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“Hey,” I say, blinking as I see he’s already awake. Then a zap of adrenaline hits me. “Is it time?”
“Slight change of plans,” he whispers and the confidence in his voice is enough to let me relax. “We’re just going to go about our day as normal. Can you do that?”
“Normal?” The idea is both appealing and completely outside my grasp. “But what’s going to happen to—”
He stops me with a kiss and I’m happy to melt against him for the long minutes until his lips finish their thorough inspection. When he comes to a stop, the world is coated in a delightful haze that I never want to dissipate.
“There was a hiccup with the security patrol, but I’ve noted the new timings. Everything will just get pushed back twenty-four hours.”
His voice is warm and reassuring but without specifics, my anxiety still wants to come out and play.
But I trust Conner. Time to show it.
“Okay. Do you want to shower together?”
His smile is as delicious as hot toast with butter. “Yes, but I can’t stay. There’ll be people waking soon and I don’t want to get caught sneaking out of the student quarters.”
Put that way, his presence in my bed becomes a thousand times naughtier. A thousand times more secretive and satisfying.
“Better get going then,” I warn him, “or my hands will start to wander.”
Once he’s gone, my mind instantly becomes more troubled. I worry about what he has planned, worry why he changed the original idea, worry that his confidence is a show, and I might still end the day in a jail cell.
Above all, I worry that I don’t care enough about what I did to James. Now the shock of the moment has well and truly gone, a better person would be upset. I ended a life. Maybe not including the final stretch where Conner finished the job but even then, I’m the one who called him for help.
There should be shame. There should be horror at my actions. Instead, there’s a tired relief that it’s over, that I never have to worry that he’ll attack me again.
Then I think of Marnie, of how she’ll be devastated, and I have to hop into the shower and wash myself clean to get rid of the guilt.
It’s after I dress and tidy the bed that I come across Floss’s phone and instantly get worried. She wouldn’t just hand it over to him willingly; James must have threatened her or hurt her to get it.
I can’t face my best friend right now, knowing what I know, but I can visit Floss and make sure she’s okay. If she’s not—and that’s the more likely possibility—I can support her to get the help she needs, even if that’s just to listen while she talks.
It’s just gone seven when I venture into the corridor. The first eager pupils are making their way to the cafeteria to fill up on breakfast before the main throngs arrive.
When I pound on her door, Floss calls out in a wavering voice, “Who’s there?”
“Paisley,” I answer, smiling vaguely at a pupil walking past in their school uniform, one of the junior years. “Please let me in. I’ve got your phone.”
“Is this a trick?”
“No, I swear.”
“You can slide my phone under the door.”
“I’m not giving it back until I know whether you’re okay.”
There’s a long pause. I hear students moving along the corridor, heading for their rooms or for the cafeteria. I have no idea what I look like, but I pray my actions aren’t written as baldly on my face as it feels.
Finally, she whispers, “Is he making you do this?”
Her obvious fear floods me with empathy. There might be things I could say to make her feel safer, but I settle for a lame statement. “Nobody’s making me do anything.”
And I hear a sob of terror like a cut to my heart. “I’m so sorry, Paisley. I never meant…” She gasps. “Is James out there with you?”
“No, he…” I want to reassure her he can never hurt anyone again, but I can hardly blurt that out in a public corridor. There’s a camera mounted opposite the stairwell just a metre along the hall.
“Nobody’s out here with me, I swear. Please, Floss. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
