Blind Rage (24 page)

“Is that an apology I hear in there somewhere?”

“Apology?
You’re
the one who should apologize.”

He gripped her arm and steered her toward the voices. “Fine, I’m sorry. Whatever. I don’t want to fight anymore. You tell me what you want, and I’ll do it, okay?”

She fell silent, feeling awful.

“The commons is a zoo,” he muttered. “Sure you want to go in this way?”

“Does it make any difference?”

“Must be the end of lunch. What’s after that?”

“Chemistry,” she said.

“Maybe we can just cut through and get to class early.”

He pulled her to a stop and opened a door. The loud sound of hundreds of voices talking and laughing reached through the opening like a fist and pounded her ears. She stepped through, bolstered by Oliver’s hand at the small of her back. She walked with confidence as he guided her with gentle pressure.

Suddenly, a voice screamed, “You freaking bitch! I’ll kill you! You and your boy toy, too!”

The commons fell as silent as a library after closing, and every neck craned, every head swiveled toward the source of the lunatic outburst—mine included. Carl’s friend Tad barreled through the crowd, knocking people aside. He charged, head down, snorting, an enraged bull. When I realized he had us in his sights, adrenaline surged through my veins, kick-starting my heart.

As a kid, I’d never gone out of my way to avoid a fight, but I’d never picked one, either. By minding my own business, I’d managed to avoid involvement in schoolyard spats, and since I was always a year or two younger than my classmates, they viewed me as too easy a mark and not worth hassling. I’d never feared bullies, but rather had calculated how badly I might get hurt before allowing myself to get swept up in one altercation or another. As pissed as I was with my current situation—Tess’s bad attitude, killers potentially still lurking out there somewhere, and an empty pocket that had forced me into indentured servitude—I was damned if some dumb high school jock was going to hurt Tess. I’d promised Kenny and Luis I’d take care of her.

I got a few steps out in front of Tess and leaned my shoulder into Tad as he rushed us, absorbing the brunt of the hit. Grabbing on as he bulled forward, I managed to twist aside and use his momentum to push him to the floor. A geyser of noise erupted into the commons as the cry of “Fight! Fight!” flowed through the hall like magma. Tad scrabbled to his feet before I regained my balance and came at me with a snarl and enough hatred in his eyes to poison a well.

“You killed him!” he shouted.

He took a swing. I didn’t duck fast enough, and it caught me a glancing blow on the head. A small starburst of pain exploded in my skull. I got my hands up and hunched my shoulders.

“He
took
the car, dipstick,” I said. “I didn’t know. Tess didn’t either.”

He shook his head slowly. The chants around us grew louder, energizing him.

“
You
killed him,” he said. “Whoever shot him wanted
you
. Or her. Maybe both of you.”

“How do you know? Maybe he just pissed somebody off. Road rage. Carl was a jerk.”

“Screw you!”

“Get him, Tad!” someone shouted.

His muscles rippled under his shirt, and I tensed, ready for his move. He came at me swinging, expecting me to back up under the onslaught. Instead, I ducked and moved forward under the arc of his arm. I slammed a palm up under his chin. His jaw clacked shut and his head snapped back. He clutched at me as he went down, nearly pulling me over with him. I jerked back, and my shirt ripped away from his grasp. He fell hard, banged his head on the hard floor, and lay there, dazed.

“Hey! Hey, break it up!”

A human mountain hustled over to see what the commotion was about. Students backed away to clear a path for him, boys cowing involuntarily as he passed. Muscles bulged under the fabric of his sweatshirt. He wore the sleeves pulled up, revealing black-inked tattoos on thick forearms the color of a mocha latte. Tad rolled onto one knee and got unsteadily to his feet. When I stepped between Tad and Tess, the giant put a hand the size of a catcher’s mitt on my chest and pushed me back a step. I tipped my chin up to look at him. The overhead lights glinted off his shaved head.

“It wasn’t me,” I said. “He started it.”

“Who are you?” the giant said.

Kenny suddenly appeared out of nowhere and wedged himself between me and the giant.

He thrust his face up close to the mountain’s. “Who the hell are
you
?”

Luis circled around behind the giant, keeping an eye on Tad.

“John Kelly, school security,” the giant said. “Who are you guys?”

“Bodyguards,” Kenny said. “I’m Kenny. He’s Luis.” He jerked his head at Luis, causing Kelly to swivel his gaze.

The giant looked confused. “What? You two are guarding this kid?” He looked at me.

“Not me,” I said, throwing a thumb over my shoulder. “Her. Tess Barrett. You okay, Tess?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “How do you think Kenny and Luis got here so quick?”

I’d wondered about that. I threw a questioning look at Kenny.

“She called,” he said. “We were in the office letting them know we’re here.”

“Thanks a lot, Tess,” I said. “You didn’t think I could handle a candy-ass punk like Tad? He’s not too tough without his homeys.”

“What did you call me?” Tad shouted.

He lunged forward, but Luis pinned his arms and held him back.

“Shut up, both of you!” Kelly’s brow furrowed as he considered me. “Who are you, again?”

“I’m Oliver. Oliver Moncrief, Tess’s assistant.”

“He’s a freaking killer, that’s what!” Tad said, straining against Luis’s hold. “Hadn’t been for him, Carl would still be alive.”

A voice behind me chimed in. “That’s a serious accusation.”

A man with a shock of black hair and a rounded belly that spilled over his belt ambled up to us. Greg Olton, assistant principal. I’d dealt with him the day before when Prescott, Tess’s English teacher, had made me get a permanent pass.

“It’s true,” Tad said.

“We’ll see,” Olton said. “Back to class, Tad.”

“But—”

Olton raised his hand. “I said
back to class
, before I cite you for fighting—an automatic suspension, I might remind you.”

Luis let him go and Tad slunk away, head down, throwing me one last malevolent scowl as he passed by.

“Show’s over,” Olton said loudly, turning a slow pirouette. “Period’s about to begin. Everybody get where you belong.”

The milling crowd slowly dispersed, the disappointment on many faces reflecting the brevity of the fight.

Olton crooked a finger at me. “You, come with me.”

“What for?” I said.

Olton pursed his lips as if it was a stupid question and turned to Kenny. “One of you can escort Miss Barrett to her next class. I want the other one off campus per our discussion. John, good work keeping a lid on things here. You can give me a rundown later.”

I followed Olton out of the commons. Tess didn’t say a word. Olton led me to his office, sat me down and left, making me wait. I figured he intended to make me squirm, but I didn’t give him the satisfaction. He returned several minutes later with a uniformed police officer. I stood politely, but now I was worried. Olton didn’t scare me, but the cop made me leery—for all the reasons I’d outlined to Tess the night before.

“You’re Oliver?” the officer said. He didn’t offer his hand.

I nodded and wiped my hand on my pants before sticking it in my pocket.

“I’m Detective Burns, the PD’s SRO—school resource officer. Sit down.” He sat next to me and pulled out a pen. “I understand you were accused of being involved in the death of a student. Can I get the correct spelling of your name, Oliver, along with your date of birth and address?”

I gave it to him and watched him write it all down on a pad of paper.

“You’re not a student here, Oliver?”

“No, sir. I’m a personal assistant to a student who is, um, sight-impaired.”

“The blind girl. Tess Barrett. You’ve had the job since yesterday?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Anything to this accusation?”

“No, sir.” I gave him the bare bones outline of what had happened in the parking lot the night before, leaving out the details of why Tess and I were on the run.

He looked at me without expression. “Why didn’t you report the car stolen?”

I shrugged. “I figured he’d bring it back once he’d had his fun. And if I reported it he would have said I just gave him the keys.”

“About that. Why’d you just hand them over?”

“Seemed the easiest way. There were four of them. I could have let them beat the crap out of me, but what would have been the point?”

“Miss Barrett wasn’t with you?” One of his eyebrows rose.

“No. I drove here to meet a classmate of hers who was going to help her with homework. When Carl ‘borrowed’ Tess’s car, we took her friend’s car instead.”

“And this friend will corroborate your story?”

I nodded. “I don’t see why not, since it’s the truth. His name is Matt. Matt Tsang.”

“And you have no idea who killed Carl Gant?”

My palms started to sweat. “No, sir. Like you said, I’ve only known Tess for a day. How would I know who killed one of her classmates?”

He considered me for a moment then looked up at Olton, who’d been sitting quietly.

“Could be a misunderstanding,” Burns said. “I’ll make arrangements to speak with the boy who made the accusation, but I see no reason to detain Oliver any longer. All right with you?”

“What do we know about this person?” Olton nodded his head toward me.

“I spoke with Miss Barrett’s housekeeper who said she ran a thorough background check on him. He has no record.”

I raised my hand. “Excuse me. I’m right here. Whatever you want to know, you can ask me. I’ve got no secrets.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.

“Everybody’s got secrets,” Burns said without a smile. He stood. I half expected him to challenge my statement, but he faced Olton. “I’ll see where they are on the investigation and get back to you, Greg. I think you can let Oliver return to his duties.”

Olton waved at me. “Go on. Get out of here.”

I didn’t need a second invitation. Someone was bound to tell Olton or the cop about Carl tripping me in the commons. The cop might think that gave me motive and haul me in for more questions. No, thank you.

I found Tess’s chemistry classroom without too much trouble and slipped inside. The teacher gave me a stern look as I headed toward an empty seat at the back of the room, but didn’t miss a word as she explained a problem on the board. She might as well have been speaking Greek. Helping Tess with this class would be a challenge. Kenny seemed relieved to be relieved, bouncing up out of his chair the moment he saw me. I switched directions and headed for the seat he’d just vacated. He got an even sterner look from the teacher on the way out.

Tess ignored me and focused on the class work. I took a few notes, but mostly concentrated on the formulas the teacher put up on the board and how she arrived at answers. The bell rang, sending students scrambling for the door in a mad dash. I stood and collected Tess’s things.

“Tess Barrett?” the teacher called.

Tess raised her hand.

Her teacher walked over, stood in front of our table, and looked me up and down before addressing Tess. “Tess, I’m concerned you may not be able to handle this course with your disability. It’s tough enough when you can work out problems with paper and pencil. You’ll have to do all the work in your head. Lab work is another problem.”

“I can handle it, Mrs. Jessup,” Tess said. “I passed the midterm by studying at home. I’ll do even better hearing explanations firsthand.”

Jessup looked skeptical. “You weren’t here yesterday. You have a lot of catching up to do.”

“I’m fine. I’m sorry about yesterday. First day back was overwhelming, so I went home after lunch. But I’m okay. Really. I can do this.”

Jessup looked at me. “You’re her assistant? You can’t do the work for her, you know.”

“I don’t understand it anyway,” I said. “English major.”

She nodded, as if that explained everything. “What will you do if she needs help?”

“If I can’t explain what I see you do in class, we’ll find a classmate who can.”

“Matt Tsang,” Tess said quickly. “He’s offered to tutor me if I need help.”

Jessup nodded. “Okay. Matt knows his stuff. But I’m not cutting you any slack. If you can keep up, fine. If not, we’ll talk again.”

Jessup walked back to her desk without waiting for a reply. I stood up and slung Tess’s backpack over one shoulder.

“You ready?” I said.

Tess sighed and got out of her chair. “You really don’t understand chemistry?”

“Rudimentary concepts.” I paused. “Just because I don’t understand it doesn’t mean I can’t do it.”

“How’s that possible?”

“Parrots talk,” I said. “Doesn’t mean they know what they’re saying. Come on, let’s go.”

Toby Cavanaugh and a group of friends stood in a semicircle in the hallway outside the door, waiting for us. The girl Tess had called Adrienne at lunch the previous day hung on Toby’s arm like a fashion accessory. Two other couples completed the group, the guys tall, athletic, and good-looking like Toby, the girls perfect, unblemished proxies for teen-magazine models.

“Tess, I’ve been looking for you,” Toby said.

Tess jerked her head up. “Toby. Adrienne? Is that you?”

“Yes,” the cheerleader said, nose wrinkling. “It’s me.”

“Thought I smelled you,” Tess said. “What do you want, Toby?”

Toby colored, unsure how to defend Adrienne’s honor. He took the cowardly, and smart, way out—by doing nothing.

“Look, Tess,” he said, “we want you to be straight with us.”

“We?” she said. “Who’s ‘we?’ Are there more of you?”

She turned her head side to side. A couple of them squirmed in discomfort. I knew the feeling; she had the uncanny knack of making people forget she was blind. No one else in the group spoke up.

“A couple of guys from the team,” Toby said finally. “It doesn’t matter. We just want to know—did you set Carl up or not?”