Grey pairs her phone to the projector and an invoice flashes on the sheet hanging from the criss-crossing roof beams. A light breeze flows through the windows. There are no screens, so there’s nothing obstructing our view of the stars.
Grey’s curls swing back and forth as she turns to face us, wiping a palm against that ridiculous floor-length skirt. A ripple of irritation fills me when I see that thing. I really don’t care about her outfit choices. If she wants to dress in an ancient freaking toga, it makes no difference to me.
But the fact that she’s changing what she likes to wear because people are talking about her?
Screw that.
Besides it’s a total waste of time.
Her curves are still tempting, even if they’re hidden. The attempt to cover her body does jack squat. I want to rip all that fabric off her and spread her legs more now than I did when she was wearing her sexy little pencil skirts.
Grey folds her hands together. “Last night, while I was talking to Finn, I had an epiphany.”
I spring to attention. “You were with Finn last night?”
My brother smirks knowingly at me.
White-hot jealousy unfurls, curling around my spine.
Dutch sits straighter, hearing the fight in my tone.
Sol rolls his eyes.
Grey pauses. The projector’s harsh white light pierces her skin and craters a black circle on her shirt that’s buttoned up to the neck.
I keep my scathing gaze on Finn. “What were you doing with her last night?”
“Why should I tell you?”
I’m ready to jump out of my seat and punch him in the face.
“We were just talking,” Grey snaps, looking annoyed.
Finn quirks an eyebrow, studying my response.
The freaking snot.
“Close your zippers and have your pissing contest later please.” Cadey waves a hand.
“Moving on, something Finn said sparked an idea.” Grey points to the document. “Have you ever heard of ‘The Grateful Project?’”
I glance around the room. Sol is chewing on popcorn like we’re watching a movie. Finn is squinting in concentration. Cadey is perched between Dutch’s legs, her arms looped under his knees and resting on his shins. His legs hang over her like he’s a human rollercoaster restraint.
Grey explains when no one speaks, “The Grateful Project was an initiative by the administration at Redwood. It was a way to encourage the rich and influential to donate to the scholarship fund.”
“It was for scholarship students?” Cadey clarifies.
“Yes. Every year, we were given these awful waitressing outfits and told to serve at the event. Some of us had to go on stage and read from the teleprompter. The speeches were these exaggerated summaries of our home lives. It was humiliating.”
Sol gives the screen a dark look. “I wish they’d try that on me.”
“I don’t think they would. Not with Jinx on the prowl. But back then, we didn’t really have a choice. The Grateful Project was something you agreed to when you accepted the scholarship.”
“What does this have to do with Sloane?” Dutch asks, unshakeably calm.
“Up until last night, nothing.” She pinches her phone screen and the image on the projector zooms in. “But look at that date.”
I peer at the numbers.
Sol leans forward so far he almost drops his popcorn.
“The Grateful Project was a once-a-year event. It usually happens somewhere between Christmas and New Year’s, when everyone is in a party and giving mood.”
“Makes sense,” Finn says.
“But this date says March,” I point out.
“Exactly. Why would there be an invoice for an event that had already taken place?”
“They could have been preparing for it in advance,” Dutch muses.
“True. But that doesn’t explain this.” She scrolls down and points to a series of numbers. “This is Sloane’s student ID.”
I flip my drumsticks, soaking in the information.
“The Grateful Project is the perfect feeding ground for predators. Think about it. If you wanted to match desperate scholarship girls with sick bastards willing to pay for underage sex…” She flinches a little and carefully avoids my gaze, “you do it in a way that won’t draw suspicion.” Her eyes slip to Finn. “You stay in darkness while telling everyone the light is on.”
Finn bobs his head.
“You’re saying The Grateful Project was a front,” Sol mumbles. “Do you know who was running it?”
“The night Sloane was murdered, she got a call from Harris.”
I feel a ripple of surprise tear through the room.
None of us expected a Harris name drop in association with this.
“He was the vice principal at the time. Which makes him calling Sloane that late at night even weirder.”
“You think Harris called Sloane to attend one of these…” Cadey waves a hand at the screen, “off-the-books ‘Grateful’ parties.”
“I do. And I think that’s where she met the guy who eventually killed her.”
A chilling hush fills the room.
We’re not dealing with a missing best friend, trying to kick the New Girl out of school, or surviving dad’s underhanded power plays anymore.
This is real life.
This is murder.
Sorrow fills Grey’s eyes. “She was my best friend. She didn’t deserve what happened to her. I want the world to acknowledge that Sloane was a victim of more than just the guy who took her life. She was a victim of the system. She was a victim of Redwood.”
Soft golden lamps shimmer in the wetness of her eyes. I hate seeing Grey in pain, so I start to get up, but Cadey beats me to it. She leaves her place between Dutch’s legs and wraps an arm around Grey’s waist.
“We’ll find everyone involved in this project and bring them to justice. I promise.”
Dutch meets his wife’s eyes and nods.
Sol snarls at the shadows. “Those sick bastards. Back then and now, nothing’s different. Nothing’s changed.”
Finn pushes his hands through his hair. He’s the quietest of us, but I can tell he’s invested.
“What do we need to do first?” I ask.
Grey looks at me. “There’s a basement under the school. Harris put it under lock and key after our talk. I need to get back in there. I can use all the hands I can get.”
“Done,” Dutch says.
“You said there’s a lock?” Finn purses his lips. “If Harris went so far as to put a lock on the door, he’ll notice if it’s been tampered with.”
I consider it. “What if we steal the key?”
Dutch frowns. “We snuck into Redwood to steal something once. It didn’t turn out well.”
“This is different,” I argue.
“Harris has something to lose. He’s not going to leave the key somewhere we can find it,” Grey points out.
Cadey arches a brow. “She’s right. It’s too risky. If Harris sees that things have been shuffled around in the basement, he might do something even more drastic.” She shakes her head, dark hair spilling around her shoulders. “We need to find another way.”
Grey makes a frustrated sound. “I don’t care if Harris finds out, but I can’t afford for him to destroy that room before I have a chance to go through everything.”
We all fall into thoughtful silence again.
“I have an idea,” I murmur.
Everyone turns to look at me.
“It’s a little crazy,” I add.
“No one assumed that brain of yours could come up with anything sane,” Cadence says dryly.
Grey’s brown eyes burrow into me, alert and waiting.
“What if there’s a way we could take all the boxes out? If we get them into our territory, we can go through them without having to sneak into Redwood’s basement every time.”
“How would we take them out?” Dutch asks. “There’s security twenty-four seven. Even if we go under the cover of night, it would raise a ton of suspicion.”
“And how would we keep Harris from knowing it was us?” Sol points out.
“It’ll require dressing up.” I smirk at Grey.
She narrows her eyes slightly.
I swing around to Sol who stares right back at me with those eyes that used to sparkle and now look dead. “And I’ll need something from you.”
“What?”
“You still remember how to start a fire?”
Jinx: You can’t banish a king from his own kingdom
Today, our royal percussionist barged into Redwood with a glittering black carriage. His Cinderella didn’t seem that happy to see him. Was Snare King sweeping his lady love off her feet or was it a royal kidnapping? They’re both on borrowed time. I wonder what happens when that carriage turns into a rotten pumpkin?
Tick-Tock, Sexy Teach.
Let’s see if your scandal can really turn into a fairytale.
Until the next post, keep your enemies close and your secrets even closer.
– Jinx
