They were already halfway out the door.
My eyes volleyed between them. “You’re kidding.” And as soon as I realized they weren’t screwing with me, I darted toward them, but I wasn’t quick enough. The heavy door swung shutwith a loud clang, and then it clicked. The fuckers locked me in.No way.
I blinked at the door, completely stunned, thinking this had to be another one of their games. “Are you serious right now?” I hissed at the solid door.
Silence.
The disbelief melted into irritation as I yanked at the handle. It didn’t budge.
They wouldn’t. Nuh-uh. No way they would lock me inside a classroom and actually leave.
I pounded on the door hard. “Let me out! I’m not some fragile little damsel. What the hell is wrong with you?!”
No answer. Just the faint echo of footsteps fading down the hall.
Fuck no, I’m not staying put.
I groaned, turning in a slow circle as if a secret door might appear behind the whiteboard. Of all the dramatic, overbearing, Corvo-boy nonsense, this was peak. I’d almost been assaulted, sure, but I didn’t need to be locked in a room like some porcelain doll waiting for a knight in bloodstained armor.
God, it’s just like them to lock me up.
And they wanted me to believe they’d changed.Jackasses.
First order of business, I needed to find a way out of here. I had no intention of sticking around waiting for Kreed.
Reaching for my phone, I debated calling Poppy or Carson. Carson was on his way to pick me up, probably only a few minutes out. Poppy might still be on the grounds and would absolutely lose her mind hearing about this, but before I hit send, something else caught my attention.
The windows.
We were on the first floor, and the south side of the wall was lined with small square windows. And thank God, they weren’t bolted shut.
I shoved the phone in my pocket and crossed the grimy floor, grabbing the metal frame. It gave with only a little resistance, squeaking open an inch, then two, then wide enough for me to get my arms through. I tugged at the screen, and with a little force and a lot of cursing, it popped out. I let the screen clatter to the ground outside.
Climbing onto the ledge wasn’t exactly graceful. I slipped once, swore again, and finally got both knees up without busting my head open. Hoisting myself up, I wiggled halfway through before I remembered my backpack. I tossed it down onto the snow below and squeezed the rest of the way out, dropping unceremoniously into a crouch on the other side.
The air outside felt like freedom.
I brushed myself off, glancing back at the window. It was crooked now, and the screen lay beside the building like a discarded clue in some juvenile escape plan.
A smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth. Let Maddox and Mason have their stupid “wait for Kreed” plan. I almost wished I could stick around, invisible in the corner, just to see the looks on their faces when they came back and found the classroom empty.
Too bad I’d already made my exit.
I lingered in the shadow of the school building, heart still hammering from my less than glamorous escape through the window. My palms were scraped, my knee ached from the landing, and my pride had taken a serious hit, but at least I wasn’t locked in school anymore.
I shifted from foot to foot, eyes locked on the front lot like a hawk, willing Carson’s BMW to appear. The next time I saw Mason and Maddox, they were going to get a swift knee to the junk.Assholes.
How dare they leave me locked in a classroom.
As I plotted several ways to exact my revenge, I spotted Carson’s sleek black car pulling in with its usual purr of power. The Elmwood Public parking lot didn’t have many expensive cars, unlike Elmwood Academy, where every kid drove something flashier and pricier than the next person. Only a handful of kids who attended Public had parents who could afford such luxuries; the Corvos were one of them.
Relief hit me so fast. I didn’t wait. I bolted across the snowy grass like a girl being chased by a serial killer or the Corvos, practically the same thing, darting between students and skidding to a stop just as Carson stepped out of the driver’s seat.
He lounged against the side of his car, his eyes scanning the parking lot for me, but his expression shifted the second he saw me. “Kay?” he asked, pushing off the car. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said quickly, breathless. “Can we just—please—can we get out of here?”
His brow furrowed, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. “That fucking bad?”