Page 61 of Twisted Heathens
The anniversary is coming, better die before it gets here.
I conceal the shake in my hands by fiddling with my zip, attempting to remove the invasive voice from my thoughts. Like I’ve got a mental clock ticking down every second, the pressure increasing with each passing moment.
Teegan packs up her stuff, turning it over in her hands four times before neatly slotting it into her backpack. I linger behind, moving deliberately slow as my eyes stray to Rio.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then for the movie. I got to run,” she says.
“Maybe. I’ll see, not sure if it’s really my thing. But have fun with Todd.”
She blushes beet red. “It’s not like that, honestly.”
“Sure, whatever. Have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Teegan grabs her backpack and walks off, turning to laugh at my words. “That doesn’t exactly leave much, Brooke!”
I look away as she leaves, feeling this weird warmth in my chest again. It’s been a long time since I’ve had anything even remotely resembling friendship in my life. Part of me finds that terrifying, the idea of having someone close enough to care.
When I die… she’ll only suffer.
And make no mistake, I will die. Living is fucking overrated.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I survey the room and slowly head over to the far corner, making sure to meet Rio’s eyes. I jerk my head towards the towering bookshelves that create a great hiding place. He casts a quick look around before following me.
“Well, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He smirks.
“Cut it out. I want to make a deal, not listen to your pathetic flirting.”
“No beating around the bush, I see. You know most girls in this place would kill for a look in with me, right?” He flexes his biceps as he speaks, and I almost gag.
Rio’s a slimy fucking creep. I would rather break his nose than bargain with him. But this is the price you pay for shit in this world. Clearview taught me real quick that if you’re willing to pay, then anything is possible.
“Most girls are fucking stupid,” I mutter. “Look, I hear you’re the resident hook-up around here. I’ve got a list. What’s it gonna cost me?”
I pull the scrunched-up note from my pocket and subtly slip it into his hand, glancing around to ensure we’re still hidden from sight. Rio shakes his head, enjoying this way too much as he takes a quick read and whistles under his breath.
“Damn, you have high expectations. Want me to bring you a fucking unicorn too?”
I take a step closer into his personal space, maintaining eye contact. The trick is to own it, to show them you’re serious and not to be messed with.
“I’m willing to pay a high price for those things. Don’t fuck around, I’m not some dewy-eyed bitch asking for nail polish. Fix me up and I’ll make it worth your time. Or should I take my business elsewhere?” I pout exaggeratedly. “Thought you were the boss in this place.”
That makes him smile, my words hitting their target. Rio inches even closer, his strong aftershave making my chest burn. I stand stock still, forcing my breath to even out as he grabs a strand of my hair, twirling it around his finger.
“I hear you. But I don’t simply take empty promises, Brooklyn.”
“What do you take?” I force my clenched hands to release.
With a slight grin, he replies smugly. “Proof of payment. Now.”
Goddamn arrogant bastard. I have to force the descending red haze back and remind myself that I want the stuff on that list. Desperately. It’s nothing I haven’t done before, I let men fuck me over the bar at work without even getting their names, just to feel something for one damn second. If I do this, I’ll be ready and equipped to check out for good.
“And you’ll follow through? You got the means to fulfil my order?” I clarify, nodding towards the paper now tucked into his jeans pocket. I’m not fucking stupid.
“I’m a man of my word, believe it or not. I can fix you up fine.”
He’s deadly serious, all signs of humour aside. Gone is the laddish jock that prances around like he owns the place, replaced by a slick businessman capitalising on a gap in the market. It’s pretty scary, but every prison needs a supplier. Contraband is hot shit when you have little to lose and much to gain from disregarding the rules.
Casting another suspicious look around, I make sure the coast is clear. Rio’s goons are guarding the perimeter, keeping check of the few students still in the library. Like they are his fucking bodyguards or something. How didn’t I see it before? The power dynamic beneath all the bravado? It’s plain as day that he runs the shop around here.