Page 205 of Depraved Boys

“It was under your mattress protector at home.” I slipped the smartphone in my pocket.

“You searched my room?” she screeched.

“You bugged Kash’s,” said Sebastian.

“That wasn’t me.”

“Sure, it wasn’t,” drawled Leopold.

“He’s going to rot in jail.” Her eyes roved my face as though examining my expression for weakness. “And I’m going to relish taking everything from you, just like you took it from me.”

Sebastian and Leopold both turned to me with quizzical expressions. I gave them a blank look. How could I explain to Sebastian, who had come from a loving family that Ashley’s sibling rivalry had twisted into something malignant? Even Leopold’s cold-hearted mother, who was motivated by financial gain, hadn’t tried to maim or humiliate him.

Ashley was a different kind of family strife. A riddle wrapped up in a pile of festering toilet paper.

“What do you want? Money?” asked Sebastian.

Ashley turned to him. “What?”

“Days ago, you stormed Kash’s room, demanding a hundred and fifty thousand pounds. You ran away before we could tell you to fuck off. Are you lying to the police to make sure you get your money?”

Ashley’s gaze dropped to the smartphone in Leopold’s hand.

“Wow,” she said in a theatrical voice. “A girl gets beaten half to death by Prakash Kashaayah, and his rich friends bribe me to drop the charges. He’s a rapist, a murderer, and now he’s striking again. You three are despicable for wanting to buy me off.”

I ground my teeth. She probably said that for the benefit of any recording equipment. “No one’s trying to bribe you, but this is the second time you’ve protected Bruce after he and his friends have assaulted you. We just want you to tell the truth, so he doesn’t hurt you or anyone else.”

The look of hatred she shot me could have sliced me in half. “You’re not nearly as clever as you want people to believe. Fuck off, and never come back.”

I shot out of my seat. “You’re always looking for shortcuts in life. One day, it’s going to get you killed.”

She clutched her chest, eyes swiveling to Leopold’s smartphone. “Are you threatening me?”

“You’re already a cautionary tale,” I walked across the room, not casting her a second glance. “I don’t want your story to end in tragedy.”

“Fat, judgmental bitch!” she screeched. “Who do you think you are?”

For someone severely injured and probably on pain medication that made her drowsy, Ashley certainly shouted up a storm. I blocked out the rest of her rants and stepped out into the hallway. A nurse walked around from the desk and headed toward us. I didn’t bother to stop to explain that Ashley was having a tantrum.

“Were you recording her?” asked Sebastian.

Leopold nodded. “A fat lot of good that did.”

“She’s trying to make us sweat.” I shook my head. That girl seemed to twist every misfortune she suffered into an opportunity to snipe at my friends and me.

When we reached the police station, the receptionist narrowed her eyes, probably remembering us from the day before. Her gaze ran up and down Leopold and Sebastian’s bodies that looked far too fit and muscular for a green school uniform.

Before any of us could speak, she said, “Your friend has been charged with grievous bodily harm and will be held in remand until a court hearing.”

“Fuck,” snarled Sebastian.

All the air left my lungs in an outward breath. “Why?”

Leopold wrapped a hand around my arm and pulled me away. “They did this last year when someone sent an anonymous tip that he planned on absconding to India. Let Seb’s legal guy take care of things.”

I barely heard the rest of the receptionist’s words through the fog of pain. Didn’t these people conduct forensic exams anymore? If they checked Ashley for Prakash’s DNA, they would find him innocent. As we stepped out of the door, the older woman mentioned Prakash being moved to a juvenile facility because he might flee to India to evade justice.

Leopold and I walked out of the police station wrapped up in each other. I rested my head on his shoulder. How could one vindictive little liar cause so much mayhem to an innocent person?