worthless prick.” I jerked forward, making Father Neapolitan flinch. It was a stupid, childish move used by ten-year-old playground bullies, but the sight of his fear gave me a taste of the satisfaction to come.
Raising my head high, I spun on my heel and walked through the back of the chapel and out into the winter morning. Icy wind blew strands of platinum hair into my face. I raised my hood, fastened my top button, and walked down the side of the track, past Father Neapolitan’s Matrix car.
My fingers itched to run a key down the side of its sleek, black bodywork. Instead, I stuffed my hands in my pockets, not wanting to give the asshole another reason to get me into trouble.
Behind me, the door creaked open and shut, then Kendrick’s footsteps approached. He grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.
“Don’t touch me,” I snarled.
“What did you say to Mr. Burgh?” asked Kendrick.
I jerked away from his grip and continued toward the paddocks that
led to the driveway. “There’s something seriously wrong with you.”
“What?”
“You assume everything is my fault. Anyone would think you were obsessed.”
“Then explain why a well-respected headmaster would attack a priest.”
A laugh bubbled out of my throat. Kendrick was the last person I would hand over a family secret.
“Lilah,” he snapped.
I whirled around. “What do you want?”
“I deserve an explanation after convincing Father Neapolitan not to call the authorities.”
“That fucker wouldn’t want the police anywhere near his skeletons.”
He stopped dead in his tracks and gaped. “Did he touch you?”
The note of concern in his voice resonated with my heart. I jerked my head to the side and squeezed my eyes shut as though that might tamp down the deluge of love and hurt and betrayal that kept surging up at the worst moments.
This had to be the aspect of Kendrick’s personality Maxwell had mimicked during his elaborate deception. Too much was happening right now for me to dredge up the hurt of getting to know someone—getting to feel something for them, only to discover the person was a sham.
One cold, deep breath calmed my emotions, another made them numb. I opened my eyes. “Do you know those boys?”
Kendrick stared down at me as though I’d sprouted tusks. Pale streams of sunlight colored the ends of his mahogany hair a deep bronze. How I hated his straight nose, those high cheekbones, and strong jaw.
“The boys who accepted the collection money Elizabeth stole,” I snapped. “Who are they?”
He frowned. “Fifth years, but—”
“If you’re serious about getting even with Elizabeth, there’s your chance.” I tore my gaze away from his. Without the twist of hatred and annoyance, he looked too much like the boy from last term. “Find out what those boys have on her and use that instead of unearthing distant relatives to steal her title.”
Kendrick’s nostrils flared. I rolled my eyes and walked away. He didn’t follow, and I hoped he had taken the short route back to the academy. Behind me in the distance, I thought I heard the slamming of a door. A quick glance over my shoulder found Father Neapolitan exiting the chapel.
“Shit.” I picked up my pace and hurried to the end of the track.
The cough of his ignition and the growl of his engine set my teeth on edge. A bead of sweat trickled down my brow. I had threatened to expose him. If this was Richley and I’d threatened to expose a rapist, I’d fully expect him to mow me down in his car.
Up ahead stood a post and rail fence that sectioned off a frost-covered paddock. Behind, the gravel rumbled from the car reversing out of its parking space. Father Neapolitan revved his engine, making my heart rate skyrocket.
Fuck pride.
Fuck trying to look cool.
Feeling the heat of the car’s engine on my back, and the roar of its accelerator in my ears, I broke into a sprint, scrambled over the fence, landed on my hands and knees, and leaped to the side. Father Neapolitan swerved at the last minute and sped down the track.
“Bloody. Fucking. Hell!”
Picking myself off the ground and breathing like a racehorse, I gaped at the retreating car.
I didn’t need a degree in criminology to determine Father Neapolitan’s guilt. That attempt to intimidate or mow me down was an admission that the black-hearted bastard had something to hide.
Chapter 14
I stood in that paddock like a scarecrow looking for signs of Father Neapolitan’s return. Cold wind blew across my clammy skin. I pulled my hood back over my head and wiped off the droplets of sweat that had gathered on my brow during the…
How could I describe it? A tantrum, intimidation, or attempted murder? Moments ago it felt like he wanted to wipe my existence off the face of Templar.
“Shit.” I stared into the empty track. Only the sound of wind rustling in the distant woods was my answer.
The clouds parted further, letting in the light. The barest specks of snow swirled in the wind, but enough had settled on the ground to blanket it in white. My boots made a satisfying crunch on the frost as I took the long route back through the paddock, which avoided the kennels and the dogs’ infernal barking.
I needed to find Mr. Burgh and find out what the hell Father Neapolitan had said to him. It had to have been something really terrible. I reached under my hood and scratched my head. The statute of limitations on debts was six years. Maybe the same applied to rape, and the priest tried to throw this in Mr. Burgh’s face.
The sound of approaching hoofbeats broke me out of my thoughts. I raised my head to find a rider in black galloping toward me on a white horse.
A shiver of apprehension ran down my spine. I wasn’t supposed to cut through paddocks, but there was no telling if Father Neapolitan would return in his car.
“You there,” shouted a familiar voice.
As she came close, I groaned and continued walking but it was no use. Elizabeth overtook me in seconds and pointed her horse whip between my eyes. “You’re trespassing.”
I batted the offending item out of my face. “And you planted crap in my room, got me arrested, and stole my dress.”
Elizabeth smirked. “I’d like to see you prove it.”
Her horse blew out a long, snorting breath accompanied by a huge cloud of condensation.
Clenching my teeth, I continued across the paddock toward the driveway that led to the academy and the headmaster’s quarters. “Maybe I’ll do more than that.”
By now, Kendrick might have caught up with those two boys and discovered why Elizabeth had given them the stolen collection money.
Yanking on her reins, the wretched rider circled around me on her white horse, looking like a harbinger of the apocalypse.
“What do you mean?” she shouted over the horse’s neigh of protest.
“Haven’t you got anything better to do?” I snapped. “If you were in a car, this would be curb-crawling.”
“That would make sense, since you’re a whore.” She leaned toward me, emphasizing the last word.
Irritation fizzled across my skin. “Why aren’t you in your country manor having Sunday lunch with mater and pater? Have they disowned you for passing off your mother’s wedding dress as your own creation?” I tapped my chin and glanced skyward. “Or maybe they were disgusted by your flagrant misuse of police resources to settle a schoolgirl vendetta.”
Elizabeth bared her teeth. “What would a guttersnipe like you know about family?”
“Not as much as a spoiled princess who uses hers as a crutch to get through life.” My hands curled into fists, and I trudged onwards, the driveway getting closer with each step. In a hundred feet, I’d be free of this wench.
“How dare you?” She raised her horse whip.
Before she could land a strike, I grabbed her by the jacket and dragged her off the horse. With a shriek, Elizabeth fell to the ground. The horse bolted across the paddock, leaving her without a mount. As I landed a hard kick in her stomach. Elizabeth made a twisting, scissoring movement with her legs and brought me down.
I dropped on my side like a felled log and met her furious, blue eyes.
“You bitch.” She yanked at my hair.
“Fuck off.” My fist landed straight in Elizabeth’s pasty face. Her head snapped back, and the air filled with a banshee cry.
If this was Richley, I’d have straddled her chest and pummeled the acne off her face, but the Board of Governors had already put me on suspension. One more Elizabeth-related misdemeanor and I’d have to kiss Templar academy goodbye.
With a pang of regret, I placed my palms on the frosty ground to push myself up, but Elizabeth dove onto my back like a WWE wrestler.
“I hate you.” Her grimy hands wove into my hair, and she slammed my face into the cold, hard soil. “Whore!”
Spitting the frost off my lips, I reared back, making her topple to the side. “And you’re a prick
tease.”
As I righted myself, Elizabeth flipped me on my back and sat on my torso. All the air left my lungs in a single whoosh. No matter how much I punched and shoved at her shoulders, she wouldn’t budge.
“Get off me, you freak!” I scratched at her face, but she jerked out of reach.
Fuck. I could barely breathe with Elizabeth bouncing on me like I was her personal space hopper. The bitch also had the strength of unmedicated insanity on her side. It completely outweighed my measly self-preservation.
“You want to know why I despise you?” she snarled, spraying warm droplets of spittle on my face.
“Don’t care.” I rammed my fist in her gut, making her grunt.
“Sluts like you walk around my academy like you’re its queen.” She grabbed a handful of my hair and wrenched my head to the side.
Wincing, I scratched at her wrists, but it was like she could no longer feel pain. “What?”
“And you’re an attention seeker. When you enter the room, everybody stares.”
“That’s because you keep glaring at me, you stupid cow.”
Her blue eyes blazed with manic fury. “And you know the worst part?”
“It can’t be as bad as stealing money from the church,” I snarled.
The fingers of Elizabeth’s other hand tightened around my hair. Growling and glaring, she burned my bravado with the strength of her glower. This was no normal fight. I bucked and thrashed, trying to throw her off, but her muscular thighs tightened around my torso.
And then she crashed her lips onto mine.
All the blood drained from my face, and my soul tried to escape from my body. What. The. Bloody. Fuck?
I punched at her head, but she kept her lips locked in place. Her hate-filled stare bore into mine, and hot, angry breaths heaved from her nostrils. I tried jerking my head away, but the crazy bitch’s hands clamped my head into place.
Every instinct in my body told me to scream, to attract the attention of somebody, anybody who could rip this clingy limpet off my body. But I kept my jaws and lips and teeth clamped together in case she stuck her tongue into my mouth.