Good Girls Never Rise: A Dark Boarding School Romance

“It’s unlikely that I’ve ever driven past.” Gemma seemed to think this over before giving me a quick, fleeting glance. “Before St. Mary’s, I didn’t really get out much.”

I wanted to continue digging and asking questions, but time was getting away from me, and I had a job to do. It was the whole reason I was at St. Mary’s and the whole reason why Gemma and I were thrust together in the first place: to keep me here, to feed information to my father, and to keep Jack safe.

I left the car running as I pulled my hood up further onto my head and opened the door. A gust of wet rain rushed in, and I turned toward Gemma. “Climb over here, and keep the car running.”

“Wait, what?” she asked, eyes wide and completely shocked.

“I’ll be right back. Do you have your phone on you? The one I gave you?”

She pulled it out of the pocket in Cade’s jacket. “Yes.”

“Good, call me if something happens. Like I said”—I tapped the top of the car—“keep it running.”

Then, I climbed the rest of the way out and watched as she began climbing into my seat. The door slammed as she started to protest, but I knew time was a fleeting thing, so I jogged through the slashing rain droplets and ducked behind a bush, just far enough that I could see through its wet branches.

The hairs on my arms stood erect as I stared at the side entrance of the hospital—the same one my father took me to when I was Jack’s age. I knew the inside had lights so bright they could burn your irises if you stared too long and that the hallway reeked of body sweat, blood, and tears that was hardly covered up by antiseptic. My nostrils flared as my mind tried taking me down memory lane, the pinch of my neck still twinging like my father’s hand was still there, gripping it, making me watch, breaking that last tiny bit of innocence that I still had in my youth.

Jack entered my head as I stared ahead through the drooping branches of the bush, rain drops clinging to the leaves for dear life. I watched as someone came out of the entrance of the hospital, letting the metal door shut loudly behind him. He was a stocky man, wearing a nicely pressed suit, so I knew right then that he wasn’t one of the employees. He didn’t have that distinct color of scrubs on: blue for the psychiatric part of the hospital and black for the Covens. I pulled my phone out and zoomed in on Bain backing his Bentley up to the door underneath the awning. There was a bright light that flickered above the man’s head, allowing anyone to see clearly.

I snapped several photos of Bain climbing out of the driver's seat and rounding the Bentley with his trunk popped, then a few more as Bain pulled out a bag and rested it on top of the car. Then, out came a sleek, black pistol, and my stomach plummeted as a twist of anger clung to my bones. Now he’s doing his father’s dirty work? It wasn’t hard for me to grasp the idea of Bain working alongside his father, because I knew just how dark and deceitful this life could be. And if Bain were anything like me, he’d feel as if he had no choice. But that was the thing with Bain. Even if given a choice, he’d still take his father’s side. Bain loved power. The potency of it was clear on his face as he and the man talked back and forth, turning the gun in their hands like it was a gift straight from God.

They were corrupted men.

Both of them.

I wasn’t a saint, and I’d witnessed things that I wished I’d never seen and regretted not stopping, but I, at least, had the humanity to feel guilt and torment. I, at least, had the ability to recognize humanity for what it was.

But men like Bain, my father, his father, even Brantley’s and Cade’s fathers…they looked down upon others and didn’

t care who got hurt.

A human life wasn’t much to them. If it were, then the Covens would be burnt to the fucking ground.

They wouldn’t allow torture and the breaking of a person’s mind to fester like it had.

They all got off on it.

It made me want to walk over and snap their necks in half.

Maybe that made me as bad as them, but punishments were vital to the world when someone deserved them. And they all did.

After I clicked another photo of Bain handing off several guns to the mystery man, I pushed my phone into my pocket and began to stand up. The ground was slick against my shoes, mud sloshing as I turned my back to get back to Gemma.

That was my first mistake. You never turn your back on someone with a gun, son.

The sound whirled past my ear, and for a moment, I paused. Was tha—?

The next thing I knew, I was taken to the ground by my own subconscious ability to save myself from getting shot, and then I was ducking and rolling and climbing to my feet before running like hell to get back to Gemma.

That was my second mistake: bringing her here.

What the fuck was I thinking!

I wasn’t sure if Bain had spotted me or if it was security. The Covens was highly protected on the inside, and it wouldn’t surprise me if it were protected on the outside, especially with a goddamn gun exchange.

My heart lurched as I heard another pop of the gun, and it killed me to have to run right toward Gemma, but I had no other choice.

Cade’s voice rung out in my head. “You’re being reckless.”