RIOT HOUSE (Crooked Sinners #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,17

“I’m glad we ironed out a deal with The Contessa,” I grit out through my teeth. “You gotta get the fuck out of my room, though, dude. I’m serious. I gotta get this paper done. I need to clear my head, and I can’t do that with you bringing that shit up, yeah?”

I wait for Pax to argue. Arguing is second nature to him; he grew up in a house full of lawyers. For better or for worse, he chooses to keep a civil tongue in his head instead. “All right, man. No drama. I’m gonna head down to Cosgroves’ and grab some beers. You want something?”

I clench my jaw so hard that it cracks when I force my mouth open to speak. “Not beer. A forty of Jack,” I tell him.

“Whew. Going big on a school night. My favorite kind of Jacobi.” He leaves, humming a raucous song under his breath, and I sit very still, with an image of Elodie Stillwater blazing in my mind.

Why am I so dead set on her?

Because she’s innocent, and I’m not.

Because she’s wholesome, and I’m not.

Because she’s untainted, and I’m not.

And, most importantly of all, because she’ll be so pretty when I make her cry.

5

ELODIE

“We should have met yesterday, Ms. Stillwater, but I’ve found that giving a student a day or two to settle in can be helpful. I knew Carina would do a good job of showing you around. She’s a good girl. A good friend, if you’re in the market for one. I apologize for putting you all the way up there on the fourth floor, but four-sixteen was our only available room. I hope you’re comfortable enough. Please pass on our apologies to your father. Colonel Stillwater was very clear that he wanted you situated on the second floor, but there’s nothing we can do right now. Maybe next semester—”

“Really, Principal Harcourt, it’s not a problem. I don’t mind being on the fourth floor.” Yes, it’s a pain in the ass having to hike all the way up those stairs, but apart from being in such close proximity to Damiana and the blistering cold in my room it doesn’t really make much of a difference where I sleep in this godforsaken place. It’s all the same to me.

Principal Harcourt nods, fidgeting in her chair. Her office is imposing, just as old and drafty as the rest of Wolf Hall, but it’s light and airy and feels less oppressive than the rest of the academy. The woman herself is in her late forties, with a touch of steel grey in her long dark hair that’s swept back into an uncompromising chignon. Her eyes are a little distracted, unfocused as they flit around the room, landing on everything from her academic texts, the plaques on her walls, and the wilting peace lily in the pot on her desk, but never resting on me.

“I had the pleasure of meeting your father once. Quite an intimidating man,” she says breathily.

Intimidating? She really doesn’t know the half of it. I fiddle with the apple I’m holding in my hands, worrying at its stalk. The inch-long woody stem snaps off in my fingers, and I let it fall to the floor. “Yes. He’s very well respected.” I could say so much more. I could tell her about the nights I spent twisted up and afraid beneath my bedsheets, wondering if he was going to burst through my bedroom door at any moment. She’d understand then how unimportant the location my bedroom here at Wolf Hall really is to me, so long as I’m as far away from him as is physically possible.

“Now,” the principal says awkwardly, opening up the top drawer of her desk. She takes out a sheet of paper and sets it down in front of her, sliding it toward me. “I hate to have to go through this with you, but I’m afraid it’s academy policy. Here at Wolf Hall, there are a number of things we do not tolerate. As you’ll see from this student-faculty agreement, the use or possession of drugs is strictly prohibited. We also do not allow any sort of…carousing. Ahem. Contact of a sexual nature is also prohibited. No members of the opposite sex on any of our female or male floors. No inappropriate touching, or…or…well, you can read for yourself there, can’t you. You can leave the academy on the weekends, but doors are locked by nine o’clock sharp. During the week, you must remain here