Page 45 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You
We won.
3–1.
I know Velmark inside out, played with them for years, so I know exactly where to press, which men to unbalance.
It was almost insultingly simple.
When I step into the changing room it’s carnage, shouts, slaps on the back, boots kicked in corners. The boys are high on the win.
I take a quick shower, letting the hot water sluice the pitch grit from my skin, then dress and go.
There’s a party tonight, the Thirteenth Circle’s celebration for the match, but I have time before that.
I’m hungry, and I’d sooner eat alone than elbow my way through the dining hall and then the same faces at a party.
Too many people. Too many conversations. For now I want silence.
So I make my way back to my rooms.
On the walk, I wake my phone and pull up the security feeds, it’s become a habit.
The live view of Ophelia’s sitting room fills the screen, she’s on the sofa, blanket tucked round her knees, a glass of wine in one hand.
She’s completely still, absorbed by whatever’s on the TV, a basket of knitting lies on the bed, yarn in a tangle.
I installed that camera the night I stayed in her dorm. The same man who changed the lock did the work, without questions.
I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to her.
But that’s nothing new, is it?
I need to have eyes on her all the time. If I’m not following her from a distance, I hack the academy feeds or I use the one I installed in her sitting room.
It was hard to justify, but I convinced myself one feed would be enough.
I wish it were.
If I could, I’d have sightlines into every corner of that flat, even the damn bathroom.
I know it’s fucked up. But I don’t give a shit.
I watch a few seconds longer, because I can’t stop myself.
Then I flick the feed closed and open another.
Marcel fills now the screen, the prat who had the gall to sit beside her at the match, who thought it acceptable to hand her his shirt. He’s lucky he left with all his bones intact.
I thumb open Notes and start a list.
1)Expel him.
2)Sabotage his family’s reputation.
3)Plant a scandal that sticks.
He must not imagine this place his playground.
He sat beside her. He spoke to her. He dared offer her his shirt.
