Page 90 of Brutal Prince

A download icon appears.

I glance up, making sure no one’s paying me any attention.

What the fuck is it? Lavish Prep’s wi-fi is fucking fast — if it weren’t, the students would have rioted years ago — so I can’t understand the delay.

But when the file finally loads, it all makes sense.

My screen goes black. I narrow my eyes. A video? My finger instinctively moves to the volume button, but I’m too slow. Before I can silence my phone, Marcus’s voice rings out loud and true.

“She’s so fucking trashed, bro.”

My skin goes ice-cold. My phone’s already back in my pocket before I lift my head, but that doesn’t help.

Kruger tilts his head at me and beckons.

I swallow hard.

He beckons again.

Fuck!

I stand, take my phone out of my pocket, and glance down to make sure it’s locked before I hand it over to him.

He takes it without a word, slips it into his top drawer, and points back to my seat.

I go reluctantly, my mind whirring like a spinning top.

She’s so fucking trashed, bro.

I remember Marcus saying that. I remember that exact moment. It’s a little vague — there’d been so much vodka, weed, and coke flowing through my blood, I’m shocked I managed to make it up Marcus’s stairs.

To his bedroom.

That’s where it happened.

Marcus’s bedroom.

Nausea floods me, and for a moment I think I’m gonna puke right here in Kruger’s class. But I fight it back with iron determination. Again. Again.

It dissipates, but reluctantly.

Think I’m bluffing?

The frame was too dark — I have no idea where the camera was that took that shot. But it was close enough to catch Marcus’s voice.

Far from damning. Except…I never got to see the rest.

What if whoever took that footage followed the three of us — Marcus and Jess and me — up those stairs? What if they hung around on the landing and recorded whatever sounds could be heard through the door?

I remember sitting down on Marcus’s bed.

Jessica, looking hot as shit in her little blue dress. Marcus by the door, looking high as fuck, silhouetted by the landing light.

That’s it.

If it was a book, then all I’d read was the fucking prologue before skipping straight to the epilogue.

I woke up the next morning with the worst hangover I’ve ever had. I was on Marcus’s bed, spooning Jessica. She was naked. I was naked.

---