Cass grabs the other towel and slings it around his waist. “So you wanna fuck in the bedroom or on the couch?” he asks as a wicked grin slides onto his mouth.
“Get out!” I stab a finger at the door.
He chuckles as he leaves the bathroom, but the sound cuts off as soon as I kick the door closed behind him with a strangled yell.
I should be shocked. Terrified even. But I’m just fucking angry.
How dare he?
How fucking dare he?
The worst part is, my body hasn’t caught up yet. I’m still aching inside, and the more I move about trying to get my wits about me, the worse it gets. I feel like I’m going to implode.
Fuck.
I glare up at the ceiling, bite down on my lip, squeeze closed my eyes, and shove a hand between my legs.
But I wrench it away before I touch myself, shame worming through every inch of me.
I deserve this frustration for being such an idiot. Priests remain celibate all the time. Nothing to it.
I dry off and dress, and as I’m about to leave the bathroom, I hear Reuben’s apartment door opening.
Thank God. At least I don’t have to face him. My hand is on the door handle when I hear voices.
“What are you doing here?” Reuben asks.
I freeze, straining to hear through the door.
“Lady Malone needed a shower. I’m her escort.”
“Your hair is wet.”
“And?”
“Why is your hair wet?”
“I had a shower too.”
My chest clenches so tight, I can barely breathe.
“Alone?”
“That would be wasting water,” Cass says through a laugh. “It was her idea.”
I bolt out of the bathroom. “He’s lying!”
Reuben turns his frown onto me. He’s wearing jeans and a tight-fitting sweater. Standing next to each other like that, it’s ridiculous to think I’d confused Cass for Reuben. They’re close in height, but Reuben’s almost twice his size.
Oh, you knew, you blasphemous little slut.
The immoral, sinful, hedonistic part of me I always suppress figured it out right away, but the bitch kept silent until it was too late. Until I was so caught up in—
“So you didn’t shower together?” Reuben asks, glancing back at Cass.
“No. I mean, we did, but—”
Reuben drops his gaze. “You should leave. I’m busy with an assignment.”
“It wasn’t my idea. He tricked me!”
But he walks into his room without a backward glance. Somehow, it’s worse that he closes the door quietly and doesn’t slam it. Disappointment always hurts so much more than anger.
“Shall we go?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow at me. He’s wearing a smug smile, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back on one foot. The epitome of someone having a rip-roaring good time.
“Asshole!” I throw him the finger, glaring at him as I storm over to the door and let myself out.
Everyone around here is crazy.
As I walk back to my room, my dirty clothes bundled against my chest, Alice in Wonderland plays on repeat through my head.
We’re all mad here.
We’re all mad here.
We’re all mad here.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Trinity
“Come.”
My heart flutters uneasily at Gabriel’s command. I tug at the waist of my dress before letting myself inside. The dark, long-sleeved dress—a creation that would have better suited Wednesday from the Adams family—sits tighter than I like it. I even considered opening some of the buttons that run down the front, but I was afraid I’d end up looking like an eighteenth-century prostitute. Mom bought the dress for me about two years ago and I guess I’ve filled out since then.
The smell of cigarettes and wood smoke wash over me as I open the second door leading into Gabriel’s living area.
He’s wearing a button-up shirt tonight, sleeves rolled up to mid-arm, and a pair of dark slacks.
“Good evening,” he says, turning from the fire to greet me.
I smile and lift my hand to wave.
He comes over, spreads his arms, and draws me into a hug. When I don’t hug him back, he hurriedly steps back and releases me.
“Is everything okay?”
Wet concrete pours into my stomach. “Yeah, of course,” I manage, although my voice is anything but steady. “I’m just a little tired. I haven’t been sleeping well.”
“When would you like to eat? Sister Miriam mentioned that you weren’t at lunch today, so I’m guessing—”
Is he keeping tabs on me?
He cuts off as if I’d asked the question out loud.
I guess if anyone’s going to notice I’m missing, it’ll be Miriam. And I’m much easier to spot than one of the hundreds of boys in this place.
You’re jumping at shadows, Trinity.
“I’m okay.” I force myself to move closer, pretending to warm myself by the fire. I’m already starting to sweat, but if I keep my distance, he might become suspicious. I can’t have him wondering if I have an ulterior motive for being here tonight.
Someone slipped another note under my door a little less than an hour ago. It wasn’t Cass’s handwriting, thank God. I assume it was Zachary’s.
Keep him busy until eight.
You’ll have 15 min alone.
Good luck.
It’s half-past seven. I should have asked for supper if only to pass the time, but I can’t eat when I’m this nervous.
The drive is hidden behind the elastic of my underwear. The dress’s fabric is too thick for it to stand out, but to me it feels like a massive, ticking bomb you’d have to be blind to miss.
“How was your…trip?” I hazard. It’s as good a question as any right? I have no idea where Gabriel’s been the past few days, so—
Checking in on the children he has holed up in a basement somewhere of course—children like Zachary and Reuben and Apollo and Cass. Maybe the Keepers in his newest hidey-hole fucked up and he had to go sort some shit out. Or maybe he brought some new Ghosts through for a tour of the premises.
These are the bunk beds our little sex slaves sleep in. Here are their chains. This is where we feed them, but only if they’ve been good little boys.
Jesus fuck, Trinity. What the hell is wrong with you? You’re here to prove Gabriel is innocent, or did you forget?
Still, I hear myself blurting out, “Where did you go?”
Gabriel lets out a soft laugh. “Nowhere interesting. I had a last-minute meeting with the construction company fixing up this old place.” A rueful smile touches his mouth. “I truly hope their estimate is accurate. I can’t have them gutting the school’s finances.”
Repair estimates and finances? Pointless. I have to get him talking about something personal. So I ask him the first thing that pops into my head.
“Were my parents good people?” I ask.
He frowns at me, and then slowly sinks into his chair. His eyes never leave me as he nips at the tip of a cigarette from his box and draws it out with his teeth to light it.
“Sit, child.”
I obey without thinking. Thankfully there’s already a chair near my ass else I’d have ended up on the floor because I obey without thinking.