“I think you know, Charlotte.” He advances toward me.
In a flash, everything clicks. This entire thing wasn’t about Professor Rook. It was about Rhiannon. Grady’s ex-girlfriend.
Grady’s expression is ominous. Shoulders hunched. Jaw squared in determination. “Professor Rook sold her the drugs. So I ended him.”
“But… You weren’t even back from Austin yet.” As slowly as I can, I skim my hand along the bench behind me, grasping for anything to use as a weapon. My fingers come away empty, dusted with potting soil.
Grady’s hair brushes his brow as he shakes his head. “Come on, blondie. Ever heard of a private jet?”
My chest constricts. I have, actually, but Daddy doesn’t use them because of his “of the people” persona. No. When we fly somewhere we fly business class. I kind of admire him for it, and also find it irksome. I’ve seen those coach seats, and they look nice. But now is not the time to dwell on that.
Grady’s eyes slice through me like a hot scoop through cold ice cream. “Once I had Rook out of the way, I focused on the next target—Gul. I figured she spread those rumors about Rhiannon that got back to her folks. They didn’t let her come back to school this year. And then there’s you.”
Me? I’m the one who told Rhiannon to go to the professor in the first place. I was right to blame myself. And from the menacing look on Grady’s face, he does too. I lick my lips. I have to stall. Or I’ll be victim number three. “Did you see Gul on your way out here? She was supposed to meet me.”
Grady’s smile curls further into a sneer. Dark pools shade his deep set eyes. When he speaks, his voice is transformed. Infused with venom. “You’re such a liar. She’s not coming. I already took care of that loose-lipped cow.”
The anxiety that had lit in my belly grows into full-blown panic. Cold sweat makes my palms go clammy. “What did you do to her?”
Without taking his eyes off me, Grady reaches across the wooden bench and tugs at the plastic dry ice bag. It drags against the back edge of the bench as it comes free. “Doesn’t take long to suffocate someone. Had to do it to my hamster once, after it had a stroke. Turns out, people look a lot like that when they die. Bulging eyes. Clawing breaths.”
My eyes run over his arms, looking for signs of a fight. There’s nothing.
Grady’s got a long-sleeve black shirt on under his Dallas jersey. A white star against a silver background. The star snags at something in my memory, bringing it to the surface. A white star reflected in a pane of glass. “The video of Kenneth and Professor Rook. You took it, didn’t you?”
He taps a finger to his temple. Brandishes the bag with the other. “Two down, one to go.”
Professor Rook and Gul. Dead. I’m next.
Gulp.
“You don’t have to do this. I won’t tell anyone what you did. Kenneth will go down for it. All of it.”
Grady rolls his eyes. “This ain’t about justice.”
“So he’s innocent, then?” Despite the peril of my situation, I have to know. Was my gut completely wrong about Kenneth? Or just a little off?
The boy eyes me. “Don’t know. Wasn’t me who gave you those shiners that time, though. Wanted to thank whoever it was, but didn’t get the chance.”
So it was Kenneth who attacked me earlier this semester. Everything else? The perpetrator is glaring right at me. “This is wrong. It isn’t justice.”
Grady’s laugh is short, harsh. “It’s revenge. Rhiannon didn’t deserve what y’all did to her. She never would’ve taken pills if you hadn’t given her a shove.” He looms toward me. Calculating fingers grazing the bench edges as he comes.
I scuttle backward, eyes scanning for a way out. If I can just reach the end of the aisle, then maybe I can bolt down the next one.
Grady charges, lowering his shoulder to plow through me.
My heart skitters. Tripping over a watering line, I tumble butt first toward the gravel floor. My fingernails scrape the table edge. Splinters bite into my fingertips. I land in moist, heady earth. Clenching my fists, I fling the dirt into Grady’s eyes.
“Argh!” He rears back, pawing at his eyes. “You bitch.”
I don’t give him another shot at ending me. I’m up in a single second. Rounding the center bench and powering up the other aisle. Eyes locked on the exit door. Hands outstretched.
A bellow cuts through the air as something heavy smashing into the side of my head. Dirt rains down the front of my dress. Stars cloud my vision as the pain radiates through my skull and down my neck. I have to… I’m so close… But I can’t focus on anything but the waves pummeling my brain.
Rough arms grab me from behind, locking around my waist and cutting off my air. “Got you.” Grady’s hot breath rushes over my neck, making my stomach lurch.
I try to focus on the self-defense training I got, but it flies out of my head when the dry ice bag is thrust down over my head. I can’t smell it, but I know there’s CO2 in the bag. Enough to kill me?
I thrash. Kick. Elbow. Fight with everything I’ve got.
It’s not enough.
The bag tightens around my neck, cutting into the skin below my jaw. “No!” The scream rings in my ears as I claw at the heavy-duty plastic. Trying to make holes so I can breathe.
My lungs keep fighting. Rise. Fall. Burn. I’m running out of oxygen.
34
A cold wind slaps my calves, jerking me awake. My eyes focus, and immediately snap shut again. I’m staring five storeys down to the brown, withered grass of the shadowed academy courtyard. The trees lash back and forth in the wind. The few remaining leaves are flung mercilessly, their brittle edges scraping the ground. Not a single person is down there to see me. To call for help.
Grady is holding me over the edge of the building. His biting hands clutch my waist. Fingertips dig into my skin. The scrolled lip of the roofline cuts into my stomach. My skin scrapes until it’s raw. The icy current lashes my skirt against my legs. Goosebumps line my flesh.
The bag is still over my head, but Grady’s fingers are no longer choking off my air supply. I take in a gulp of air. Flimsy plastic sucks inward toward my mouth. I stop it with one hand. Fight down the panic. The flailing makes my torso wobble over the concrete edge. I scramble with both hands, searching for something to grip. Anything.
“Awake, eh? Ready for your last flight?”
“Grady, don’t do this.” My mouth is muffled by the bag. My feet scramble over the flat roof, my steps uneven. I’ve lost one of my shoes. Rough tar digs into tender skin of my toes.
“Have to. I’m fixing to finish what I started. Rhiannon deserves justice, and I’m gonna give it to her.”
My fingers wrap around a piece of decorative trim. A handhold. I push up with all my might. Arms straining against gravity. A powerful groan cuts through the quiet. My heart leaps before I realize the soul-shaking sound came from me.
Grady slams my abdomen down over the decorative stone, forcing the breath from my chest.
My lungs work feverishly to puff out my chest in an even rhythm. I can’t stop gasping. My eyes lock on the ground five storeys below. Gentle hills covered in dead, beige grass and dotted with naked, spooky trees. A worn cobblestone walkway. If I fall from this far up, what are the odds I’ll survive? My stomach clenches as fear flows from my core through my entire being. My heart skitters around my rib cage, making my thoughts fuzzy.