Good Girls Never Rise: A Dark Boarding School Romance

What?

“Where is he?”

My uncle gave me a look. “I don’t know. There’s no record of him. I looked into it after Gemma let it slip. Everything about her is very hush. I can hardly find anything.”

My stomach bottomed out.

I had a feeling I knew exactly where her brother was.

And I was wondering if, deep down, Gemma did too.

Chapter Forty-Two

Isaiah

My blood still rushed as I sat in the dining hall, waiting for Gemma to appear for breakfast. I had texted her ten minutes ago.

Me: You’re losing track of time in the art room. It’s time for breakfast.

She texted back within a minute.

Gemma: Cleaning up now. Thanks.

My fingers flew over the screen as my leg bounced under the table that Gemma and I had been shoved under less than forty-eight hours ago.

Me: Cade will walk with you.

Her reply came another minute later.

Gemma: Did you send Cade to spy on me?

I laughed under my breath as I slipped my phone back into my pocket after messaging Cade that he needed to walk with her. Gemma called it spying. I called it protection. Same difference.

My eyes glanced down to the rich wood that her bare ass was on Saturday night with my finger deep inside her. Just thinking about it made the itch of concern and anger lessen in my bloodstream, but each time I looked over at Bain with his cropped-to-the-scalp haircut and hardened features, I grew tense. My father had yet to answer a single question I’d thrown at him after Saturday. In fact, I’d heard nothing from him except for the few curse words on the other end of the phone after I’d told him all about Bain’s little adventure. Typically, I wouldn’t care. I’d feed him the intel and then push him out of my head until he called me again. But now that Gemma was involved, and I knew that our family was tied to hers in some way, I wanted to know more. I needed to know more. I could blame the need-to-know feeling burning inside of me on the fact that I was soon to take over my father’s entire gun-trafficking business, but that wasn’t why I cared. Not even in the slightest. I could lie to him, or even the rest of the Rebels, but to myself? There was no chance. Gemma’s sweet little confession was burning a hole in my brain. I’m running from my uncle. Why? What had he done to her, and how could I make him pay?

The thought was there, the minor dip in my rationality that allowed me to wonder what would happen if I made Judge Stallard disappear. I wasn’t my father, but his blood ran through my veins. That evil part lived inside of me underneath years of staying in control of myself. I didn’t let it out often, but would I for Gemma? Would she be able to stay at St. Mary’s if her uncle vanished? No. Even if something unfortunate happened to Judge Stallard, which would be totally fucking risky if my uncle was correct with the assumption that he had a healthy relationship with the police force, Gemma and I still couldn’t be anything. She wouldn’t be brought into this life. Not a chance.

I unglued my tongue from the roof of my mouth as the doors of the dining hall swung open, and Sloane walked in, then Mercedes, and then Gemma beside her. Cade soon followed, keeping enough distance behind her that it didn’t raise attention but just close enough that Bain’s left eye twitched. My attention pulled from him and then immediately went to Gemma’s bare legs and then right back up to her cute little heart-shaped face that I hadn’t seen since Saturday night.

I hadn’t seen her at all yesterday, and I was almost certain it had to do with what we’d done right here in this very spot.

We’d texted a few times, but she’d said she was getting caught up on homework and then having a movie night with Sloane. Apparently, Sloane had said I was taking too much of her time with “tutoring.” She starred the word tutoring in the text, as if we were doing something other than studying in the deep, dark library…all alone.

When our eyes collided, it felt like the room shrunk. The walls caved in, and it was as if all the air was whooshed from my lungs and plowed straight into hers. The slight curve of her lips caught my eye, and I felt mine doing the same.

Jesus Christ. My uncle was totally fucking right. I did care for her. It took me by surprise because I had never let myself even consider the fact that I could feel anything but attraction for someone—so quickly, too. Gemma had grabbed my walls, and with the snap of her finger, they were down.

“I have never seen you look at someone like that in my entire eighteen years of existence,” Shiner bemused. “You’re scaring the entire student population.”

I slowly shifted my attention to him as he held a piece of bacon in the air.

“How am I scaring the student population?”

Brantley grunted from the other side of me. “Because you look like you’re in love.”

I whipped my head over to him with a set jaw. I wanted to snap. Recognizing something like that out loud landed on too many ears. It was a slap to my face, and he knew why.

“Don’t say shit like that.” I flexed my jaw.