Page 108 of Vicious Saint
“Hotel, huh?” I cross my arms. “And tell me, Rebecca Dawson, where do you suggest I hide the body of the Italian following me around?”
She grumbles a “shit” then plops down on the bed too.
“Yeah. Shit. Which is why this is the most logical solution.”
I leave out the little tidbit of it also being the most convenient.
“Do not do anything stupid, Hendrix,” Archer grits out. “Please.”
“When have I ever?”
“Uh, that’s easy, feeding Saint’s weird obsession with you, making him jealous, pissing him off, assaulting the only girl he fucks on the reg.” He pauses, holding up a finger. “Oh, yeah, and hunting him down in a dungeon with a fucking taser.”
“Stun gun,” I correct.
Archer’s rebuttal is cut off by Bex when she adds, “Don’t forget calling his sister a whore.”
“He called me one first!” I throw my hands up in the air. “Plus, I’m making up for that shit with Theory.”
“Oh, okay, then yeah. Saint willtotallybe cool with you poking through his belongings, then.”
“I am not—”
Archer curves a brow and I want to pluck every single hair off it.
“What? I’m serious! You think I want to stay here? You think I woke up yesterday and said to myself ‘Yo, Hendrix!Here’s an idea…let’s pray for some idiot to burn down the girls’ dorms so you can spend the rest of the summer in your new psycho stepbrother’s sex pad?’” Before Archer can answer, I add, “Spoiler alert…I didn’t. So quit being a dick.”
“Alright, alright…” Bex’s attempt to de-escalate is cut short by my memory, and the reminder of never getting a call back or explanation from Archer.
Only from Bex an hour later, who didn’t know much more about what happened in the girls’ dorms than what the news had been saying.
Started around three in the morning.
Building mostly empty.
No sign of foul play.
Still an ongoing investigation.
Shifting to face Archer, I tell him, “Speaking of the fire…you still haven’t told me how you ended up in trouble because of it.”
Archer’s face pales, saying enough about his innocence, or lack thereof.
Damn, universe.
One existential crisis at a time.
“Well?” Bex presses.
He works his jaw. “All I know is that they suspect a student did it, okay? Nothing else.”
“Yeah…and I have rainbow unicorn hair for pubes.”
“Horn and all,” Bex jumps in.
“Easy now…”
She shrugs a shoulder.
