Page 26 of Alamort

“Yeah, no. That’s weird,” she grimaces. Not making me feel any better. “Fear.” River whispers. The hair on the back of my arms stands.

“What?”

“The answer is fear.”

I peek my head out the doorway, looking both ways for any notable disturbances, only to come up short.

“You didn’t leave this? Or see anyone outside my door?” She looks off to the side in thought before telling me she hasn’t.

“Does it say anything else?” she asks. Showing her the envelope only has my first name on it.

“I’ll see if I can hack into the dorm footage. Let you know what I find.”

A weight is lifted off my shoulders. Hopefully, we can catch the person responsible. The headmaster won’t do shit about it. I will though.

We’re off to our first class. Psychology is first for me, while River has calculus. I’m happy to report I only have P. E every other day, as opposed to the standard every day.

River leaves me at the doorway of Mrs. Warren’s class, and I take my assigned seat by the window, leaving the seat to the right of me vacant. She’s an older woman in her 40s with her PhD in psychology. It’s refreshing to be taught by someone who has worked in the field. Rather than someone who can only answer questions about the class. Mrs. Warren always dresses in a professional pencil skirt. Her hair is up in a tight ‘no nonsense’ bun. Glasses rest on the end of her nose as she goes over the notes for today’s class. She’s a fair teacher. Understanding when it comes to open and effective communication.

Her helpfulness at this school is unmatched. She’s ready to assist, whether it’s through answering emails or addressing questions about assignments. The type of person who should be a teacher. Someone patient, compassionate, and dedicated to helping people learn. When asked about the topic of the day, a small smile tugs at her lip—a rare sight, considering her usual expression of irritation.

Getting myself comfortable, I lay out my things neatly. A chair pulls out next to me and a body plops down, startling me.

Well, well, well. If it isn’t the third Demon that I’ve been fortunate enough to avoid, until now. His dark hair is perfectly tamed. The down-turned corners of his pouty, full lips reveal his irritation. There isn’t a piece of clothing that doesn’t have a hard ironed line in it. Crew Demonio is disgustingly tidy. I refrain from the temptation to crinkle his impeccable attire. My fingers tingle with the desire to mess up his perfectly styled hair. He’s so perfect. It makes my skin crawl. This is what my parents wanted me to be like. Who the hell made him look like this?

“Are you just going to stare at me?” Crew huffs, waking me from my thoughts.

“I’m sorry. This seat hasn’t had a single student since I’ve been in this class. And all the sudden there is. I think that’s due for a little staring.” I say defensively because he called me out. “If it makes you feel better, it’s more of a ‘why the fuck are you here’ stare.” Crew glares from beneath his lashes. Shrugging, just because we have to sit together doesn’t mean we have to acknowledge each other. That is true until Mrs. Warren opens her mouth, and for once I’m not excited.

“Today, we start our semester project. We will work in pairs. Each pair will be picking a mental illness to report on. This will count for at leasthalfof your grade in my class.” My shoulders slump with relief. I read the syllabus for this class and got a head start on this project. Especially since it’s a huge chunk ofmy grade. With or without the infamous Crew, I’m determined to pass.

Mrs. Warren starts with us. Before Crew can open his mouth, I let her know the topic ‘we’ chose. I’ve done most of the work already. He won’t fuck this up for me. I’m ahead in all my classes and it will stay that way.

“We’ll take DID. Dissociative Identity Disorder.” Warren claps her hands together excitedly. Then moves on to the next group.

“Why did you pick that mental illness, Priya?” Crew quietly questions. His shoulders are tense. It’s just a class, jeez.

“I already have most of the work done. I was prepared to do this assignment on my own. So, if you want to go over what I have done and add whatever is left to get some credit. That would be helpful.”

“And if I don’t?” He sneers. I seemed to have struck some chord.

Sighing, “Then nothing, Crew. I won’t have you mess with the grades I try so hard to get and keep. Do it. Don’t do it. I won’t hold my breath. I’ll finish it, regardless. It’s up to you whether or not your name is on the paper.” Taking out the assignment I already have done and printed out, I lay them in front of him. Crew grabs them, looks me right in the eye and rips it in half. I clench my teeth so hard that they’re going to break at this rate. My fists form tight balls, begging to hit him. Through my blurry vision, I seethe. The seconds on the clock tick by. It’s fine. It’s not like I spent hours of this week working on that assignment, only for him to rip it apart. I’ll print out another one. The bell rings and I hurry to go find River.

It’s Friday night. Excitement buzzes through my veins while my brother sits Saint and I down at the kitchen island. Every article we’re wearing is black, from head to toe. I don’t want to brag about saying I planned our outfits, but I did. Malice is lurking in the background. It’s been so long since we’ve been on a job. I have an abundance of energy, like a live wire. I can’t imagine how everyone else feels finally to be free from the confines of this miserable, monotonous routine. We’ve made no progress with Priya and it’s getting under everyone’s skin. The fact she still walks around with her head high has my teeth on edge. I’ll have to apply a little more pressure for some results. She needs to be pulled down a peg or two. I want her to pay for what she did. I want her broken. When Crew tells us about the gig for tonight, I forget my anger.

“Martin Pierce, 0000 River Road in Saint George. He’s hiding out on some lot of land.”

“Crime?” Saint asks. We all know it wouldn’t matter what the offense is. We have signed, sealed, and will deliver his death warrant.

“Reoccurring sex offender. His recent victim is a 12-year-old little girl named Ellie. He kidnapped her for three days.Repeatedly raped her, before letting her go.” He pauses. There is more. “He let her go in the forest. The police found her six days after her abduction date. Died from her wounds, starvation, and severe dehydration. The autopsy reported internal tears.” My stomach rolls with nausea. Charles and Marie come to mind. Of a time when I was a defenseless kid with no one to protect me. Peeking over at Saint, he’s not in much better shape. His face is paler than usual. Nodding, I get up, ready to take out this piece of trash.

“Everything is packed. We just have to stop in town to pick up the car.” Of course. Crew would ensure that everything is ready to go.

We pull onto a dirt road. The ghost car is a standard older four-door sedan. Untraceable with counterfeit plates and insurance, in case we get pulled over. Worst-case scenario, we have to boost another car. Which would add to our fun ‘night out’.

Having money definitely comes with some perks, but sometimes I miss the way our lives used to be, before mom died. Playing outside until the streetlights came on. Crew made a game to see who could steal the most food without getting caught. Another pothole has the guys jostling around. They’re absolutely impossible to miss.

“You missed one.” Crew grumbles from the passenger seat. My foot slams on the brakes in the middle of the rocky road, startling Saint and Crew.

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