“You probably didn’t have it with you in the first place,” the girl to my left says without looking up.
Blood rushes in my ears as my heart pounds faster. My stomach imitates a carnival ride. I think I might be sick.
Their snide dismissal grates and I’m reminded that I’m still not welcome here.
“I wouldn’t just misplace my bag. It’s got my wallet, my homework, and my stuff.”
My camera and three lenses are in it, too, but I leave that out. Not knowing where my bag went sends my thoughts spiraling, and an itch digs its way under my skin—I need to get up and tear through the school to find it. I know it was there when I returned from the bathroom. The only other time I wasn’t paying attention was when I fell asleep.
Shit.
I think someone stole it. Glancing around, my suspicion only grows when I catch a few people’s intent gazes. It’s like they’re waiting for me to blow up.
At the front of the room, Mrs. Ellis thumbs through the stack of worksheets.
“Gemma, do you have yours?” she asks.
“I, uh…” I feel the stares of Elena and the others. It'll only make me seem crazy if I start throwing around accusations about my missing bag. I lie instead. “I don’t have it with me.”
“It’s not like you not to hand in your work, Miss Turner.”
“I know. I’ll, um. I’ll have it tomorrow for a late mark. Sorry.”
She levels me with a disappointed frown that sits uneasily. I’m not the most studious person, but I’m not a slacker, either. I do my work.
“Very well.” Mrs. Ellis checks the time and takes a seat at her desk. “Your assignment for tonight is on the board.”
Once the bell rings, I’m out of my seat like a shot.
“I’m sure it’ll turn up,” Elena calls.
A sick weight makes my stomach heavy. I cram my hands beneath my arms to keep them from trembling with the nervous energy bubbling over.
My bag isn’t in my locker. I knew it wouldn’t be, but I had to do something. I head for the office to check the lost and found.
It must have been stolen when I was napping in class. I could kick myself for letting my guard down. Lucas is behind this somehow—either directly or indirectly, his influence is definitely at work.
I was stupid to think he was done with me.
As I enter the office, I collide with someone as he’s entering at the same time. I catch myself on the doorway.
“In a hurry?”
It’s Lucas and Devlin’s friend. The junior who is the varsity soccer captain. His angelic features distract me from my dilemma for a second.
“Connor, is that you?” Principal Bishop calls from his open door at the back of the hive of administrative offices. “Come in, your mother wants us to grab lunch together before the appointment.”
He’s the principal’s son? Brows raised, my gaze swings back. Connor winks at me and slips by, casting a solemn glance at the secretary desk. As he steps through to his dad’s office, he shuts the door behind him with a bang.
Shaking my head, I hurry over to the circular desk at the center of the room run by office aid volunteers and a rotation of secretaries.
“Devlin?” I blink. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
Devlin props his chin in one hand and gives me a cheeky smile. “Why not?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Don’t tell anyone,” he leans over and gestures me closer, “but office aid is the best elective. I get to flirt with the staff, eat donuts, and sneak into Principal Bishop’s office.”
“Uh, that’s great.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Has anything new come into the lost and found?”
“Misplace something?” A sly grin stretches his lips. “Or are you looking for good shit to steal?”
My lips press into a thin line.
“My bag is missing. It’s a messenger bag. Brown leather.”
Devlin shrugs and waves at the box in the corner.
“Have at it. I just got here.” He reclines in his chair and kicks his legs onto the desk, crossing his ankles. “Want me to make an announcement?”
I dig through the box, setting aside designer sunglasses, outerwear, and a few cell phones. For a second, a brown bag catches my eye, igniting my excited relief like a rocket, but when I drag it out, it’s just a backpack.
With a sigh, I drop everything back in the box.
“No luck?” Devlin spins in his chair, his dark hair fanning with each rotation. He tips his head upside down to meet my eyes. “What a shame. I’ll keep a personal eye out for it. Devlin’s on the case.”
“Thanks anyway.”
As I turn to leave, I find Blair in the doorway with a slip of paper pinched between her fingers. Her pretty brown eyes turn to slits when she zeroes in on Devlin.
“I was called to the office,” she says.
Devlin sits upright. There’s a cruel shift in his expression, his brows lowering and the corners of his mouth ticking up.
“Davis. You were caught stealing from the kitchens.” He twirls a pen around his thumb in a repetitive motion. “Put your paper in this tray while I fill out your ISS form.”
“Suspension?” I yelp. Surely this school can afford to spare some extra apples. “That’s not fair.”
Devlin flicks a disinterested look my way. Blair stalks into the office and crumples her paper before dropping it on Devlin. It ricochets from the desk and hits him in the chest. Grumbling under his breath, he swipes the paper ball and smooths it out.
“Better run along, Turner. You have a bag to look for, and—” Devlin pauses and points up. The second bell rings. “—you’re late for class.”
“Can you write us late slips?” I cross my arms and stand beside Blair. “We have study hall together this period.”
A muscle in Devlin’s jaw jumps. Where the hell did this severe attitude come from? When I see him around Lucas, he’s usually carefree and relaxed. There’s hardly anything that gets to him.
“It’s fine, Gemma, just go ahead,” Blair mumbles. She cuts a hateful look to Devlin as he fills in the suspension paperwork. Sighing, she nudges me. “I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Okay…” Something tells me not to leave, so I retreat with slow steps. “Keep an eye out for my bag, will you? It’s missing.”
The emphasis I put on the word has Blair’s brows shooting up. I shrug helplessly. She nods and waves me away.
As I exit the office, I hear Devlin’s words to Blair.
“The next time you cross us, I’ll make you regret being born, Davis. Don’t try your petty pickpocket bullshit again, or I’ll have you kicked out of school.”
I pause outside the door and glance back. Blair’s teeth are bared and Devlin looks ready to shoot fire from his eyes. The tension between them crackles in the air, reaching all the way into the hallway.
Part of me wants to hang around to give my friend back up, but a teacher strolling through the hall sees me standing there.
“What are you doing out of class? Move along.”
I have no choice but to make my way to the auditorium. The sick roil still makes my stomach feel like lead as I go there without my missing bag.
I need to find it.
* * *
I check everywhere.
As the minutes tick by throughout the day I grow more frazzled. Classes drag as my knees bounce. Cruel laughter and whispers follow me everywhere.
Between every class I stalk through the halls of the huge campus and confront anyone who looks at my twice. No one has answers.
All I earn for my trouble is more frustration and rude snickers.
By last period, I break down and check Instagram. If the whole school knows, then that means there’s a clue and I need to find my bag.
Sure enough, I have a bunch of tags when I open up the app in the bathroom. My stomach tightens and drops like cement through water as I tap on a few of the notifications flooding my feed.
@brightg
em give me $50 & a blowjob for ur bag.
Saw this gutter troll digging through the trash. Hear she’s buds with Raggedy Anne #yikes #silverlakehs #theyremultiplying. In this photo: @brightgem.
@brightgem found what you’re missing right here baby. #8inches #nolie [wink emoji] [eggplant emoji].
This last one is a photo of a guy’s abs and the trail of hair leading into his low waistband tugged down to tease his junk.
A disgusted scoff drops from my lips. In a last ditch effort, I clear my notifications and navigate to Lucas’ account.
(What? I’m not a stalker like him. I’ve looked once or twice. Just to see who I was dealing with. You can tell a lot about a person by their social media habits.)
There’s a new photo. A selfie. He’s smirking at the viewer with nice backlighting leaking across the photo. Morning light, I note with narrowed eyes. The caption reads:
@GoldSaint: All things lost will be found again. To catch a kitten, set a tasty lure #herekittykitty.
Bastard. He’s a goddamn monster. This is all a mean joke to him, but that camera is more important to me than anything.
With a bitten off sound, I swipe out of the app. I’ve seen enough. I wait in the bathroom until the final bell rings, then shove the door open to get the hell out of this cesspool of heartless greed.
“There goes the crazy angry chick.”
Ignoring the group of douchebags, I shove the doors open with my backside, burdened by a stack of books from my locker. Students shoot me open looks as we head en masse for the parking lot.
If I can’t find my bag…I don’t even want to think about it. I have to find it.
That camera is my lifeline.
Blair caught up with me later in the afternoon and helped me retrace my anxious steps. She reminded me not to let these assholes get to me, but the advice fell flat when she was gritting her teeth from being slapped with an in school suspension for taking an extra carton of milk.
I hike my heavy stack of books higher as I go down the steps to the parking lot. Right about now I’m regretting parking at the very back corner. My biceps burn with the effort of holding my stuff.
I’m a little winded by the time I reach the car. A little groan of relief passes my lips and I rest my load on the bumper. Thankfully Alec has the car keys. If they’d been in my bag that would have made a sucky situation even worse.
It’s bad enough as it is.
My heart hangs heavy with a well of emotion that makes my throat scratchy. I suck in a deep gulp of air to hold back the tears threatening to burst free.
After the short break, I readjust my stack of books so I can put them on the hood. As I round the back of the car, I stop with a sharp breath.
Lucas leans against the CR-V.
He holds up my bag with a lazy smirk.
“Looking for this?”
Tears prick my eyes as I release a watery gasp.
The crash of emotions is hard to pick apart between the annoyance at his existence and the balm of relief to find my bag safe and sound. My shoulders sag and I close the distance between us.
“Give me that. How did you even get it?” I shake my head as soon as the words leave my mouth. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. You’re an asshole, by the way.”
A laugh puffs out of him. “Hello to you, too.”
I grapple with my cumbersome books and finally squat to dump them on the ground. I pop back up and blow hair out of my face.
Lucas doesn’t offer up my bag. When I grab for it, he holds it out of reach. My gut twists and I pummel his chests with a fierce yell.
“Don’t drop it!” I lift my hands, trying to reach. “Come on.”
Lucas wraps an arm around my waist and tugs me against his body. He’s warm and I can smell the forest-clean scent of his aftershave. His fingers dance over my back, sliding beneath my school blazer.
“Give me a kiss and you can have your things back.”
A bolt of indignation shoots up my spine and I grunt as I try to claw my bag away from him. He holds it higher and I grow more pissed.
“Damn it, Lucas!”
He chuckles, low and smoky. Every shift brings the hard curve of his pecs and the firm planes of his stomach against me. His bicep ripples and bunches as he adjusts his hold on me. Fuck, why does he have to smell so good?
“Give me a kiss,” he demands.
“That’s coerced consent. It’s not real consent.” Tired of stretching, I rest my hands on his shoulders. He stares into my eyes and I gulp. Reflexively, I spit out, “Fuck you.”
Lucas chuckles again, his mouth curving into a cocksure smile. He releases me and has no trouble keeping me at arm’s length as he paws through my bag.
“I know you’re behind this.”
“Prove it.”
I grit my teeth. Damn him.
“The Instagram post.”
“Oh yeah? I heard my friend’s cat was missing. That has nothing to do with you, kitten.”
“If you pull this shit again, I’m not going to turn the other cheek,” I promise through my teeth. “You’re pissing me off. I’ll get you back.”
“I eagerly await sweet retribution from you.”
He’s not even paying attention to me.
“Don’t—” I cut myself off when he pulls out my camera. I chew on my lip, struggling with how to get my stuff back without giving up a piece of myself. I don’t want to let him know how much that camera means to me, though I suspect he must have some idea. Maybe he figured it out from Alec. “It’s fragile.”
“And expensive,” Lucas comments in a distracted tone. “I looked it up.”
The energy racing through my body is hard to contain. I force myself to stand still while Lucas fiddles with the settings. He points it and snaps a few frames.
“I suggest you reconsider your refusal,” he says as he clicks through the pictures he took. “I let Alec into my circle, but I can shut him out just as easily.”
I suck my lips between my teeth and cast a glance to the side. He’s serious. I guess Lucas has no qualms about destroying my brother to get to me.
“Or,” Lucas drawls, setting my camera safely on the hood as he turns back to me. The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smile. “I’ll just kidnap you again. This time I really will keep you to myself instead of going easy on you. Maybe when I’m done, I’ll drop you off in the mountains to find your own way home.”
“Easy on me?” My question comes out as an incredulous laugh. “God, you’re infuriating.”
I still haven’t forgiven Lucas for kidnapping me. He’s such a crazy asshole.
In a blink, Lucas traps me against the car. He won’t let me escape this time without a kiss. I swallow and lick my lips. His eyes fall to my mouth and he mirrors the gesture.
“You’re really going to force me?” I whisper.
Lucas grunts and narrows his eyes. He pushes his hand in my hair, twisting the strands around his fingers. Then all at once he steps back.
When he makes no other moves to trap me, I dart to my camera and cradle it to my body. Lucas remains quiet as I check it for any signs of tampering. Everything seems in order and nothing else is missing from my bag.
For the first time since it disappeared, I feel like the tension in my muscles unwinds. It leaves me with a heavy exhaustion as the build up of adrenaline burns off.
Lucas tucks his hands in his pockets and regards me with an unreadable expression. With his tailored uniform, he looks more like a model than a high school student. His hair flops over his eyes when he tilts his head forward.
The beep of the car locks disengaging makes me startle out of the trance. Alec must be close.
I open the back door to stow my belongings, keeping my camera on me. Lucas hovers behind me, his body heat seeping into the back of my blazer. I look over my shoulder and bite my lip.
Lucas props one hand on the roof to support his weight, towering over me.
“I’m not your trophy to win, Lucas. So give
it up already.” His jaw tics and the corners of his mouth turn down. I scoff and cut my gaze to the side. “I’m never going to want you.”
“We’ll see about that, sweetheart.”
When I look up, Lucas is gone.
Alec walks over and gives me a what are you doing look when I just stand there. “Get in, or I’ll leave your ass here.”
On the ride home my limbs jitter restlessly. Alec shoots me a dour glance when my knee bounces. I chew on my thumb and stare into the middle distance as my thoughts race back and forth, caught between how much I hate Lucas and how much I underestimated him.
I thought he would lose interest in me eventually.
Was I wrong?
Thirteen
Gemma
When my last period of the day lets out, instead of heading for the exit, I make my way to my history teacher’s office. They called my name on the intercom as the bell rang to see him after school.
A sea of black blazers, silk ties, and plaid skirts fight me as I navigate the halls against the flow of traffic, the other students antsy to leave school.
I have so much homework to do this weekend. I make a mental tally and organize the list into efficient chunks to tackle.
Lucas has been texting me all day with disgusting pick up lines and it’s getting old. I scroll through my phone and another pops up at the top of my screen.
Lucas: The school skirt is hot on you. It would look better on my floor.
Stupid jerk.
A beam of sunlight catches my eye through a window and I pause to admire it. The natural light of golden hour is my favorite to shoot. I’m itching to get outside to see what I can capture through my lens.
“Hopefully this won’t take long,” I mumble as I head into the locker room.
Coach Garcia’s office sits in the hall between the girl’s and boy’s locker rooms. I pause outside his door.
The lights are off inside. I try the door, but it’s locked.
“Then why the hell…”
Wicked Saint: Sinners and Saints Book 1 Page 8