Page 4 of Broken Princess

Not this time.

"Then she's in her dorm?" I ask.

"I would assume so, yeah." He's looking at me suspiciously now. I can tell he isn't sure what I'm getting at. But even if I have my own suspicions, there's nothing all that strange about the conversation. No reason for him to be more anxious than hostile, which is his usual state when it comes to me.

Something is definitely going on. If there was any part of me that thought I was just being paranoid before, it's gone now.

"She's not answering her phone, though," I say. "Do you think you could pass along a message for me?"

He rolls his eyes. "I thought I made it clear already. I’m not going to be your delivery boy."

"You did," I agree. "But I'm asking all the same."

He sighs in exasperation, leaning back in his booth. "And what exactly is it you want me to relay?"

"I'd like to meet up with her," I answer. "There's a lot we need to talk about."

"I doubt that," he scoffs.

"Look, you know as well as I do, Amelia shouldn't be hanging around that creep," I tell him. "I'm sure you looked into it."

"I did," he says with a shrug.

"And?"

"And I told Amelia what I found out," he replies. "At the end of the day, it's her decision. She's a big girl, she doesn't need you or me telling her who she can or can't talk to."

"Bullshit. She didn't grow up in this world. She doesn't understand the risks."

"That's where you're wrong," he remarks. "She understands more than you give her credit for. Which is probably why she decided she doesn't want anything to do with you. Now that's a decision I can respect, and I highly suggest you do the same."

With that, he gets up from the booth and starts to walk off, but he pauses. "You know, if I were you, I would worry more about Stefan stealing your public girlfriend. Seems like a flight risk, given the way she's always looking at him."

I watch as he leaves, frowning. He has a point. It's not like I haven't noticed Kayleigh drooling over the asshole, but I really can't bring myself to give a shit, beyond the fact that it's going to make me look bad if other people are catching on.

Like mother, like daughter.

I have bigger fish to fry, though. Since Anthony won't give me the answers, and Amelia certainly isn't going to respond anytime soon, I stalk to the girls' dormitory and stride past the front desk, ignoring the calls of the harried clerk keeping watch. She falls silent after following me halfway down the hall when she realizes who it is.

Smart.

I arrive at Amelia's dorm, and knock on the door, then pound when that fails to yield any results.

"Amelia?" I call. "Listen, I know you don't want to talk to me, but at least let me know you're all right."

I pause for a few moments. Nothing.

Son of a bitch. Why does she have to be so stubborn?

Unless something happened to her, and she can't respond at all… The thought makes my chest tighten with something I'm not used to feeling.

Fear.

All kinds of firsts when it comes to her.

I consider breaking the door down, but that's just going to draw attention I don't want right now. And there's a ninety-nine percent chance I'm just being paranoid.

Instead, I take out my keychain and select the lock pick dangling from it. Comes in handy from time to time. It doesn't take long to pick the lock, and when I open the door, the room is empty.

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