Page 58 of Brutal Prince

She gives me a double thumbs-up as she gets to her feet. Then she’s off, headed back to the school building. I grind out the rest of the joint under my heel and take Tiffany’s seat.

I can see a small section of the fence from my vantage point.

The fuck do I know about any of this? I’m a fucking outsider. Then again, as an outsider, I have no vested interest in any of the parties involved. I’m like some out-of-town detective called in to deal with a small-town murder where everyone’s a fucking suspect.

Didn’t know I’d be acting all Nancy Drew and shit, but I guess it’s better than hanging around waiting for Briar to bully me.

* * *

The restof the afternoon passes in a blur until Addy finds me outside my locker. I haven’t been actively avoiding her — I just minimized trips to my locker and used my height — or lack thereof — to my advantage.

“You don’t answer your phone anymore?” she asks, cocking an eyebrow as she leans her hip against the locker next to mine.

I close my locker door and give her a shrug. “In case you’ve forgotten, I have a week of school to catch up.”

“Oh.” Addison drops her eyes, and gives me a sympathetic smile. Yesterday morning in the car I told her that I’d lost my mother. Not how — no one needs that shit in their head — but again, instead of gushing, she changed the subject. Back then, I thought she was a real swell gal for being supportive without being nosy.

Now I’m wondering if she’s just stacking up good karma points to use when I confront her with all the juicy tidbits I discovered today.

“Well, then maybe we can go to the mall and grab an early dinner tonight?”

I know all she wants is to find out what Tiffany said, but I’m still processing everything. After all, in my role as Detective Virgo, I need to ensure every interaction with the possible suspects can be used to the best of my advantage. If I’m going to feed Addison info, I have to make sure she’s giving me something in return.

Yeah, I’m still baked as a fucking potato. I can’t deal with this shit right now. All I want is to get home and wash this day off me.

I haven’t gone girly since Mom died, but I really need some me-time tonight. I’m thinking rose-scented bubbles and possibly — possibly — some wine. A glass…maybe two.

“Tomorrow.”

Addison pouts, but then smiles away the sulkiness a moment later. “Okay. Tomorrow.” She holds up her phone. “But at least just reply to my texts? I worry.”

I nod, patting the pocket of my blazer. The hard case of my mobile makes a comforting tapping sound against my fingers.

“Meet you tomorrow for our morning blunt?” she asks, lifting up the side of her lip with a shrug.

“Only way you’re luring me back to this hellhole,” I say through a laugh. Addy nods, looking satisfied, and waves as she disappears into the crowd.

Hopefully, by then, I’ve figured out what I’m going to tell her. And the questions I’m going to ask.

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