Page 92 of Brutal Prince

That’s it?

I replay the video, cranking up the sound and zooming in on every pixel I can see.

Nothing.

I’m a second away from hurling my phone at the wall before I can control myself. As soon as I manage to curb my hand’s furious shaking, I type out a message.

That’s it?

I wait, feet tapping on the tiles.

There’s only one new message on my phone, and I read it before considering a reply to Addy.

Marcus: Thanks for the drinks.

So Marcus’s father has left again. Good for Marcus. Although I wouldn’t have minded having him at my house for a few days. At least the house doesn’t echo as much.

I hesitate, and then type out a reply to Addy.

That’s your proof? You haven’t got shit.

I wait, but there’s no response. She’s probably in class already, not daring to take out her cellphone. I wait another minute, my hand in my hair, but no response.

Fuck this. I’ve probably scared her off. If it was just a voice recording, I hardly see how it could be evidence. Whatever her plan was, it didn’t work.

I head for my next class, doing my best to keep Addy from my mind. Unfortunately, all that does is let Indi slip in.

Christ, her mother was murdered? There was no way I could have known, of course, but I still feel like shit for what I said to her. No wonder she went off the fucking rails.

I should apologize. But would she let me? She looked pretty pissed off when Denard handed her a detention slip.

Hmm. I get to have detention with my little virgin.

* * *

Indi

I haveno idea if Marigold’s been notified about my detention yet, and I have no wish to find out either. Addy and I meet for a late lunch at a bistro down one of Lavish’s prettier roads. We smoke before going in, so I’m baked when we take our seat outside in the dappled shade of one of the many oak trees lining this street.

Addy orders a milkshake and some fries, but I need proper food. I missed lunch, after all, and tears are a poor source of sustenance. I upgrade my order to a burger, double thick strawberry milkshake and a massive plate of fries.

“Wanna know something weird?” I say, toying with my straw as I watch the play of light on the brick road. Sitting out here makes me think of what it must be like dining in Italy or something. “Briar seems so different when we’re alone.”

It’s the weed talking, of course. I would never have brought up the subject if I hadn’t been robbed of my inhibitions by a few solid hits of Kush.

“Serial killers are like that,” Addy says dryly. “Handsome, charming psychos.”

I laugh. “Serial killer? Damn, that escalated quickly.”

Addy rolls her eyes. “He’ll turn into one if he isn’t stopped.”

I shrug. “I just mean, if you hadn’t told me about what had happened to Jess, I would never have suspected he was…capable of doing something like that.”

I don’t mention Sunday, obviously. In my mind, it turned out to be an anomaly. I can’t explain Briar’s behavior that night — maybe he was high or something. I don’t do drugs — to me, weed doesn’t count — so I may have missed the clues.

“I need to get him alone again,” I murmur, nodding my head as I take another sip of my milkshake.

“You wound up getting detention last time,” Addy says, pursing her lips.

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