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“I’d still be on record. Fake name or not, people will see me.”
“Gray.”
The cracks in the wood floor guided me along my pacing trail. Did people have this much trouble sticking to a fucking decision? Why, after thirteen years, was I mulling over a risk like this?
I’d passed up a normal life a long time ago. Agreed to live in the mundane. The safe. I’d passed up college for the sake of keeping myself grounded with Azra. I’d instantly dismissed a disgustingly cool potential career in the police investigative force. I’d rejected romantic partners who had even the smallest of ties to the archangel social circles.
Now, I was talking to one? I had a death wish. That was the only explanation.
My fingers found my temples, pressing, circling, trying to get some common sense in with the blood flow. Images of Benjamin Castile’s corpse flashed in my memories.
“Gray.”
I jerked to a stop and glanced over.
He’d kicked his foot over his other knee, looking like a godsdamn model with the pose, though it was clear he wasn’t even trying. He just looked that good.
“Gray, look at me.”
“I am.”
“You’re staring at my legs. I understand they’re impressive, but—”
“Shut up.” To my credit, I’d said it to his face.
Those crystalline eyes sparkled. He held my gaze for an infuriatingly long time while heat sizzled deeper into me.
What was I? Embarrassed? Irritated? Scared?
He said, “I don’t know why hiding is important to you, and I don’t exactly care. But no one knows you even exist. You conceal yourself well in plain sight. You know how to avoid standing out, beyond the obvious. I doubt anyone will remember when the investigation is done or failed.”
“Beyond the obvious?”
“Really, it’s a wonder that no one else stops and stares. Incredible how you’ve pulled it off.”
I waited for him to explain, but he didn’t. The pause hung like heavy, overripe fruit. He wanted me to ask what he meant. For some reason, I didn’t want to know.
Because the implication, with his smooth words and velvet voice, was that he thought I was beautiful.
“Your answer, Gray. I need an answer.”
“I’m not going to agree to anything without a contract outlining all details,” I shot back before I could stop myself.
What the fuck? Why was I digging myself into this hole?
In a fluid, dramatic motion, Razai extracted a folder from inside his jacket and, with a flourish, held it out for me.
Godsdamn it. He came prepared.
Chapter Nine
The contract stated that I would be hired by the school to investigate the crimes and discover the culprit. The position would be on a short-term basis, while acting as an administrative staff member to see to the grades and academic performance of the students after such a time of tragedy and fear. The position was called ‘community coordinator’ and would act as an unofficial assistant to the university counselors.
Smart. There’s too much schooling and licensing paperwork to forge for a real counselor. Community coordinator is the Dollar General version of one.
Here, in this secret contract, I would be the direct hire of President Ronan Castile and Professor Razai Karah. Under my real name. Official for the world to see, I would be hired by the school under a fake name.
Investigator will be given full faculty-permitted access to campus grounds during day. Full access to entire campus after curfew.
