Page 14 of The Associate
“Her next meal,” I retort.
“What?” His voice is closer to the bathroom again. I open the door and laugh as he stumbles towards me. “The dog, you arehernext meal.”
I wink at him as I walk out the door.
He sighs. Maybe this is going to be fun after all. He is easy to rile up.
He had been the only thing on my mind when we left. I sure as hell annoyed my mother when she had been packing our things.‘When will we see Mason?’or‘When is Mason going to come visit?’She would never really give me an answer and either change the subject or tell me to go away.
As I grew older, I started to push against her authority. I began sneaking out at night, sneaking the alcohol from her liquor cabinet and anything else teenagers would do to annoy their parents. The thing that hurt her the most was when I would threaten to run away, to come back here to this very mansion and live with my father.
But I never could. I loved her way too much to break her completely.
The tension those days was so thick you could cut the air with a knife.
“How did you even get a dog in here without anyone else knowing?” His question draws my eyes back to his.
I know Mia is a good girl; she barely makes a noise. My mind goes back to when Mum first brought Mia home for me. It was two years before she died.
Mason clears his throat, and I just stare at him, unblinking. “Well? How did you get an eighty-pound dog into the house?”
“Frederick.” I gaze over at Mia, whose brown eyes are looking at me. I smile sadly at her. He is the one who takes care of her when I am out and because my father doesn’t like me leaving my room when I am home, Frederick takes her out most of the time. I don’t like leaving her cooped up in the crate.
“Checks out.” He moves around my room, picking up a pen from my desk, twirling it around in his fingers, running his hand along the edge of the desk. “What’s this?” He bends over and picks up a book that’s sitting at the edge.
“It’s a book?” I look at him, clearly confused.
He chuckles, turning the book over. “Oh, this is more than just a book.”
He flips through the pages, eventually landing on one page. His eyes widen slightly as he starts reading the page out loud. “His hand slides up her right leg and along her inner thigh, indicating for her to part her legs for him—”Before he can read anymore, I launch myself across the room to snatch the book from his hands.
“You do realise this is private reading, right?” I put the book under my comforter. “I need to get to my class, so if you insist on tagging along, then you better hurry up.”
I hold my hand out to Mia in her crate, letting her lick my palm to say goodbye before I leave towards my secret passageway. Frederick is due to take her for a walk shortly.
“Will you slow the fuck down!” Mason calls out from behind me. “You are not getting out of my sight no matter how hard you try.”
I am one hundred percent going to try though. I quicken my pace, navigating through the twists and turns.
I know the path. He doesn’t.
I push through the door into my personal garage. I could have taken the Ducati, but I am not letting him control my bike for one, and he would not look like a good backpack. Behind me, I hear his labouring breath. “Fuck,” he exhales.
“Get in the car,” I direct him. “I have never been late for a class and I am not going to start now.”
Climbing into my Stingray, I start the engine. I rev it once before patting the passenger seat. He rolls his eyes and climbs in, pulling his seatbelt into place. Before he can get a word out, the garage door is open and I hit the throttle, speeding down the drive on the way to the college. His hands grip the door handle.
Murwood College is basically around the corner from the mansion. I think that is the only reason that my father still lets me go. He has no idea what I’m studying but I’m pretty sure he will find out because Mason will no doubt give him updates. It’s only a matter of time before everyone knows that the most notorious criminal in the whole of the Murwood area’s daughter is studying how to put the very people she lives with behind bars.
I love what I study, and if I succeed in my plans,it will also come in handy.
Murwood College is run by my father’s organisation now: he purchased the building last year, after he found out I am studying here. Just another way for him to control my life. He told the office administration that I am not allowed to leave the premises unless I have someone with me, and, before Mason, it had always been my father one step behind me. I guarantee that the school had received a call prior to my arrival today.
The main building is one of the oldest in Murwood, red brick with large timber double doors. The right side of the building has been shut down because the foundation is beginning to crumble; there’s a slight lean to it and cracks that snake up the exterior walls. People have graffitied both inside and out. There are lighter patches on the walls where staff have used bleach to clean the paint off. The windows are old, yellow, stained glass, a watery-looking pattern. It reminds me of a church. There is a lot of motion around, other students making their way to class and others leaving classes. Professors smile at students as they pass.
“So you never did say what it is you’re studying here,” Mason says, causing me to jump slightly.
“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to find out.” I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Because with the way you have been acting, you’re not giving the ‘I’m going to sit here and wait in the car’ kind of vibe.”
