Page 21 of Pawn

“Tell me about that picture in your wallet,” I say, my chin on my knee, my voice quiet. “The one with my dad and your mom.”

Damien’s body tenses, his hand on the knob. He turns around before he looks over his shoulder with a sigh, “Do what I say, Jo.” He turns the knob. “Get dressed.”

* * *

Christian’s Jag is silent all the way to the Academy. With us all in our clean uniforms, you’d never tell we had the night from hell.

Damien’s the puppet master in this whole thing, keeping everyone in their places, including me. He even got me a crisp new blazer, putting it on my shoulders on the way out like that’ll help piece this imperfect picture together.

It sits under my leather jacket now, my bruised legs in grey knee-highs. I look as put together today as I did on my first day. It’s as suffocating as this whole scenario makes me feel.

Willow’s doing better, so at least there’s that. She texts on her phone the whole ride beside me, Christian and Isaac in the front.

Isaac flicks through the music on his phone connected to the speakers. He keeps stopping on anything that sounds like it should be on the streets of Paris. Accordions mix with upbeat melodies, songs with French words for lyrics. Chewing on my lip, I want to tell him to stop because it sounds like he’s playing the music of our crime. For his sake, I don’t, even though it brings images of a jail cell to my mind.

“Can I tell Bella that we went to The Grove?” Willow asks, energy back in her system. “If I can’t know what really happened, at least it’ll give me an edge.”

After a quick second to think it out, I nod. It stays in line with Damien’s alibi. Turns out, I’m his alibi. It’s a fair trade because he’s my alibi too. His words over coffee replay in my head again.

“We spent the entire night in The Grove. We had a party with a Trailer Trash theme, it was a night to remember. Willow got too fucked up to function and after the hospital, we all came back to the lake house. Got it? No one saw Marion. No one.”

“You do know what happened,” I remind her. Watching as she texts, I make sure she tells Bella the least, but Willow’s going to town on the story. I can’t help but smirk at what I read from the corner of my eye.

Willow: It was so crazy, I nearly died. Wish you could’ve been there, it was INSANE!!

She looks up at me, pulling her phone away before she mumbles, “I don’t know what happened. You guys won’t tell me the truth.”

My eyebrows fall, shoulders dropping with them. Guess this wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought. “You do know the truth. We took care of Marion.” Isaac turns up the music on the stereo, drowning out my words.

It doesn’t drown out the siren coming up behind us, the lights flashing in the rearview.

Fuuuuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

My breath stops, nails digging into the leather of my seat. When I turn around, the cruiser whips right by us.

Willow rolls her eyes, unfazed. That’s exactly why she can’t know. The guilt I have isn’t hers to bear.

“What does that even mean?” she asks. “For all I know you guys could’ve killed her.”

“No!” I respond way too quickly before I realize she thinks she’s being dramatic, my voice going above the melody. Pulling Willow closer to me across the backseat, I bring her ear to mine. “Just trust me, okay? Damien and I will handle it.”

“What is there to handle? That woman almost killed us!”

“Low.”

“When did you stop telling me things?” Her head falls, her hair curly around her face. It’s been a while since she’s worn her hair in curls but without a straightener in the lake house, she had no choice. It makes her look like that little girl all over again. “I was scared and alone for so long but I didn’t tell Marion where you were. The least you can do is tell me what happened.”

SLAM!

“You guys ready?” Christian asks. Looking around, we’re already in the ERA parking lot. Isaac’s storming towards the side doors while other students in fancy cars park around us. “I’ll find Allie and tell her the plan.”

Christian gets out of the car but Willow stays, waiting for an answer. Bella waves her over from the side but she doesn’t budge, doesn’t let me off the hook.

“You used to tell me everything before we came here,” she says, eyes searching mine. “What are you hiding?”

Sticking my pinky out I search her eyes for her trust, trying to find that connection that’s slipping away bit by bit. “Low, I promise I’ll tell you everything as soon as I can. We’re just trying to keep you safe, I swear. You still with me?”

She looks at my finger before she leaves me hanging. “Not if I’m gonna get kidnapped again,” she mutters, reaching for the door handle. “Especially not if I don’t get to know why.”

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