Page 69 of A Scandal in Homeroom
“Twenty thousand dollars,” I said, remembering what Fitz had seen on the bank statement. “That’s a sizeable operation.”
“Moriarty expanded it. Two games now. One for students, the other for adults. I was making so much just from my cut, then there were tips on top of that. I can start a life on twenty K. Pay rent, buy a car. That’s the difference between having a chance when I turn eighteen and not.”
“The second game…” I began, but stopped when I saw her eyes had closed again. She’d been jumped, beaten. The simple effort to share her story with me alone would have cost her more energy. “We’ll talk in the morning. For now, let’s get you to bed before you fall asleep.”
“I can sleep here,” she said.
“You could, but it would be more comfortable for you in the guest room. If you don’t get up now, Croft will have to carry you upstairs, and I’m fairly certain neither one of us wants that to happen.”
It roused her enough she was able to basically roll off the couch, the ice packs falling to the floor along with the blanket I’d tossed over her. She started to bend to pick them up, but I stopped her.
“I’ll get them. Just focus on getting upstairs.”
I didn’t soasmuch as help her. I simply stood back to give her enough room to grit her way through the pain as she climbed the stairs. I pointed to the guest room and was grateful Croft had been a step ahead of me and fresh sheets had already been put on the bed.
“Wait here,” I told her, although it was unlikely she was going anywhere.
I ran to my room and fetched a T-shirt, then stopped in the bathroom to get some pain relievers. When I came back, she was still sitting on the bed. I tossed the shirt beside her and put the pills on the nightstand. Croft had already thought to have a bottle of water for her on the nightstand.
“You’ll be more comfortable if you change.”
She nodded slightly.
“Do you need help?”
Had my voice cracked slightly? I didn’t think so.
This time she shook her head.
“Then I’ll leave you to it. Take the pills before you go to sleep. They’ll help.”
“Lock,” she said, just as I reached the door. “I’m not…I’m not what you think I am. I just wanted to say that.”
“I think you’re a girl just trying to figure things out, Irene. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“I guess you were right. About the saving me part.”
“Don’t give me credit for that yet. I’ve only just begun. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, Locke. And…thank you.”
Shutting the door behind me on my way out, I realized there was little chance I was going to sleep. Forget the excitement of the evening, Irene Adler was sleeping in my shirt. My shirt was going to be touching her naked body. Her breasts, which I knew from memory to be beautiful.
No, I was going to be aroused and agitated all night so there was no point in attempting to turn in for the night. Besides, it was still rather early for me. Instead, I would use the time to do a little digging on a shadowy figure named Moriarty.
The game was afoot.
* * *
Reen
I could hearhim walking downstairs. It made sense. It wasn’t that late. And Locke was going to want to do his thing. Maybe it had been naïve to think he wouldn’t have decided to follow me. He knew about Coyle. Someone had told him about Thornfield. He had to be suspicious.
When Beth had asked me on Saturday if Locke would help Fitz, the truth was I didn’t know. I assumed any relationship we had was over, so why would he bother to help my friend? Unless, of course, Locke did it to make sure Fitz would owe him a favor. That made more sense. There were strings that came with Locke’s help, and I needed to remind myself of that. Slowly, I turned on my side, trying not to groan in pain. He might hear and come back to check on me. The pains pills were kicking in, I was going to be asleep in no time. I knew that. Knew my body. I could handle pain.
What I couldn’t handle was the look on his face when he’d realized what had been done to me. Anger, concern. Caring. Locke cared. Whether he wanted to or not, he couldn’t help himself.
Normally, this would thrill me. Isn’t that what I wanted? Control over all boys and men. Except he didn’t care because of what I looked like. He didn’t care because he thought he might sleep with me. He cared because…he knew me.
