RIOT HOUSE (Crooked Sinners #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,30
number of new students since the start of last winter, so this information’s important. Even if you were a student here last winter, I’d still appreciate a few seconds of your time to go over this. Think of it as a refresher.”
On the other side of the room, sitting on a yellow, worn sofa beneath a cliché and utterly classless print of Gustav’s Klimt’s ‘The Kiss,’ Carina nudges Elodie with her elbow and whispers something into her ear. In my mind, it’s me leaning into her, bringing my nose to her hair, close enough to catch the scent of her and store it to memory. I’ve imagined what the silken, smooth texture of her skin looks like up close, too. I’ve pored over her image on electronic screens and studied it committed in ink, but I haven’t held her down and inspected her features in person yet. I want to. More than anything, I want her underneath me, straining against me, as I figure out the way she frowns. I want to see what her fear looks like. Most importantly, I want to see the lie on her. The one all girls try to tell, when their panic catalyzes with their desire and they try to comprehend their own traitorous nature.
“In case you haven’t bothered to check the weather report over the past twenty-four hours, the entire state’s about to face down a major storm front,” Fitz says. “These storms can get pretty hairy. Lightning strikes. Flash flooding. Luckily for us, we’re on the top of a mountain, so we aren’t in any danger of getting washed away. Wolf Hall’s basically bomb proof. It was built to withstand crazy weather. The wind can get pretty treacherous up here, though. Once the storm hits, there’ll be strict rules in place. No venturing off academy grounds. No leaving the building in general. If things start to look really sketchy, there have been occasions when Principal Harcourt deems it fit to move everyone into the basement, just in case. In the unlikely event that we need to evacuate the site, every student needs to be aware of the protocols set in place...”
Fitz rambles on about the buses that will come to take us down the mountain if a state of emergency is declared. He goes over the emergency exit points, first aid points, blah blah fucking blah. I turn off, bored to my back fucking teeth. I’ve heard it all a thousand times before. Elodie hasn’t, though. She’s transfixed, hanging on Fitz’s every word, taking mental notes in case disaster comes looking for us here at Wolf Hall. A strange, unfamiliar part of me wants to reassure her and let her know that there’s nothing to worry about. The rest of me, the part I’m intimately acquainted with, relishes the sight of her, all timorous and concerned.
I like her clothes. Her ‘smile if you’re dead inside’ t-shirt’s just as cliché as the Klimt painting, but it tells me something about the way she sees herself. Her distressed jeans are so tight, they look like they’ve been painted onto her thighs. My palms ache with the idea of what her skin, muscle and bone might feel like through the worn, soft denim. The scruffy Chuck Taylors look so lived in that I can tell she’s put hundreds of miles on them. I prefer the Doc Martins she usually wears, but I enjoy the way the Chucks make her feet look small and petite. My little Elodie has the feet of a fucking geisha.
“That said, these warnings sound scary, but there really is nothing to worry about. This will be my tenth year teaching at Wolf Hall. A few fallen trees are the worst I’ve ever seen. Go about your day as normal. Do your work, make sure you follow the rules, and everything will be business as usual.”
Fitz’s statement doesn’t make Elodie feel better. Our eyes lock from across the room, and the panic in her gaze makes my pulse soar. She frowns, creases forming across her forehead, and I realize that I’m staring without the convenience of my Ray Bans to disguise my interest.
Look away, Jacobi.
Look away.
I should, but I don’t. I’m trapped by the pressure of her eyes on me. A slow, cunning smile begs to be unleashed across my face, and I relent, giving it free rein. Elodie jumps, startled, like I just dumped a bucket of ice-cold water over her head. She looks away first, and the satisfaction that courses