Page 76 of Pawn

Okay, I’ve never broken into a school before.

Not with Zane.

Not on my own.

But it’s the only thing to take my mind off the mess of a relationship with Damien. What used to be my relationship. I’ve been way too distracted by said relationship anyway, I should have figured this out months ago.

The weed in my system makes the school property look ominous and deathly under the moonlight. Like a bad night at Hogwarts. But with copious amounts of booze also in my system, I don’t back down.

Climbing over the gate proves easier than I thought. In a black hoodie and matching joggers from Isaac, if anyone has their eye on the school, it’ll be hard to see me. Clara likes to keep her windows open on nicer days. If what Damien says is true, that people in Eden never lock their windows, this should be easy.

Once I’m by her window, I’m in luck. There’s no need to pick any locks or break any windows since her window slides open like a knife through butter. It’s darker inside, save for the emergency lights coming from the hallway but my phone helps to light the way. Switching on the flashlight, more calls, and texts from Damien litter my screen.

CRASH!

A wooden easel topples over when I walk right into it, Damien proving to be a distraction again. “Shit,” I mutter, picking it up from the floor.

Focus, Jo.

Ensuring there’s no security in the hall, I make my way down the dark corridors to the administration office. Everything looks so surreal with blurry eyes and the light of my flashlight. So much so that picking the lock to the office doesn’t seem as bizarre as this is.

After rifling through the secretary’s stuff, there’s nothing that rings any bells—besides the sheer amount of assault reports. That’s when my eyes land on Beckett’s office door. My Docs head in that direction without thinking. After unlocking his door with the bobby pins in my hair, I’m greeted by a whiff of leather and cologne.

His office is bigger than Cindy’s, even in the dark. There’s an entire reception area with leather chairs and fancy-looking glasses. A huge cabinet at the side of his desk is what catches my eye though, and that’s where I start my next search.

I’m not sure how long I spend rummaging through files, my phone buzzing in my pocket the entire time. Then my heart stops, my breath stopping with it as my finger lands on a green tabbed file with the name “Evergreen”.

When I open it up, it all starts to make sense. As much sense as any of this could make. The signs from the last six months whip around my head along with the spins infused by weed and whiskey.

I’m about to throw up from it before footsteps come from beyond the door. It sounds like a lot, heavy thudding coming closer and closer.

In no time, there’s a shining light behind the frosted glass and that’s when I realize files sit all over Beckett’s desk. I try to put them back as I’m watching the knob turn in slow motion. A window sits behind me but I’m too late to turn its way.

BANG!

A light blinds my eyes.

“Stop right there!”

Fuck.

Twenty

Damien

My strategies aren’t entirely conventional.

While I like a good thrill, this is deeper than that.

“And the name?” The officer looks up at me with an arched brow, as if he knows exactly what a rich prick like me is about to do once I find her.

Giving him a smile with the side of my mouth, I say the name that drives me insane. “Jo Rowland.”

“Damien?”

Turning to my favourite sound, Jo stands under the fluorescent precinct lights. Well, more like sways, but seeing her there fills my heart with relief.

And anger. What the fuck was she thinking?

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