Page 49 of Snitches and Serpents

I shift my weight nervously and adjust the grip on the duffel bag several times. Tristan didn’t say when the other person was coming. Just that they would come. I could be here all night.

Turning slightly away from the door, I begin studying the graffiti on the wall instead to pass the time. It’s mostly just random patterns and crude depictions of genitalia. I shake my head and start to turn back to the door. But then my gaze snags on a smaller drawing at the edge of the red-painted mess.

I squint at it.

It’s hard to tell, because the person who did this is clearly not artistically gifted, but it almost looks like… a snake eating a rat.

Cold dread slams into me like a shovel to the back of the head.

Don’t tell me that this is?—

The door is yanked open.

I jump in shock and whirl around towards the door again right as four police officers charge into the gym. And not campus police. Real police officers.

“Stop right there!” one calls.

“Drop the bag,” another yells.

“Hands above your head,” the third one adds.

And suddenly, I understand what’s going on.

The bag. The tools. The destruction inside the gym. And yet again, an anonymous tip to the police. To the actual real police about an actual real crime that has been committed. And I’m left holding the bag. Literally. I’m literally standing here, in the middle of the scene of the crime, holding the evidence like an absolute idiot.

God above, how could I have been this stupid?

18

TRISTAN

Awide grin spreads across my mouth as I watch Elle being led out of the gym in handcuffs. I knew she would do exactly what I wanted. I knew she would be too suspicious, that she would be expecting a drug setup, which would lead her to check what was in the bag. Especially because I told her not to. And now, her fingerprints are all over those tools.

Remaining in the shadows a short distance away, I keep my eyes on Elle as one of the police officers escorts her to the car.

It was time to take the kid gloves off. I thought it would be enough to simply report her to campus police. But apparently, they’re far too inclined to be lenient when a beautiful, rich girl starts crying. This time, she will definitely be charged.

Since it’s just a case of vandalism, and she’s from a rich and influential family, she will likely not get any jail time. But she will have to pay fines and restitution. And more importantly, she will be expelled from Bercester U and will finally be out of my life forever.

Across the schoolyard, the policeman pulls Elle to a halt next to the car and then opens the door to the backseat. The flashing red and blue lights of the police car paint the otherwise dark buildings with splashes of color. They flash across Elle’s face too, illuminating it enough for me to see the expression on her face.

An unexpected stab of pain spikes through my chest.

She looks desperate.

Utterly fucking desperate. And panicked. Her eyes are wide and pleading, and her chest rises and falls with rapid, shallow breaths. It looks as if she’s on the verge of another panic attack.

Since I need to remain completely out of sight, I’m too far away to hear what she says when she speaks to the police officer in front of her. I can only see her mouth moving. But it doesn’t matter, I can guess what she’s saying.

Raising both of her hands, since they’re shackled together, she points back towards the gym where the two other police officers who arrived earlier still remain. She keeps speaking, shaking her head desperately while pointing towards the building and then to herself. No doubt trying to convince the policeman that it wasn’t her.

He just shakes his head and motions for her to get into the car.

With her hands still raised, she continues talking while pressing her palms together as if she’s begging.

The sight of it makes me irrationally angry. Or maybe jealous. If she’s going to beg someone for mercy, it should be me.

But the policeman only shakes his head again and then once more gestures towards the open door to the backseat.

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