Trick Me Twice - Becca Steele Page 0,83

you really okay with all of this?”

Her brows pulled together, but then her expression smoothed out. “I was a bitch. I know. I just, well, I am a bitch. Apparently.” She laughed humourlessly. “I will admit that I felt…possessive of Carter, I guess, at the beginning. But it’s become clear to me that you both have feelings for each other. I’m not hung up on him or anything. I promise you that.”

My mind raced, going back over what she’d said. “Wait. Those pictures that appeared. Did you have anything to do with those?”

She recoiled as if I’d slapped her. “What?” Her shocked whisper was louder than a shout. “Are you serious? Did someone say it was me?”

“If it wasn’t you, then who?” Icy tendrils of dread prickled my spine. “What about the masked figure? And the money?”

“What are you talking about?” Confusion was followed by worry. “Raine, are you in trouble?”

“Tell us what’s going on.” Xavier’s tone was commanding. He reached over and scooped Imogen into his lap, then sidled across to her empty seat. She leaned back on him, but her gaze was focused on me. Anastasia moved closer, Emmeline occupied talking to one of her friends on the other side of us.

In halting tones, I told them everything. How the money had been stolen and made to look like I’d taken it, and Ana had been the only person other than Carter and the teaching staff who had known about my financial situation at that point; how the masked figure had appeared at the party and tried to grab me; and how someone had managed to take photos of me and Carter through a locked door and post them and deface my locker. By the time I’d finished speaking, my voice was wobbly from trying to hold in the tears.

“Raine.” Ana swallowed hard and placed a tentative hand on my arm. “I’m sorry. I had…I had no idea how bad things were. I know that’s not an excuse. When you came to the table at lunchtime and Carter shot you down, I…I felt really bad. You didn’t deserve to be spoken to that way. I should have said something to Tina. The stuff she said to you…that wasn’t right.”

Imogen interrupted her. “It couldn’t have been Anastasia at the party, anyway. Straight after the spin the bottle game, we were both doing shots with some of our friends, and Ana ended up drinking too much, and I had to take her drunk ass home.”

A cold trickle of fear made its way down my spine.

Xavier pursed his lips, deep in thought. “Okay. I think there’s an explanation for the party photos. Earlier that night, before the spin the bottle game we, I mean, I was in the office briefly.” I noticed Imogen’s cheeks flush as he spoke. “There’s a window. It’s quite high up, so you might not have noticed it, but anyone could take a photo through there if they climbed up on something. Wouldn’t need to even be anything that big. A crate or something would probably be enough.”

I thought back to the angle of the photos. “You’re right. I don’t know why I never thought of that before. But I don’t know who it could be. Who else would hate me that much?”

Nobody had any answers. Eventually Xavier sighed. “Let’s talk about it more later. You need to go and meet Carter. He’ll kill us if we don’t get you there. He’s got plans for the two of you.”

Suddenly, the fear was replaced with warmth. Excitement coursed through me, and my smile reappeared. “I’d better go and meet him, then.”

35

A combination of relief and exhilaration was filling me, leaving me with a permanent grin. So much of tonight had relied on outside factors—Imogen keeping her word to bring Raine with her, everyone else going along with my plan, and more importantly, Raine actually forgiving me after all the shit I’d put her through.

After I’d seen the picture of Raine with Cassius and pretty much lost it, I’d got to work. My mind flashed back to the most awkward part of the week.

“Dad? I need to speak to you. Both of you, I guess.” My parents stared at me across the table, seemingly taken aback by the serious tone of my voice.

“Speak up, then. What is it? Is this about your grades?” My dad placed the fork on his plate with a clatter.

I shook my head, gritting my teeth and balling my fists, forcing myself not to react.