Chapter Eight
Amelie
I don’t hesitate to skip the rest of my classes for the day. I’m too upset to sit in class and be stared at and talked about. Fuck that.
I don’t have Susan to scream at me for not being in the right place, and no one comes looking for me, so I can get away with it for now at least. I doubt Monty will give me too much of a hard time when he finds out; it was his sons - those perfect prefects - who leaked my private file anyway. He isn’t going to like that, at all.
I fell straight in bed and napped for a bit, and have just woken up. I feel a little better, I guess. I get that the twins hate me, that they want me gone. To me they are just collateral damage, but to do something so damn hurtful is barbaric… I vow that my payback will be sweet.
My iPhone is stashed in a packet of pads, the overnight kind. I may have ran in for a phone, but was smart enough to grab some supplies. The massive pads were big enough to fold around my phone because I wasn’t sure if they do room checks here.
Powering on the mobile, I get myself dressed in my jeans and a nice top that I snagged from the Knox house on Sunday.
I don’t want to think about it as being my room, my stuff.
It feels too much like the incubator is trying to buy my.
..well, I highly doubt she gives a shit about my love, but my approval at least. I may feel crappy, but I don’t have to look it.
The clothes are just sitting there, she clearly intended for me to have them, so why shouldn’t I wear them?
Have to say, the bitch does have good taste.
I have half a dozen messages waiting to be read and I smile because I know they’ll be birthday well-wishes from my family, because in Australia right now, it’s already my birthday.
My brother and Smalls have always stayed up late to wish me a Happy Birthday bang on midnight, and I’m pretty sure that no amount of ocean or miles between us will change that.
The messages are from a few hours ago and they will all be asleep right now.
Big Bro
Happy birthday, baby sis. Hope it's so terrible there that you come home.
Smalls
Happy birthday, baby girl, miss you so damn much. My heart aches for you.
Dad
Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Will call you soon.
Shit! I need to take my phone with me when I go to dinner tomorrow. Maybe I could just take the SIM card and slip it into the decoy phone I left at the house? That would be easier to smuggle in than a whole phone? I’ll consider it more carefully later.
Sawyer
I can’t stop thinking about you. Let’s meet up again.
I fire back a response:
Amelie
I have a gut feeling I will be seeing you very soon.
He replies back instantly:
Sawyer
Hmm that sounds promising. How about Wednesday night, my place?
Amelie
I have plans? How about tonight?
I don’t have plans, but I have a feeling that after tomorrow night he will know who I am and all bets will be off.
Sawyer
I have a thing after work...
Amelie
Okay. Well, if you change your mind :)
Sawyer
*MMS message downloading…*
Holy shit! He just sent me a nude picture! Well, it kinda stops before you see more than the base of his junk but holy cow! This just got better than I thought. Happy birthday to me, indeed.
I reply to my brother and Smalls, because they both know I have my phone. Dad doesn’t, but he threw me under this bus by sending me here, and I don’t trust he won’t tell the she-devil and get it taken off me, so I don’t bother to reply to him.
I decide, after that picture, that I need to blow off some steam, So I reply back to Sawyer.
Amelie
To avoid sounding desperate, what are you doing tonight?
His response takes a few minutes.
Sawyer
Grading papers but would welcome a distraction.
Amelie
Ping me your address and I will see you very soon. :) 7 sound good?
I throw the phone down and race into the shower so that I can get ready.
I know Sawyer is a means to an end, but I’m not blind, he is very attractive.
I haven’t been with a guy intimately in a while.
My brother and Smalls and every one of their friends made sure of that.
I can’t blame them for being protective after what happened to me.
I thought I would never be able to be with someone again, that they would have robbed me of my ability to make a sexual connection, yet now I’m almost numb to it, in a way.
I lock it all in a place where it can’t hurt me.
When it’s time, I know that leaving the school grounds will be tricky, but I skulk around like a damn cat burglar.
“Going somewhere?” A very girly squeal peels from my lips.
“Baxter? What are you doing here?”
“Campus security, helping girls escape since 2015.”
Most people would question his motives; I’m sure to the average eye he would be someone you would cross the street to get away from, but I can see it’s all an act.
“Well then, it’s my lucky night.”
“Let’s go, before we both have another visit with my buddy, headmaster Knox.” I laugh and follow Baxter to the edge of the school grounds, to a place I wouldn’t ever have considered as a viable way out. Maybe he is really going to off me in the woods.
We eventually come to a clearing, where there’s a motorbike chained to a tree.
“You keep a bike to escape this place?”
“Me and my buddy have an understanding, he turns a blind eye, as long as no one else finds out.”
“So how does that help me?”
“I’ll give you a lift.”
Getting on the back of a bike isn’t new to me, but telling Baxter where I’m going is an issue.
“I won’t tell anyone what you’re up to. Breaking you out would get me expelled, and as much as I hate this dump, I can’t afford to be kicked out.”
What are the chances he knows where Sawyer lives? It isn’t possible… but why is he even helping me?
“Fine,” I pull up the gps on my phone and show him where I need to go. It’s only about five minutes from here anyway by bike.
“So you decided to go after the big brother first? You must have some big balls.” He smirks.
“Something like that,” I mutter in response, wondering how the hell he knows that the address belongs to Sawyer.
“Here,” he says, handing me his phone. “Program your number and call yourself.”
I do as he asks, thinking it can’t hurt to have his number. He seems like he could be a good ally to have here at Knox.
He mounts the bike after unchaining it and hands me the only helmet that was resting on the handlebars. I chuck it on the grass and get on the bike behind him. He doesn’t chastise me for refusing to wear the lid, just revs the engine and tells me to hold on tight.
We take off, winding between trees until we finally hit an open road, which is a much smoother ride.
Once I know I’m not about to be flung off the back, and my bones have stopped rattling, I relax a little and enjoy the ride.
It’s exhilarating and I love it, but I don’t know if my jubilation comes from the wind whipping my face, or the freedom of being off campus for something other than a fake family meal.
Within five minutes we have stopped at the end of Sawyer’s street, Baxter steadies the bike so I can climb off, he helps me fix my hair, which is pretty wild. Probably should have worn the helmet after all.
“Call me when you’re done, and I will be here waiting.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I don’t, but I’m feeling generous. I mean, it is almost your birthday after all.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just know things.” He laughs
“How do I look?” I change the topic.
“Fuckable,” he replies without hesitation. “Man’s a fool if he doesn’t tap that.” He winks and takes off.
Walking down the street it still feels weird to me that there are so many duplex style houses here, all so close together. But I find his place easily and knock.
My breath is lost when he opens the door in a pair of sweats and a white shirt tight enough to show the definition of his muscles. His colourful tattoos line his right arm.
He steps aside to let me in. I was expecting a bachelor pad, but this feels very homely and my mind wanders to a life where I would go to work and come home to a cosy place like this with it’s dark wood and light coloured furnishings.
“Hi,” he says breaking the silence.
“Hi back. Nice house.”
“Thanks, take a seat.”
I get the feeling he doesn’t do this often; most guys would be quick to guide you into the bedroom.
I don’t know what it is about him, but I feel a pull between us.
I’m sure it’s only sexual and we can both benefit from this before it all comes crashing down.
I almost feel bad for him that he has to be collateral damage, but if he's anything like his brothers, I’m sure he will deserve it too.
“Drink?” he offers, holding up a bottle of whiskey from one of those fancy looking mini bars that rich guys generally have.
“Sure.” He pours two glasses and takes a seat beside me.
“How did it go with those papers?” I ask, trying to make small talk.
“I gave up, most days I love teaching but some kids make it so hard.”
“I’m sure they do.”
“So what do you do here?”
“Here as in England? I go to school.” Why lie?
“What are you studying?” It isn’t my fault that he just presumes I’m older.
“This and that, I’m still undecided.”
“So if school specifically didn’t bring you all this way, then what?” He leans back into the couch, relaxing a little.
“I suppose, my mother.” The word mother feels like acid coming off my tongue. I’m done with the small talk. I swallow the rest of my drink in one go, placing my glass on the small coffee table.
Moving so I'm straddling his lap, I see he is caught off guard by my sudden forwardness, but my hands on either side of his face help him to be in the moment.