Page 211 of Depraved Boys

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Seb’s personal banker at the bank,” he replied. “We should be able to have the cash ready by Friday.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” I asked.

Leopold shook his head. “A girl like Ashley would probably appreciate being able to walk away with the money in her hand over a bank transfer that could reverse itself after she’s gone to the police.”

“Besides,” added Sebastian. “She’ll be able to produce signed contracts for the transfer of her share of the house, so she’s less likely to be accused of money laundering.”

I blew out a long breath. The most money I’d ever dealt with was the monthly bursary, and that dwindled to a three-figure sum once the bank processed all the direct debits. “I suppose you’re right.”

Mr. Pinkerton updated us on his progress with Prakash’s case. He informed us that the youth offending team had turned down our request to visit him because of his prior trouble with the police, history of violence, and his being the prime suspect in the murder of Corrine Gibbons. He said he would continue trying, but I didn’t hold out much hope for his success.

We spent the rest of the holiday at the club, needing to stay close to the detention center in case someone changed their mind. They didn’t. Leopold and Sebastian worked with the lawyer to pay Ashley the amount she demanded, and I signed the contracts Mr. Pinkerton had drawn up, and the Land Registry forms to transfer Ashley’s share of the house to me.

By the time term started, we were in no mood for anyone’s bullshit, especially that of the knights or the queens. In Information Technology class, Geraldine and Bianca sat at the computer to my right with their heads stuck together, whispering and casting me filthy glances. The computer on my left was conspicuously empty, as I only shared this class with Prakash.

“Settle down, Misses Hill and Byrd,” said Mr. Waterford, our IT teacher.

“Sorry, sir!” Geraldine raised her hand. “But there’s an overwhelming stench of rancid pork in the air. Is there a dead pig carcass under the floorboards?”

Laughter erupted around the room.

I glowered at their smug faces. Geraldine had been pretty vocal since Prakash’s arrest. She probably thought that with the kings’ waning popularity, it was safe to challenge their authority.

Mr. Waterford shook his head and went back to his computer.

There was no point in striking out with an insult. So much had happened in my time at Brittas Academy that an indirect barb barely registered on my hurt-o-meter. And everything paled in comparison to what Prakash would be suffering in a juvenile detention center.

The next class was a free period, as I had ditched the swimming team. I walked toward the library, in the opposite direction to the swimming block.

Younger students gaped and whispered as I strode through the busy hallway. Between Ashley and myself, we’d been at the center of each major scandal to have taken place this year. No one insulted me directly, likely because Sebastian and Leopold had announced that I was under their protection.

I pushed open the door leading to a stairwell and headed down to the library when two hands shoved me down the steps. The impact made one leg twist over the other, and I stumbled forward, my bag slipping from my shoulder.

Panic exploded in my heart. In a moment of reflexive action, my left hand grasped at the railing, saving me from a disastrous tumble.

“What a pity you didn’t fall flat on your face,” said Bianca.

“She would have bounced back with those tits,” added Geraldine.

Bianca snorted. “True.”

I scrambled to my feet and backed down the stairs until I reached the landing. If this ended up in another physical fight, I would fare better on even ground.

“How desperate.” I tried to keep the tremble out of my voice. “You two must have sprinted up the stairs and down the fourth-floor hallway.”

Bianca smirked. “It was worth the effort.”

“What do you want?” I snarled.

“Nobody likes you.” Geraldine strolled toward me as though she was descending the stairway in a Miss World contest. “Not even Cormac.”

My throat dried, and I pushed away my fallen bag with my foot. “I suppose he told you this?”

Her face widened into a grin. “Cormac and I have a connection that transcends words.”

Behind her, Bianca rolled her eyes.