‘I’m not ashamed from anything in my past.’
That much was true. A lot of awful shit had happened to me, and around me, but I wasn’t ashamed of it. I was still alive, still going. I hadn’t given up.
‘Not ashamed of any of it?’ Emma looked at me knowingly. ‘Not about losing your virginity to your brother? Or what happened with your dad?’
‘Foster brother,’ I said. ‘And foster dad. It wasn’t incest.’ I replied automatically, but my brain wasn’t thinking about anything other than that night. The blood. The trial. The sentencing.
If my nightmares ever changed from the visions of the Mors Exercitus now that I could dream of something other than the little brown house, I knew they would feature Christian and that night.
Emma knew she’d found a weak point in my armour. I didn’t know how she’d found out – unless her cop dad had something to do with it. It was different districts, but cops liked to talk and if I’d upset his girl, by beating up her ass, it was likely he’d want to crack open that casefile he’d not bothered to delve into when he interviewed me about my motorcycle accident. But it wasn’t like anything was hidden. Emma could likely find out everything herself if she did a little digging. My name had been in the papers along with Christian’s. The fact we were minors was what made the story even more enticing for the media. Even though I felt that, legally, that should have stopped them.
I’d been trying to think of a retort, trying to overcome the knot in my stomach and my swimming vision Emma bringing up that awful part of my history had triggered, when the door opened, hitting Lisa and Hope in the back and knocking them forward.
Emerson appeared from the other side.
‘You said you’d be back for lunch,’ Emerson said. ‘Gi’s worrying about you.’
‘This is- this is the girl’s toilets!’ Lisa stuttered.
‘Ah, I was wondering what that sign on the front meant. Thought it might be a bit of modern art. Are you coming, love?’ Emerson asked me.
I hadn’t been planning on staying, so I quickly made my way to the exit. Emerson didn’t turn to leave until I was out of the room.
‘Oh, and Emma – if you try and mess with Gi or Olivia, you’ll be crossing me. You really don’t want to do that.’ He practically growled.
I thought I’d seen him angry with the shit he pulled with me in class, but it turned out that wasn’t even close. Now… now he was pissed.
Emerson let the door swing shut on them.
‘What was that about?’
Emerson smirked. All traces of anger had disappeared, like they had never been there in the first place. ‘That? I thought that was your plan: stop Emma from messing with Gi so she can be part of the musical.’
‘That wasn’t about Gi. And you didn’t just defend her in there.’
‘I pulled you out of a shite situation, love. Planning on thanking me for it?’
‘No.’
‘Planning on telling me what Emma was threatening you with?’
‘No.’
‘I’d say we haven’t got much more to talk about, then, wouldn’t you?’
I couldn’t very well demand answers like: how had you found me? How long had you been listening before you stepped in? Why had you stepped in? When I wasn’t willing to answer his. So, I kept quiet. But he sure as hell wasn’t making it easy.
At lunch, Jenny was asking me a million and one questions about Nowak and my new car. Apparently, Gi had let it slip last night in the group chat. I’d muted it and had tried to have an early night, knowing I would likely wake up restless thanks to my strange dreams.
Jenny was now wondering whether Emerson had a rival for my affections. I’d gagged at her suggestion – both that Emerson was ever a contender for my affections or thinking about Nowak like that. He was like my big brother. The type who looked at you like you were dirt on his shoe most of the time, but if he needed to would probably kill for you.
‘He’s just a friend,’ I said (for the millionth time).
‘I didn’t think you did friends, love,’ Emerson teased me.
I gave him a pointed stare and threw my empty water bottle at him. Surprise, surprise, he caught it before it hit him in the head.
‘Gi said that he totally looked like he was part of a gang,’ Jenny told Emerson and the rest of the AA Team. ‘Like, tattoos and everything.’
I rolled my eyes at her. ‘Tattoos don’t make you part of a gang.’ Even though since he was part of Ali’s gang, he actually was. ‘I have a tattoo.’
Gi hung her mouth open, ‘you’re kidding?’
‘You do not!’ Jenny squealed. ‘You’re not even eighteen yet!’
‘There’s this little thing called a fake ID…’
Martha rolled her eyes at all of this. She was tapping away at her phone, updating her many social media accounts whilst keeping track of everything that was being said. I was half under the impression that she might have been live tweeting this whole conversation. Who on earth would find anything we said interesting outside this circle? I had no clue. I couldn’t even understand why it was interesting within this circle.
‘So, is he your boyfriend?’ Jenny asked, waggling her eyebrows.
‘No,’ I said. I would have probably denied it with less venom in my tone if Emma hadn’t brought up my relationship with Christian not an hour ago. I was still sore over that. I didn’t like to have those memories forced upon me.
‘I always assumed you’d be the type of girl to go for an older guy,’ Robbie said, continuing the theme of my romantic interests.
Martha snorted. ‘Really, how much pondering have you been doing about Liv’s love life?’
Jenny crossed her arms, possibly at the thought that Robbie might be interested in me in that way. Robbie tried to fervently deny it. We all knew he was just teasing me, Martha just liked to push it so that it seemed more like an insult to Jenny than a jab at banter with me.
Gi tried to change the subject away from boys, ever the peacemaker. She settled on begging to know what my tattoo was. Pretty soon, they were all interested to know – even Martha and Emerson, though I thought both their interest was likely so they could mock me about my choice of ink.
I’d lied and told Gi I would let her check it out after school with my new car, just to shut them up.
I’d been halfway through last period when I’d gotten a message telling me I was wanted at the reception. I left class with a pass, leaving my stuff at my desk. I never took my laptop with me to school, so I didn’t feel like I was risking anything being stolen. I took my jacket, which had my wallet and phone in, and walked out of class.
When I got to the reception, there was no one in sight except for the receptionist who was – seriously? – busy painting her nails.
‘I got a voice announcement telling me to come to the reception,’ I said.
The receptionist ignored me for five minutes before finally looking up. ‘Name?’ Her voice was the same one I’d heard over the announcement. She was just being facetious.
‘Olivia Morgan.’
She handed me a note giving me directions to one of the buildings in the old wing of the school.
‘What’s this about?’
She shrugged again. The note was written on the school’s official stationary, like the papers in the principal’s office, and the ones sent out to homes. It was typed, but wasn’t signed by any department.
I followed the directions and entered the room mentioned in the note. I started to have a bad feeling as soon as I entered the area of the building on the map I’d not previously been to before. The wing was currently not in use. It was once the school’s rec-room, but last year the funding was pulled before it was even half-way refurbished. The Cheer crowd were constantly running fund-raisers to get the rest of the money.
As soon as I stepped into the room, the door slammed shut behind me and I heard the sound of a lock being closed.
‘What the f-’
‘You really should have
listened to me,’ Emma said. It was through the closed door, but I could hear her fairly well.
‘This is your payback? Locking me in a room. Wow. I’m impressed. It’s a mastermind plan and a half,’ I said.
I waited for her to respond, but she didn’t. She’d already walked away. I tried the handle and tested the strength of the door. It was a fire door and didn’t budge when I slammed my shoulder up against it.
I knew how to pick a lock, a trick I’d taught myself when I was eleven and the foster parents I’d been with had a habit of locking me in the closet whenever I’d “misbehaved”. They’d often forget they’d put me there and I could be trapped for more than a day.
I looked around for a hairpin or paperclip, but couldn’t find any. Eventually, it became clear that I couldn’t save myself. I attempted calling “hello” a few times but obviously no one heard me.
I pulled out my phone. There was no signal, or at least it was spotty. I tried sending out a text to Gi, but it stayed in my outbox. There was no school Wi-Fi I could connect to.
I went over to the window at the back of the classroom. It was locked, too, but the signal was stronger here. I tried to send another message, but it still didn’t work.
Well, this wouldn’t be the first time I’d vandalised school property. I got a chair and lifted it up, smashing it into the window. It smashed easily and created a godawful sound. I wouldn’t even have minded being caught at this point. As long as it meant someone rescued me in the process of chewing me out.
I poked my head out, looking to see if anyone had seen or heard me, but the view out the window was round the back of the changing rooms for the gym and no one ever really went there. Great. The one time I wanted to get caught being a delinquent and there was no one around.
I shoved my phone out the window, looking to see if it got any better signal. If it was on the first floor I would have just stepped out, but I was on the second. The smallest of bars appeared, then disappeared. I needed to get it further out. I stood on the chair I’d used to smash the window and leaned out, trying to avoid the shards of broken glass still attached to the window frame. I ended up nicking my wrist a little, but it was hardly a scratch and I ended up getting a full two bars, so it was worth it.
I called Gi’s number. The phone rang for a while, but she didn’t answer. Class had finished around ten minutes ago, but she still wasn’t picking up. It wasn’t unusual for her to stick around and talk to her teacher about an assignment.
‘Come on,’ I said, ‘pick up.’
‘Is that really the safest way to have a phone call, love?’
Emerson appeared below me, standing on the shards of broken glass.
‘Great. It’s you.’
‘Coming to your rescue twice in one day… I’d thought you would be a little bit more appreciative.’
‘How did you know I was here?’
‘I followed the smell of distain and desperation,’ Emerson said.
He wasn’t serious. Was he?
Emerson rolled his eyes at me, as if he’d heard my thoughts. ‘I just knew,’ he said. There was something about the way he said it that reminded me of the thread I felt pulling us together. Was it possible that I wasn’t the only one who felt it?
‘Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me out?’ I asked.
‘Do you admit you need my help, love?’ Emerson asked with a smirk.
‘Asshole,’ I whispered under my breath.
‘If that’s how you want to play it,’ Emerson motioned to walk away.
‘Wait!’ I said.
‘Yes?’ he looked up at me expectantly.
‘Can you help me get out of here?’
‘No,’ Emerson said.
‘You jerk!’ I swore to him.
‘Don’t get your knickers in such a twist, love. You can get yourself out.’
‘I’m failing to see an option I haven’t tried yet. I’m locked in. The door won’t budge.’
‘So jump,’ he said, like it was nothing. ‘It’s only two floors.’
‘I just got my cast taken off today. The last thing I want to do is break something else.’
‘It’s two floors; not twenty.’
‘Twenty would kill me, asshole.’
‘I’ll catch you,’ Emerson said, like I hadn’t seen the solution that had been staring me in the face.
‘Like hell you would.’
‘Trust me.’
A literal fall-trust exercise. With a vampire. With Emerson the vampire. This couldn’t possibly be happening. Maybe this was Emma’s plot all along. If it was, I had to hand it to Gi, her best friend turned nemesis was an evil genius.
‘Or you can wait for Gi. Though how she’s supposed to help you get out of a locked room any better than me, I don’t know. It’s not as if Emma would have chosen a room just about anyone could get access to.’
‘How did you know Emma did this?’
‘Have you made that many enemies in your time here that someone else has it out for you?’
I flipped him off out the window. He chuckled to himself. ‘Unless you just happened to accidentally lock yourself in there. You seem like the accident-prone type.’ I swore aloud at him that time. He laughed. ‘Jump, Liv. I’ll catch you.’
Emerson had a point. Gi was probably not going to be able to help me get out of here.
‘Fine,’ I said.
‘Really?’ he looked surprised that I’d agreed to it.
‘Yes. Can we get this moment over with and not make a big deal about it?’
‘Sure, princess, just let down your golden hair and I’ll rescue you from your tower,’ Emerson chuckled. He was enjoying this far too much.
‘Prick,’ I said. I kicked the remaining glass from the window frame, so I didn’t cut myself anymore, and pulled half my body through.
‘Tell me now if you’re actually going to catch me or not, because I can plan this jump a lot better to land on my own-’
‘I’m going to catch you.’ Even from up here, his vamp-glamour was playing with my emotions telling me to trust him.
‘Get out of my head,’ I said. I didn’t know if it was a conscious thing that he did with the vamp-glamour, but if it was, he needed to stop.
‘Jump,’ he said.
Not wanting to spend any more time on this, I jumped. My angle was all wrong. But Emerson moved so that he caught me. His left arm was under my knees, the other bracing my back.
I could feel the heat of his body against mine. His scent was overpowering, though not a defined smell I could pinpoint. His vamp-glamour was stronger than ever now that I could feel his heartbeat in his chest.
Emerson smirked from over me. ‘See, I told you I’d catch you.’
‘Get off me.’ I said.
He dropped me on my feet. ‘You make a shite damsel.’
‘I’m not a damsel,’ I said.
‘You’re in distress often enough.’
9
‘Someone stole my phone,’ Gi told Emerson.
He’d called her up to see where she was when I still hadn’t got any answer from her. When she’d not answered her cell, he’d called her house number. I wasn’t exactly pleased he had access to both.
Apparently, from the gist of the conversation so far, she’d already driven home when she realised my car wasn’t in the lot.
‘What do you mean my car isn’t there?!’ I shouted.
Emerson followed me as I stormed around to the parking lot.
‘I thought she had just said that about me being able to see her tattoo to get me off her back and she’d driven home,’ I heard Gi say to Emerson.
‘Where the hell is my car?!’
Gi had been right. My car wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
‘Her car’s missing along with your phone,’ Emerson told her.
My keys had been in my bag. Oh, you absolute, stupid idiot, Liv. We’d already walked back to my classroom to get my bag. I checked its contents, but I already knew the
y’d be missing.
Emma’s plan had only been to get me out of the way. I didn’t know how she knew I had a car, since I’d only just driven it in today, but then- Martha’s live tweeting of lunch. Great. Absolutely freaking fantastic. I was going to kill that socialite drama queen. At least she’d be happy to know that the Cheer crowd actually followed her Twitter feed before she died a slow and painful death.
‘I can drive back and take her home,’ Gi began.
‘No, I can drive her,’ Emerson said. ‘I don’t have a game tonight. Don’t worry about it, love.’
Huh, so he used that endearment for everyone. That kind of annoyed me more than I thought it would.
‘Are you sure?’
‘It doesn’t make sense for you to drive all the way back here when I can drop her off on the way.’
I stared daggers at him. I didn’t like his reasonable argument because it meant I couldn’t demand Gi pick me up instead simply because Emerson was a pain in my ass.
I couldn’t call Maybelle because then would come the questions about where my car was. Which was a reasonable question. What the hell had Emma done with my car? I’d been able to drive it a day… I was fuming.
‘You two will play nice, won’t you?’ Gi said from the other end of the line. Like she could see that I was murdering him with my eyes.
‘Love, I’m always nice,’ he said. They said goodbye and hung up.
‘Stop staring at my car like it’s a snake and it’s going to attack.’
‘I don’t mind snakes,’ I said.
‘What a surprise.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Like calls to like. Coldblooded creatures and all that,’ he said.
A scoffed a laugh. ‘Really? You’re going to say that about me. You.’
‘I’m not coldblooded,’ Emerson said.
I snorted.
‘Completely misinformed,’ Emerson said. It was like his catch phrase at this point.
I remembered a passage on the biology of vampires from the Grimm files.
A vampire’s skin can often be a sign of when they last fed from a human. To keep alive, a vampire must feed regularly. The most obvious sign that they are reaching an uncomfortable level of depletion is the cooling of their skin.
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