Page 107 of Depraved Boys

I rubbed my head. “Sorry for worrying you both. My aunt and uncle are probably wondering where I am.”

Sebastian’s features relaxed. “I can drive you to their place if you like.”

“Thanks.”

We put the snowman on hold, piled into Sebastian’s jeep and made a two-and-a-half-hour trip through the snow-covered mountains to Uncle Trevor’s apartment.

Aunt Hortense opened the door, bringing with her the sound of children screaming over a blaring television. Her face twisted with displeasure, and she placed a hand over the back of the newborn on her shoulder. “Trevor’s out, buying powdered milk.”

“Oh.” I glanced into the apartment’s interior. “When will he be back?”

“Not for a while.” Her gaze darted from Leopold, who stood at my right, to Sebastian, who stood on my other side. “I can’t let you in.”

“Come on.” Leopold placed an arm over my shoulder. “We can wait for him in the jeep.”

As we stepped out into the street, snow fell in thick flakes, making my stomach twist. The longer we waited, the more treacherous our journey back to the hideout would become.

I looped my arm through Leopold’s and Sebastian’s. “We’d better set off. I’ll speak to him another time.”

“Are you sure?” asked Leopold.

I nodded. “Let’s go back to the hideout and make preparations for tomorrow.”

The boys treated me to therapeutic bed baths both in the evening and on Christmas day, chasing away the last of my melancholy. They’d even bought me the latest iPhone to replace the one I had lost.

In the following week, the headaches receded to the point where I no longer felt pressure in my skull or throbbing pains. Since the neurologist had told me to finish the course of medication, I continued taking the pills.

In the few days before term started, anxiety nibbled at the edges of my mind. The boys had filled my heart with their love and attention during our time at the snowy oasis, and I wasn’t ready to return to Brittas Academy.

On Sunday afternoon, I rested on the sofa watching Leopold and Sebastian move boxes from the treehouse into the jeep, and a pang of regret struck me through the chest.

Leopold sank into the leather seat next to me and placed a hand on my thigh. “Headache?”

I shook my head. The painkillers and stress-relieving orgasms were doing a tremendous job. “What if the person who had tried to kill me made another attempt?”

He glanced up at Sebastian, who was carrying my case to the door of the treehouse.

A pained look crossed Sebastian’s features, and he fixed his gaze onto the wooden floor. “Between Leo, Kash, and me, there’ll always be one of us at your side.”

Later that evening, the boys escorted me to my room in the west wing, where a few of the girls in my year strolled back from dinner. Ashley hadn’t been to my room since her initiation, but dread rolled through my belly at the thought of her lurking inside.

I shook off those paranoid thoughts, stepped into the room, and switched on the light. An envelope lay on my desk.

“What’s that about?” asked Sebastian.

“Do you want me to do the honors?” asked Leopold.

“Would you mind?” I asked.

“Not at all.” He strode into the room, picked it up, and tore it open. After pulling out a slip of paper and reading its contents, his face fell. “Not good.”

“What does it say?”

“Please visit Mrs. Benazir’s office on Monday at 7 am.”

The next morning, the scent of lavender filled my nostrils as I stepped into the headmistress’s office. Mrs. Benazir glowered up at me from her desk chair, and behind her stood the imposing, dark figure of Miss Claymore. The deputy headmistress’s face twisted into a grimace that made me wonder if she was constipated.

My insides knitted themselves into a series of complicated knots, and the blood vessels around my brain pounded in time with my quickening heart. How would I tell them that one of their students had tried to kill me when I had no evidence and no recollection of that disastrous Monday night?