Page 8 of Antihero
"So, what did you think? Of the movie?" She asks, smiling, her cheeks coloured from the cold. She scoots closer so her knee is almost brushing my shoulder. I make sure I don't tilt my head and accidentally see up her skirt, though her knees are drawn tightly together.
"I liked it," I say.
"Really?" she smiles wider. She has slightly off-kilter front teeth. Nothing major. But right now, she might be the cutest girl I've ever sat on a park bench with. Totally unsuitable for me, really.
I give in. “Well, I thought it was terrible. But I still enjoyed it.”
Paige laughs. “Well, I'm glad. Otherwise, you might be opposed to doing it again.”
I’m grinning as Paige takes another bite of her ice cream, cringing a little at the freeze. Then she looks at me and asks, "Who are you, really?"
"Who am I?" I ask, caught off guard. Her mind does seem to take some sharp turns.
"Yeah. You're so… mysterious. Quiet."
"There’s not much to me."
She smiles again. "Really?"
I meet her gaze, letting a smile linger, but I don't answer. I feel the moment, that almost-electric tug telling youthisis the right moment.
Paige leans down, meeting me where I’m seated, and kisses me.
She tastes like strawberry ice cream, her lips cold, though not for long. My hand rests on her ankle, bracing, as I tilt my chin up, and almost jolt in surprise when I feel her tongue slide into my mouth. I wasn't expecting it, and the shock shoots straight down between my legs, tightening my jeans.
When she pulls back, softly biting her now-wet lower lip, I feel like I'm the one blushing. Paige is smiling, watching my face. "Come on, I need to work tomorrow. Walk me home?"
I nod, about to stand. But just as I go to move, Paige lifts her butt to step off the seat and onto the ground. I don't mean to, but as she extends one leg, her skirt rides up just that little bit, and I glance an inch of very creamy inner thigh. What I thought were full leggings under her skirt, are in fact thigh-high stockings, and for a moment I can't move, my brain short-circuiting.
Then she's standing on the grass, waiting. She went from cute to sexy, much too quickly for me to compute. When I manage to push off the table and stand, I find an excuse—hands bundled low in my olive-green scarf—to obscure my crotch.
Walk it off, I instruct myself.
"This is where you live?" I ask some fifteen minutes later, looking at the low cottage clinging to the village outskirts. Of course, every part of Kidswal feels like it’s on the outskirts, but we walked through near-pitch darkness to get here, under a cluster of thick trees overhanging the path. Darkness obscures the house, the low hardy brush extending beyond, sinking into rough terrain. Light through the trees on the right suggests another house not so far away. Night birds call, and distantly, in the quiet, the sound of crashing waves just reaches my ears.
"Yep, this is it. Small, but I have it to myself."
There’s an invite there, I know. If I kissed her again, I could seduce her, go in.
I don't. I squeeze the hand she's slipped into mine and pull away.
Chapter four
The Wraith of White Rock
There's a schedule. But some people just need to be moved up on it.
That’s why I'm here, instead of followingher.
He’s doing the big loop tonight, right around to the East Ward, though those are all behind deadlocks that set off an alarm when opened. So, no fun for him there.
It’s a rare, clear night tonight. I see him, the reflective cuffs of his security jacket glinting in the moonlight as he strolls back along the southern battlement. He’ll come down into the courtyard soon, cross it to the gatehouse, and ascend into the West Ward on this side of the castle. There, he’ll stop, unlocka door, and lock it behind him. He’ll come back out after a few minutes. One filthy deed later.
I could let him see me; he’d be easy enough to lure that way. But there’s limited time, and he needs to go down quickly, so he won’t get a chance to lay eyes on me. He’s taking the stairs down now, with that over-confident swagger of his, as he descends into the courtyard. I slip down off my ledge.
I won't wait in the open. The sky is too bright for that, even in my black wear. Instead, I slip into the corridor under one side of the thick stone gatehouse. It leads to the outside, and halfway along, there’s a narrow stairwell going up into the long line of the wards three storeys above.
Just beyond sight, I wait, the double doors between me and the courtyard. Soon enough, he’ll come this way, and I’ll stalk him to the stairs. There, in the narrow space, sound cut off from the rest of the castle; I’ll kill him.
