“She’ll be fine,” I answered, my hand clenching down on hers. “Who’s trailing him?”
“Brantley,” Cade answered as we walked briskly through the dark. “As soon as you and Gemma began that very, very convincing kiss, he snuck away.”
“Goddamnit,” I mumbled. “He does know I’m onto him.”
I still hadn’t informed my father that Bain was suspecting something, mainly because I didn’t want to deal with the weight of his words right away. But I knew I had to let him know. I just wanted to be one hundred percent certain Bain knew I was watching him—or at least, that was what I was telling myself. Maybe I hadn’t told him because I liked feeling as if I had some type of control, which I didn’t. Not really, anyway.
Nonetheless, Bain waiting until I was preoccupied before dipping out was smart and calculating. I had a big feeling he would do it, though. Half the time when I’d follow him, he wouldn’t do anything other than drive around in circles before parking his car down the street near the abandoned warehouse and walk back to St. Mary’s. The students weren’t allowed to have vehicles here, but Bain always had a backup parked down the street. Every once in a while, the type of car would be changed out and the tracker we’d place on it would go rogue, but we still managed to trail him. He was paranoid. Or maybe it was his father’s paranoia. Either way, he was a deceitful little fuck.
“Have you told your father yet?”
“No.” My answer was as short as it was abrupt, and a second later, I heard Cade sigh. Then, a second after that, we pushed through the doors, and the cool air of the hallway clung to my hot skin.
Gemma stood between Cade and me, staying as silent as a mouse. Her brown hair
framed her stoic face, her eyes showing nothing at all.
I pulled my hoodie back onto my head and jerked a nod to Cade. “Let Gem wear your jacket.”
I needed her to be in something dark. Her black skirt worked, but her light-colored sweater would catch an eye if we had to hide.
Cade sighed disapprovingly as he unzipped his dark-gray jacket and shrugged it off his shoulders. “You’re seriously bringing her with you?”
Gemma shifted nervously and glanced to the floor.
Cade held out his jacket to her and ignored me while saying, “It’s nothing against you, Gemma. It’s just that Isaiah is being fucking reckless.” He shot me a glare. “And you could end up as collateral damage.”
A throaty laugh erupted from my chest as I tried to remind myself that I wasn’t my father, and I’d never act like my father. Sure, I was the Huntsman’s son, and I was viewed as the next boss, meaning not only would my two best friends work for me, but so would their fathers—if they managed to stay alive that long—but I didn’t want to power trip them. I never would. “You know I wouldn’t let that happen, Cade. You more than anyone should know that.”
A tick of pain hit me with the quick reminder of my mother and what had happened when she was caught in the crossfire. Cade knew all about it. He and his father had shown up later that night.
Cade’s jaw tightened as he helped Gemma zip up the jacket. She stayed silent, and it irritated me not knowing what she was thinking.
“You don’t always have that choice, Isaiah.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And she’s right. What if you two do get caught?”
“We won’t get caught. I was careless before. You know this.”
Why was I even explaining this to him? Why was I justifying myself to him? I glanced away, knowing why he was so concerned. And I should listen. I really should.
“We need to go. You know what to do if anything arises while we’re gone.”
Cade shook his head at me before winking at Gemma, and then he slipped through the door to head back to the party.
I grabbed onto Gemma’s hand once more, and we began the long walk down the empty hallway toward my uncle’s stone cottage.
It was right behind St. Mary’s, just through the far left entrance of the school. Our feet shuffled over the cobblestone walkway as the night air cooled our skin. Leaves rustled with rising tension as if they knew Gemma and I were sneaking away from the school in the middle of the night. Or maybe it was a warning to me that I should send her back with Cade. But fuck me, I liked having her near.
Stopping just behind the large trunk of a tree that smelled of pine, I peered at my uncle's far left window where I knew his bedroom was. This house was an old servant’s house. Small and subtle, nothing more than a bed and a small bathroom inside. But his car was parked just a few yards away in the makeshift driveway. Gemma and I headed toward it.
My phone dinged, and with my free hand, I pulled it out and read Brantley’s text.
* * *
Brant: He’s on foot. I see a new car up ahead. It’s a Bentley. I think it’s his. He must have found the tracker. Sending a pin.
* * *
I sighed and shoved my phone back into my hoodie and pulled my uncle’s spare key from my jeans. Gemma stopped dead in her tracks, the loose pebbles shifting underneath her boots. “Isaiah. Are we really leaving?”