Deceitful (Rules of Deception 1)

A minute before the bell rang, I started packing my backpack, eager to get out as fast as possible. There wasn’t much time to squeeze in a talk with Alec before the next class started. The bell rang and everyone began streaming out of the room.

“Madison, can you please stay behind for a moment? I want to discuss the assignments you missed while you were gone.”

So much for talking with Alec . . .

Ana mouthed “good luck” before she disappeared.

Mr. Yates and I were alone in the classroom. I hoped I wouldn’t have to make up work for all the classes I’d missed. I really had better things to do. Maybe someone from the FEA could do the homework for me.

“Could you please close the door? It’s getting loud outside.”

I did as he asked. My steps were the only sound as I made my way back to the front of the room where Mr. Yates was waiting. He stood behind his desk, fidgeting with a few papers. Something about the way he looked at me made me uncomfortable. It was off. There was something too familiar about it. It was certainly not a look I’d expected from a teacher. His eyes searched mine and I had to fight the urge to look away.

He walked around the desk. “I was so worried. It was torture not to be able to visit you in the hospital.” A horrible suspicion wormed its way into my mind. “I missed you so much,” he whispered. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Goose bumps flashed across my skin. I looked up at him, though I dreaded what I’d see in his eyes. There it was: affection.

And I thought the FEA was twisted.

His eyes moved to the scar on my throat. “I wish I could have protected you.”

“Mr. Yates,” I said, my voice like a squeak.

Hurt flickered in his eyes. He grabbed the edge of the desk as if he needed something to hold on to. “You don’t remember.”

“I’m sorry. I—” I whispered, then stopped myself. Why the hell was I apologizing to a teacher who obviously had some kind of inappropriate relationship with his student? This was a real school, with real boundaries, or so I’d thought.

He began rearranging the pencils on his desk. The silence expanded until it felt like it might crush me. His fingers hovered over a stack of papers, shaking slightly as he picked one up. “That’s for you in case you’re thinking about catching up.”

It was a summary of the last book they’d covered. I couldn’t care less.

“Mr. Yates . . .”

“Owen.” His voice was strangely raspy.

“Owen.” The word tasted strange in my mouth. “Can you please tell me what happened between us?” He handed me the stack of papers. I took it but didn’t pull my eyes from his face. He turned abruptly, leaving me to stare at his back. “You’d better go. Your next class is about to start.”

I waited, hoping he’d say more.

“Maybe it’s for the best that you don’t remember.” His voice betrayed the lie buried beneath it, and it gave me an opening. Gingerly, I leaned toward him and put my hand on his shoulder. He didn’t shy away from the touch. “Please, I want to remember.”

He turned his head, his expression a mixture of dread and hope. The bell rang, marking the beginning of my next class. No one had entered. Maybe this was his free period.

“Please,” I whispered, my eyes pleading with him. I was sure he’d refuse me.

“I’ll tell you everything if you come to my house today.” To his house? “I need to talk to you without the risk of being seen or interrupted,” he said, his eyes hopeful.

I swallowed my concerns and ignored the alarm bells going off in my head. I needed to know more about Madison’s relationship with him. Maybe it was the missing puzzle piece that would lead us to the killer. Maybe Yates was the killer and was luring me to his home to finish what he’d started?

“Okay,” I agreed.

He looked relieved and far too happy. “Meet me at five. Do you remember where I live?”

I shook my head.

Yates scribbled down his address and handed it to me together with a slip of paper excusing me for being late to my next class. “I’m looking forward to talking with you,” he said as I swung my backpack over my shoulder and trudged into the hall.

I definitely couldn’t say the same.

“You’re not going to that meeting,” Alec said the moment I’d stopped talking, looking royally pissed because I even considered doing what I was supposed to do.

I glanced around. We were alone in the parking lot but I could hear laughter in the distance. It was lunchtime. People were milling around and, though it was still cold outside, some of them were enjoying the first sunshine of spring. “I have to. It could be crucial to our investigation.”