by G. Bailey
We all don’t move, well aware she hasn’t said who’s going first. But as she stares down the guy who had fallen asleep, it becomes clear. He groans and sulks in his chair.
“Mr Johnton, come to my desk. Miss Hall and Mr Remington, start reading.”
I pull the textbook over and flip the first page. Once I flick by the content pages, there’s a drone of boring information on tax law to begin with. How riveting. Why my mother forced me to take this class, I’ll never know. Perhaps she just wanted to bore me to death.
I look over to see Ethan concentrating hard on his reading. His eyebrows are knitted together and his white teeth are busy puncturing his lower lip. He licks the tip of his finger and turns the page, then he looks up and a cheeky grin stretches over his face when he catches me watching him.
“Why did you leave your last school? Where were you before?” he whispers to me, leaning in closer than before, his leg pressing against my own.
“How do you know I was in school? I could have been homeschooled,” I whisper back, carefully looking to the front to see Mrs Anderson is completely engrossed with lecturing Mr Johnton. The guy seems more interested in flicking his fingers off the side of her desk.
“I’m good at judging people,” he says and I don’t know if he’s being funny or real.
I can’t figure Ethan out yet and I don’t like it. Sometimes when he looks at me…it’s more than attraction. It’s like he wants to own me, and I know it because someone else used to look at me like that.
And I loved it.
As I stare at him, he looks right back, and something about him is so inexplicably familiar. I just can’t put my finger on it since I have never seen him before until now.
“I went to a school in London, near where my parents live,” I finally tell him, knowing he isn’t going to drop the subject and it’s public knowledge anyway. He could ask Daisy and she would know. I’ve already checked what information she has about me.
“Why did you move then?” he probes, spinning a pencil between his fingers, never once looking at his hand as he does so. I almost think he isn’t aware he’s doing it.
“Ask my parents, they decided it. They decide everything,” I mutter bitterly, and suddenly I realise that I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to open up to this guy, and how the fuck is he finding out everything about me and I’m finding zero information back?
Regan, get in the game! Ethan Remington is on your fucking list.
I place my hand on his forearm, just gently, enough to let him know that he has my interest. “Enough about me. Did you always come to this academy or did you go somewhere else before?”
His eyes flutter down to my hand and a little smirk pulls at his lips. “You know, our parents can only tell us what to do until we are eighteen. For me, that’s a month away. What about you?” This time I see how smoothly he moved the conversation. He’s always doing that. “Tell me when your birthday is, cutie. Maybe I can give you a little gift.” He leans in closer, leaving us a breath away as I return his wicked smirk.
“Is it little? I prefer bigger gifts, Ethan,” I whisper back and he chuckles, his eyes widening.
“Miss Hall! Mr Remington!” The teacher’s loud bellow forces us to jump away from each other. “Get back to work or you will both be in detention for the entire weekend.”
I look back down at my textbook and a frown steadily creeps onto my face. I’m so disappointed in myself. Somehow Ethan has managed to confuse and distract me when I’m supposed to be finding out information about him. This isn’t how I planned for things to go. The only game I have left is seduction, but I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy playing it with Ethan Remington.
Anne zips up my white jacket at the side of me as I tighten the collar. The material brushes my chin and holds the chest protector in place. It’s extremely hard to hold the protector on as you put the jacket over the top and do it up, and as I look around the changing rooms, the other girls are having the same issue. My hair is pulled up tight in a bun, easy for me to fit under my hat. Thankfully, the fencing uniform here doesn’t smell like sweat and God knows what other germs like they did at my last school.
I swear they never washed the helmets. In fact, I’m certain. I deliberately stained one last spring and it remained there until the day I was kicked out of the school.
My breeches are tight which is perfect for moving around. I smile a little sadly at Anne, remembering how only a year ago she could do fencing class like everyone else. Now she’s too weak and has only a hospital appointment today to look forward to.
I hate it. Almost as much as I hate the black eye she’s walking around with thanks to that douchebag Hunter. I can’t wait to get him back for that. Properly, this time.
“Perfect,” Anne comments, stepping back to admire her work; she practically insisted on helping me into my fencing uniform. “Wow, Rae. Only you could still look drop-dead wearing this getup.”
I smile, tightening the straps on my white leather gloves before picking up my mask. The thick wire is black at the front and the back is made of green leather with Holly Oak Academy written all over it.
Anne sniffs the mask and grins. “They actually wash them here then. These don’t smell like a dead animal,” she comments, and I chuckle. Thank goodness they don’t.
I watch her closely for a second. “Are you sure you want to sit this out? I know you love fencing almost as much as me. You could take it easy and—”
Anne interrupts me as she shakes her head. “No. I can’t and I only loved fencing because I got to spend time with you. Now I can watch you beat everyone’s ass.”
“I don’t know about everyone,” I mutter.
“You always hold back. I know you do,” Anne tells me and she’s right.
But not for the reasons she suspects. I always hold back because being the centre of attention isn’t good for an assassin and my mother always makes sure I know that.
‘Come in second in every test. That way no one will look twice your way’.
I hated that saying more than I ever admitted to myself, but just like with Anne, my mother’s right. No one ever looks at the person in second place all the time.
Anne and I head out of the changing rooms and into the gym. The entire floor is littered with blue mats for practice. As if I just know that they’re looking at me, my gaze drifts over to Ethan, Josh, Hunter, Nathan and Lucas who are all in this class, all standing near each other with some other students. In a line, they place their masks on, hiding their faces and there is something so creepy about how they do it while staring at me. What isn’t creepy is how fucking hot they look in their tight as hell fencing beeches and jackets. It’s like a fencing calendar, like the firefighters one I always buy for charity, with each of them lined up like this to show off their…equipment. Yeah, fire or fencing ‘equipment’.
“Welcome to Fencing everyone. My name is Mr Hines. Now, the first important question is this: Who has never fenced before?”
We all turn to see the teacher striding into the hall. He’s a short, chubby man with thick glasses and an entirely shaved big head. Can he even fence? When no one says a word, he chuckles and turns it into a full-body laugh that’s awkward as fuck when no one joins in. We all awkwardly stare between each other as Charlie’s Angels come to stand beside me.
“Who is the weirdo laughing to himself?” Charlie asks, loud enough for Mr Hines to hear.
“The fencing teacher,” I tell her.
“Oh, right. We had a teacher that could actually fence last year,” Tilda comments, and she yawns. Imogen is nowhere to be seen despite that she’s usually always with them.
I glance over the hall to find her standing next to Hunter, pulled to his side where’s she always stuck. The sight boils my blood. I need to get rid of him. ASAP.
“That’s good news,” Mr Hyena finally says after composing himself. “I would expect all of you to have brilliant talent in fencing. Now we need to find out who is the best an
d strongest student.”
I’m used to this sort of introductory spiel. I’ll just come in second like I always do. That way I’m near the top, but not actually in the lead.
“You don’t need to look far, sir, I’m right here,” Ethan shouts across the room, and all the other guys laugh. Some of the girls fawn over him. I roll my eyes and fold my arms over my chest, waiting for the lesson to actually begin.
“We will find out, Mr Remington. Now place your hand up if you want to have a practice fight and the last one standing will win my signature on all tests as a pass. You won’t have to attend this class for more than fun if you win.”
Of course, all the guys in the room shove their hands into the air while the girls try desperately to avoid his gaze. Come on, what happened to girl power? I sigh and lift my hand into the air, which seems to surprise the teacher.
“Are you sure, lovely girl?” Mr Hines asks, running his beady eyes over me.
“My name is Regan Hall or Miss hall to you. Shall we begin?” I drily answer and someone whistles although I don’t catch who.
“Go Regan! Go Regan!” Charlie shouts and several of the girls join in her chant.
That’s the kind of girl power I was looking for.
“Regan, you can go against me first. Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you, cutie,” Ethan comments, waving me over to a blue mat in the centre of the room.
“Now, now. Regan is a girl so I expect you to act like a gentleman,” Mr Hines chides him, walking over and handing me a sabre. It’s lightweight with a firm rubber grip that is moulded to the core from the feel of it. The leather cover cups my hand nicely as I head over to the mat, where Ethan is already in position. I place my one hand behind my back as I face sideward, steeling my back and watching Ethan closely, from every breath to every movement that he’ll make.
“The first one to strike, wins. No hits below the waist or above the neck. Begin.”
The teacher steps back and I don’t wait for Ethan to strike first. I slash my sabre, aiming for his arm but he swiftly jumps to the side and aims back at me. Our sabres strike against each other as we move, and I quickly notice Ethan is particularly good at this.
Not good enough, though.
I feint to the right and he falls for it, leaving himself open as I hit his left arm.
“How the fuck did you do that, cutie?” Ethan breathlessly demands, pulling off his mask. His face his flushed and he looks damn near furious. Damn if it isn’t hot.
“No one has beaten Ethan, other than me. My turn,” Hunter growls and I shrug, not giving any of them an answer as the boys continue to stare at me.
Mr Hines blows a whistle. “Only Hunter, Lucas, Josh and Regan remain. Everyone else, please sit down. Hunter and Regan, you two are up next. Lucas and Josh, you as well.”
Hunter gets into place and I just wait in the same position I started with Ethan. Hunter, as suspected, rushes straight for me with a hard hit, and it’s more than easy to dodge out of the way of the giant. All strength, no speed. And in fencing? Speed is everything. I spin around and block his hit just as he goes to make it. I push him back, surprising him I suspect from the look in his eyes, and I jump, using his shoulder as a post to somersault over his back and aim my sabre just under the nape of his neck, cutting him ever so slightly because he’s a massive dick.
“Bitch,” he growls, turning around and I try not to chuckle as he glares at me. The cheers from the girls are deafening as Mr Hines runs over and talks softly to Hunter. Poor little baby. I glance over as Joshua gets the advance on Lucas, and in one swift move, he catches his side.
“Good work, man,” Lucas says, holding a hand out to Josh. They do that weird manly shake as Joshua looks over and smirks at me.
“Now it’s time to have some fun,” he tells Lucas, who just laughs.
“How the fuck is she that good?” I hear Hunter grumble to Nathan as he tugs his brother away before he makes a scene. Nathan looks back at me, and even though he can’t see my eyes under the mask, I suspect he somehow can.
“I think Miss Regan Hall is much more than any of us know,” Nathan states, and I smile. He’s not just a pretty face.
“Ready? Don’t think I will go easy on you. You owe me,” Joshua states coldly, and I shake my head slowly. I owe him nothing. It wasn’t even me that called in his teacher/student sex life to light. Everyone has their kinks, but it’s none of my business and I have little interest in making enemies. I already have one big enemy that takes up all my time.
Truth, and his or her letters.
“Are you ready or do you want to talk all day?” I drawl and he bows his head, almost respectfully before swiftly striking.
We effortlessly move around each other, blocking blow after blow, step after step. For a fleeting moment, I really think I’ve met my match at fencing, his moves are so swift and effortless, until he hesitates. I don’t know why he does so but I take my chance to strike, hitting his shoulder. Everyone cheers as Mr Hines walks over to us and I pull off my now sweat-covered mask.
“Why…why did you hesitate?” I ask between pants, trying to catch my breath.
Joshua pulls off his own mask, and beads of sweat trickle down the side of his head, his powerful chest rising unevenly. “I didn’t. Meet me tomorrow at the fountain. Twelve o’clock. You double owe me now, Miss Hall.”
“I don’t owe you anything.”
He pays my comment no regard. “Wear something nice, darling. We’re going out for the day.”
Joshua walks away just as Mr Hines gets to my side and pats my shoulder, going on about his new star student. It’s not a win. Not really. Josh hesitated for a reason, and I need to know why. I need to know everything there is to do with Joshua Dedican so that I can eradicate him.
Josh has more than just my attention. He has my curiosity, and curiosity, according to my mother, is a dangerous vice for an assassin. It’s the next weakest thing to possess after love.
Curiosity doesn’t just kill the assassin like it does to the cat. It destroys their motives, and that, she said, is a fate worse than death.
At noon the next day, I’m almost tempted to stand Joshua up. I really don’t owe him anything and I most certainly shouldn’t be feeling curious about what he has in store for me. From the top of the stairs, I can see Joshua leaning against the fountain. He’s busy scrolling through his phone while everyone else moves around him. It’s the first time I’ve seen any of the boys out of their school uniform, and I must admit, I’m pleasantly surprised.
Joshua’s army-green polo-shirt hugs every muscle in his powerful chest, showing off the tattoos that snake around his bulging biceps. Fuck, they’re huge. He can lift me with those guns any day. When he sees me approaching, he shoves his phone into the back pocket of his jeans and winks at me.
“Right on time, darling.” He pushes off the fountain and his gold watch gleams in the light, momentarily blinding me. “I’m impressed.”
“I’m not the late kind.” I stop beside him, and damn does he smell good. “You scrub up well, Joshyboy.”
“Yeah? You ain’t half bad yourself.” He sniffs and gives my outfit a quick once over. “You always smell like pancakes and it’s fucking sexy.”
“This isn’t a date,” I remind him, which is why I chose a pink blouse and high-waisted skinny jeans instead of a sexy dress. I tucked the blouse into my jeans and it’s low enough to show ample cleavage but still classy. I want him to drool not have his tongue wagging.
“That it isn’t,” he agrees flatly, peeling his gaze off my tits. Typical. His pupils are blown and he pokes his tongue out to lick the seam of his lips. “You ready to go, darling?“
“I don’t really have a choice.”
In actual fact, I do. But I’m letting him think he has all the power here.
“You’re bad at lying, you know that?” Joshua pivots on his heel, walking towards the exit without glancing back at me. “I don’t think you’d be here if you weren’t at least interested.”
Interested in what, he doesn’t say, but he is right; I am here for a reason.
I follow Joshua out into the main courtyard. Mrs Beach is standing there with four bodyguards and two sleek SUVs.
“Here comes the calvary,” I mutter to Joshua.
He chuckles, the sound deep and sexy. “We can’t leave the academy without at least two bodyguards each. I’ve organised everything. Just get in the car.”
Now call me crazy, but there’s something about the way he orders me that has me weak in the knees. And then he goes and opens the door for me, and I half expect him to slap me on the arse when I slip inside. Or maybe I wanted him to do that.
Why did I want him to do that?
Joshua watches me pull my seatbelt on. Meanwhile, Mrs Beach hovers over him at the door and goes through her list of rules. No alcohol, always have the guards with you, the usual boring stuff. Once she’s finished, Joshua sits beside me, two of the guards slide into the front, and we hit the road with the rest of the entourage following behind.
It’s hard not to notice the way Joshua’s arm and leg brushes against my own. Whatever aftershave he’s wearing is extremely intoxicating. I open the window in the hopes to smack some sense into me again.
Enough.
Plan of action time.
I don’t know what Joshua has in store for me but every opportunity is a blessing. The only thing is, we’ve got to have bodyguards with us at all times. How am I supposed to kill Joshua with so many witnesses? I might be able to take out one or two of the guards, but four? It’s more hassle than it’s worth. Truth and his precious tick-tock clock will have to wait a bit longer.
“So where are we going?” I ask Joshua again, glancing out the window to see if I can pick up any clues. “I know we’re going into town. But what for?”