Their Will be Done - Logan Fox Page 0,71

behind his cigarette. “Zach can explain it better than me.”

“So that’s it? He has issues, so he can get away with whatever he wants?”

“Yeah, no,” Apollo murmurs. “On that count, you’re very fucking wrong.” He stands. “Anyway, you have school tomorrow. You should get back to bed.”

I stand and quickly drain the last of my hot chocolate.

“Just leave it there,” he says, waving in the general direction of the cup as he walks past me. “I’ll come fetch it tomorrow.”

My eyes skip past him. The door he took me through yesterday is hidden behind the massive bronze bell. If I had X-ray vision, I would have been able to see that incriminating photo through the bell and the wall.

I hurry to catch up to Apollo. “Did you find anything?”

“Hmm?” He flicks the butt of his cigarette over the balcony and glances down at me a second before he slides his arm over my shoulder and hugs me closer. “Oh, yeah. Fuck. I totally forgot to tell you.”

I stop walking.

He turns, frowning curiously as he faces me. “What now?” he asks through a laugh.

“What did you find?”

“You sound surprised. Did you think we wouldn’t?”

“Apollo!”

He shrugs. “We found what we were looking for, Trin.” When I scowl at him, he uses a thumb to smooth down my brows. “Sorry, but it’s not my place to tell you.”

“Then whose it is?”

Another shrug. “Speak to Reuben. Maybe he’ll tell you.”

“And if he won’t?”

Apollo bops my nose with a knuckle. “Then I guess you’ll just have to keep asking until you find what you’re looking for.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

Trinity

Reuben isn’t in morning prayers. I wolf down my breakfast and hunt around the campus for him, but without being able to ask anyone where he is, it’s no surprise when I turn up empty-handed.

Gabriel said he was the same year as me, but I haven’t seen him in any of my classes. I could see if he’s attending one of the others this morning. So I head out early to the classroom block and stalk the halls like a petite, poop-colored version of Death.

But either he has a free period this morning or he’s playing hooky, because I don’t spot him anywhere.

Cass looks up when I walk into English class five minutes late, and sends the kind of wolfish grin I’ve come to expect from him my way.

Because I’m late, Sharon gives me a rap on my knuckles that stings well into the rest of the lesson. It’s impossible to miss how much Cass enjoys my punishment—I’d be shocked if he doesn’t have a boner.

A few minutes into the lesson, a teacher comes to speak to Sister Sharon. She instructs us to read from our textbooks while she’s gone before slipping out of the classroom.

“Morning, slut,” Cass whispers into my ear before the door’s finished swinging closed. “Hear you’ve been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong again.”

I sit forward, crossing my arms over my chest and pretending to ignore him.

If I can’t find Reuben, then the alternative is asking Zachary or Cass. But screw that, there’s no way I’ll be asking Cass anything.

I’ll find Reuben, even if I spend all day looking.

Thank God it doesn’t take me the whole day. A few minutes before lunch I pass the little prayer room. The hall is empty, so on impulse, I decide to slip inside and check for Reuben.

He’s kneeling on one of the cushions, head bowed, hands meshed in prayer.

“Hey,” I call out, and then do a double take.

Is that the same pillow—?

Nope. Push that thought right out of your mind, Trinity.

Walking closer, I brush my collarbones. Is it weird that I miss his rosary? I’d gotten into the habit of toying with it—I had to go back to playing with my hair instead.

I stand for a minute or so behind him, but he doesn’t acknowledge my presence. If my business with him hadn’t been so urgent, I’d have taken the hint and left.

But I have to know what they found. If they have actual evidence against Gabriel…

I go to kneel beside him, grabbing another cushion for my knees. I glance at him and then mimic his pose.

And I manage to stay that way for a whole ten seconds before my patience runs out.

“I’m sorry to interrupt you—”

“Then don’t,” Reuben says.

Wow. Cranky much? I shift on the cushion, glancing at him again.

His red rosary is tangled in his fingers, the crucifix dangling down between his wrists.

I have to get him to talk to me. If not him, then