The Sinners of Saint Amos: The Full 3-book Boxset Page 4

  My regular students stream out of the room, each pausing to thank me or bid me a good afternoon before they leave.

  Many of them used to have abysmal grades before they joined my class last year. The devotion and passion I pour into each class are beginning to show. With my help, these boys will get a head start on their degrees.

  Moments after the last student leaves my class the door opens again.

  I glance up. My body tenses soon when a student slips into my class. He peeks outside before silently closing the door and turning the lock.

  “What’s so important it couldn’t wait?” I ask dryly, straightening the things on my desk as Cassius Santos slinks closer. “And fix your fucking tie, Santos.”

  “You can drop the act,” Cassius rests his thigh on the corner of my desk as he crosses his arms over his chest and leers at me. “It’s just us.”

  “Hallway monitors don’t mock the dress code. Or did you forget that you’re supposed to be a star pupil?”

  The eighteen-year-old student is tall and well put together. Stark blue eyes contrast a dark buzz cut that accentuates his features even more than a mop of hair would have. He pretends to adjust his clothes, but when he drops his hands his tie is still crooked and his top button still undone.

  “Whatever,” Cass mutters. “And it’s not a what, by the way. It’s a who.” He stabs a thumb over his shoulder. “She just left your class.”

  I close my drawer and sink into my seat, leaning back and crossing an ankle over my knee. We shouldn’t be meeting like this, but the other classrooms should already be empty by now—the chances of someone seeing us are slim to none.

  “It’s not the first time we’ve had a female student, or an enrollment so late in the term.”

  “That’s what I thought.” Cassius narrows his eyes to blue slits. “But then Rube came to talk to me. Told me Old Scratch was showing her around like a tour guide. He seems to think they’re pretty tight.”

  I shrug. “I’ll take a look at her file this afternoon.” I grab my ankle, pressing my thumb into one of the tendons. It’s an old injury, one that usually doesn’t pester me this much in warm weather. Its twin on the other ankle starts aching too, but I leave it be. “If there’s cause for concern, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “What if she fucks this up, Zac?” Cass’s arms tighten as he ducks down a little. “It’s taken us years to get to this point. If she’s going to be one of those closet nuns who hang around Lucifer the whole time, how are we supposed to…” he lowers his voice, leans close “…get rid of him? You told us it would only work if no one misses him for like a week. If this chick’s his niece or something, don’t you think she’ll notice if he suddenly disappears?”

  I recognize the storm brewing in Cassius’s eyes. “Tell Apollo to keep an eye on her, if you’re so damn worried,” I say.

  “Will as soon as he gets back. He’s been out in the woods most of the day. Somehow managed to convince the old hag to let him leave the grounds.”

  My eyes shift to the window panes. They’re high up on the wall, and less than a foot across each. They don’t show anything of the world outside except a few pieces of the sky—classrooms are for learning, not for daydreaming. But I know this place well enough to know how far away those trees are. It’s one of the things the staff of Saint Amos drill into every student who attends—no one goes past the fence. If they’re caught, they’re expelled.

  Too many students have gotten lost in those woods, most of their bodies never recovered. Those that were? Hardly recognizable once the wild animals out there had finished with them.

  Trust Apollo to charm his way into being allowed to spend the day out there. He hasn’t even been here the longest. This is my second year at Saint Amos. Apollo graduated last year, and Reuben and Cassius will be graduating this year.

  We made sure not to arrive at Saint Amos in the same year. We couldn’t risk anyone piecing together the fact we knew each other. That’s why we’ve always kept our relationship on a need to know basis.

  A dry chuckle escapes my lips. “Fuck my life.”

  “I’d rather fuck her.”

  My eyes snap back to Cassius. “Not a chance. You don’t go near her until we know who she is.”

  Something flickers over Cass’s face, but it’s gone before I know what it means.

  “Don’t fuck her.” I narrow my eyes at him. “In fact, don’t even look at her.”

  “Aye, aye, Boss.” He gives me a mock salute before leaving my classroom as surreptitiously as he entered.

  My muscles loosen, but not as much as they should. If my brothers are all as restless and uneasy as Cassius, then we could be facing disaster.

  But he’s right—we’re running out of time. And this girl could be no one…or the person who causes this web to unravel. A web we’ve been building for years.

  My ankle throbs, but I ignore it this time.

  I’m stronger now. My body doesn’t have full control over me anymore.

  But I don’t have full control over my mind.

  It was a tradeoff I was happy to make. One we’ve all made at some point in our journey.

  That’s why we stuck together. That’s why we formed our brotherhood of revenge.

  Alone, we were nothing but prey.

  Together, we’ve become the ultimate predator.

  Sister Stella gives me a warm smile when I step through the door to the administration office that afternoon. While Saint Amos only has two female teachers, all of the administration staff are women. Students’ grades, school supplies, and everything else the school needs to run are handled from the cluster of offices on the east wing of the school’s main building.

  Framed by her black-and-white habit, only the center of Sister Stella’s face is visible.

  “Good afternoon, brother. Something I can help with?” she asks, rising from her desk.

  Saint Amos has telephone lines and electricity, but everything looks like it’s from the 1960s. No computers. No internet. And since the telephone lines are down more often than they work, everyone relies on their cellphones to maintain contact with the outside world.

  When there’s service, of course.

  Certain places on campus don’t get any service, like the libraries nestled deep in the disused catacombs.

  Originally a church, all of the original buildings remain intact. When this place became an orphanage, the catacombs were used as an infirmary. These days, it houses the library. Unconventional, since the classrooms are a good fifteen-minute walk away, but more cost-effective than building a new structure. In fact, the low, squat building housing the classes is the newest structure on the property.

  “I’d like to take a look at Trinity Malone’s transcripts, if she has any. May I see her file?”

  Sister Stella widens her eyes at me, and gives her head a tiny shake. “I’m sorry, brother, I only requested it this morning. We didn’t even know she was coming until the provost mentioned it after prayers.”

  “That’s strange,” I say, resting my elbows on the reception desk and leaning in a little. “Why was no one notified?”

  Stella shrugs. “Perhaps it slipped the provost’s mind. He’s under a lot of stress at the moment, what with—”

  “Yes, I understand.” I shouldn’t have interrupted her—I’m supposed to be the kind of person who cares deeply about Father Gabriel’s state of mind.

  In a way, that’s all I care about these days.

  I was hoping her file had arrived already. Why did her arrival at Saint Amos take so many people by surprise? I doubt it slipped Gabriel’s mind. He’s the most intelligent and cunning man I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.

  Her file would have told me all I needed to know. Where she came from, what her connection to Gabriel and the school is. No one just enrolls at Saint Amos—students have to be referred by the bishop of their diocese.

  If I know who her emergency contact is, I could contact them and find out even more.r />
  But not without her file.

  And maybe that’s exactly what Gabriel wanted. Maybe he didn’t want anyone knowing who she is, or how she’s connected with him.

  Why?

  “When is he leaving?” I ask, keeping my voice casual.

  “Let me confirm.” She lifts a finger, giving me another honey-sweet smile. Then she turns her head a little and calls out, “Sister? When does Father Gabriel leave?”

  “Thursday afternoon,” a voice replies from one of the rooms branching off this reception area.

  “And her file?” I ask. “When are you expecting it?”

  Stella turns back to me. Her shrug is nearly invisible beneath her habit. “I’ll let you know as soon as it comes in. But I doubt there’ll be a transcript. Probably a few report cards and her family history. She was homeschooled, you know?”

  “I’m aware,” I murmur. “Thank you, Sister.”

  How long will I have to keep Cassius in check? I refuse to make a move until I know how she fits into all of this. From the sounds of things, she was brought here by the provost himself.

  I’m not okay with an innocent being caught up in the fray. We planned this so there would be no collateral damage.

  Our window of opportunity is closing. Fast.

  And there will never be another chance like this.

  Chapter Six

  Trinity

  “Hey, wake up!”

  I scramble to a sit, blinking hard as I try to focus.

  Jasper’s leaning over my cot. He’s dressed in his school clothes. The last time I saw him he’d been wearing athletic shorts and a vest.

  That had been yesterday afternoon.

  “What time is it?”

  “Didn’t you hear the bell? It’s breakfast,” he snaps. “We all say prayers before. They won’t let you lie in unless you’re sick. Are you sick?”

  I wish I could have convinced him I was. But the only thing wrong with me is the sudden conviction I’ve lost my freaking mind. I slept right through dinner? No wonder my stomach feels like a black hole.

  I’d been planning to take a quick nap. After all, no one had told me what I was supposed to do after I finished Calculus, my last class of the day. Jasper must have come to bed at some stage, but I don’t remember that at all.

  What I do remember is how tongue-tied I’d been at meeting my Psychology teacher. I guess he’s not too young to be a teacher, but he’s definitely too good looking. How is anyone supposed to concentrate?

  Maybe that’s why he chose to teach at an all-boys school.

  Jasper scans my rumpled cardigan and jeans. “You can’t wear that.”

  “Yeah, God, I know.”

  “You can’t say that.”

  “You know what?” I hop off the cot, so close to him I could knee him in the groin if I wanted. And dear Lord, how I want to.

  “You can’t tell me what to do.” I poke his chest.

  “If you don’t obey the rules, I get punished,” Jasper says, tilting his head. “Think I like getting lashes? No one likes getting lashes.” He spins around, yanks open his closet, and tears a set of clothes from one of his hangers.

  I don’t have time—or space—to move out of the way. He shoves the bundle of fabric against my chest so hard I stumble back and end up sitting on my bed.

  It creaks.

  I scowl up at Jasper.

  He glares back.

  “Put that on and haul butt to the chapel outside.” He points at me. “And don’t you dare try to sit next to me.”

  With that, he’s gone.

  I throw on Jasper’s clothes and hurry into the hall but he’s nowhere in sight. This hallway only has two exits, both with staircases. I pick the east side, and sprint down the hall before thumping down the stairs two at a time.

  I breathe a sigh of relief when I spot Jasper turning the corner.

  Jogging after him, I try and neaten my clothes on the way.

  His shirt is too tight around my breasts, but not if I keep the top three buttons open and use his tie to cover my cleavage. His pants are tight around my ass. I’m hoping I can sit down without splitting them.

  The outfit looks ridiculous with my ballerina pumps—there’d been no time to change those—but at least I only have to turn up the hems once so I don’t step on them.

  My hair is a train wreck. It’s super curly on a good day, and I must have been rolling around in my sleep last night because now it’s a tangled mess. Even trying to get the elastic band out of it brings tears to my eyes, so I decide to leave it in.

  At least I’m wearing a uniform. Now Jasper can stop fantasizing about being whipped because I’m in jeans.

  I arrive at the downstairs hallway alone with no roommate in sight.

  The dining room doors are standing open.

  It’s empty.

  Where the hell is everyone?

  We all say prayers before

  Shit.

  In my hurry to chase down Jasper, I’d forgotten about prayers.

  I’m in the wrong building.

  My boobs jostle each other as I turn and sprint for one of the side doors leading out of the dormitory. I followed a group of students from the lunchroom yesterday—that’s how I found my way to class. If it hadn’t been for them, Jasper wouldn’t be able to sit down for the lashes he’d have gotten.

  What a prick.

  I head for the chapel. The crucifix poking out from atop its little tower makes it easy enough to spot.

  Far ahead, a handful of students hurry toward the chapel. I’m almost there when movement catches my eye. I glance over my shoulder, and stub my toe the same instant I catch sight of someone breaking away from the shadow of a nearby maple tree.

  I lose sight of the figure as I hop on one foot and grit my teeth against the pain. When I look back, he’s gone.

  The fine hairs on the back of my neck lift up.

  Someone was standing there. Shoulder length hair, sandy or blond, and a video camera in his hand. Not a cellphone or anything—a proper video camera with a lens.

  Maybe I am hallucinating.

  It wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen since I’ve set foot in this place. My toe aches in time with my hammering heart as I step inside the chapel.

  Awe washes away the pain.

  This is nothing like our church in Redmond. That place always reminded me of a converted barn. It could seat two hundred and store a bunch of hay bales at the same time.

  This place?

  Oh my fucking Lord.

  Whoever built this place must have been blessed with visions of heaven. Maybe he’d been dying of syphilis or something. You’d have to be on the spectrum to create something this…

  “Gorgeous, isn’t it, Little Hussy?”

  I instantly recognize the voice. It’s the guy who threw me up against my closet yesterday morning.

  I try to swing around. He clasps my shoulders, keeping me facing forward.

  The thought of this guy touching me makes my insides clench. I should be horrified, terrified…but for some reason my body isn’t on the same page as my mind.

  His touch sets everything inside me squirming.

  “You’d think it was some crazy-talented architect who built this place, wouldn’t you?” His breath tickles the hairs alongside my face. “Turns out, it was just some religious nut who knew how to use a hammer.”

  Still rooted to the spot, I don’t have a choice but to take in—I mean really take in—this place. Everything from the vaulted ceiling to the immaculately designed stained glass windows. The floor is a ceramic artwork of mesmerizing patterns so glossy it reflects the rows of pews like a mirror.

  It must have taken years to construct.

  “Better take your seat, New Girl. Old Scratch hates it when we’re late to prayers.”

  Then he slaps my ass.

  Hard.

  My gasp travels through the chapel like a whip crack. Everyone turns around to look at me, some grabbing hold of the backrest of
their pew to twist in their seats.

  I can’t imagine what I look like, standing in the doorway with my hands clutched at my chest, hair disarrayed and cheeks glowing like hot coals.

  I’m not in the least surprised when most of the boys start snickering into their hands.

  Moving on wooden legs, I force myself to the closest pew.

  I don’t bother looking behind me. I already know the guy who’d been standing there whispering into my ear like Satan himself is gone.

  But he must still be watching me from somewhere, because someone’s staring at the back of my head.

  I take a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

  At least my pants haven’t split. Today might even turn out to be a good day.

  It seems the first two rows are reserved for the teachers and staff. I glance at them all and try to figure out who they are.

  Dressed in full clerical vestments, Gabriel strides onto the chancel. I’m so relieved to see a familiar face I’m blinking away tears.

  I hope I can talk to him before school starts. I know I’m the only female student here, but for heaven’s sake, this can’t be normal. Maybe if he makes an announcement or something, like that other woman—Sister Miriam?—did. He can tell the boys to leave me the hell alone.

  I push back my shoulders and sit up a little straighter.

  But then I remember what he told me yesterday. That the boys around here earn privileges. I guess there’s no way he’d consider showing me any kind of special treatment.

  After a short sermon, Father Gabriel leads us in the Father’s Prayer.

  Our father, who art in heaven.

  Hallowed be thy name.

  I barely murmur the words loud enough to move my lips. I wouldn’t be praying along at all, but I guess it won’t hurt.

  What else is there to do but keep playing along like I have been all my life? What’s a few more weeks, months, years?