Corrupt Page 19

The brisk October air hit my legs, and I felt the brittle fallen leaves brush against my bare ankles. I was in my school skirt and flats, my legs completely bare, and chills broke out all over my body.

I jogged across the clearing, seeing the massive, wooden doors of the cathedral boarded shut, and rounded the corner, heading to the side. The grass was overgrown with weeds, and stones from the foundation were dislodged and broken, lying along the cathedral walls.

Music poured out of the broken stained glass windows, and I reached up, grabbing the bottom of the windowsill and stepping up on one of the three-foot high arches carved into the bottom of the church wall. Pulling myself up, I peered into the church and let out a small smile.

Damn.

Speakers were set up around the room, blasting music, while two guys—one of them Kai, shirtless and without his mask—battled bare-fisted in the center of the wide-open floor, surrounded by male and female students cheering him and the other guy on.

Judging by the relaxed crowd and the grin on Kai’s face as he jabbed at his opponent, I guessed it wasn’t a fight fight.

More like sport.

While the music blared and small groups of students wandered about, talking, laughing, and drinking from their beer bottles, I saw a few people disappearing behind the sanctuary and down some stairs.

Did old buildings like this have basements? Or—no—I thought to myself, St. Killian’s had catacombs. I’d heard about that.

Shifting my eyes up, I noticed the vast space above, the balcony section of the old church forming a semi-circle that looked down over where the altar would’ve once sat. Most of the hardwood pews had been torn out and sat in piles around the room, while the old cast-iron chandelier, reminiscent of medieval times with its candle holders and ornate design, still hung above the unholy debauchery of fighting and drinking going on below.

I spotted Miles Anderson making out with his girlfriend on a pew, and I immediately dipped my head down. I didn’t like him or her, and I didn’t want them to see me.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

I widened my eyes, my stomach instantly knotting as I turned my head to the right.

Michael stood a few feet away, his chin tipped up, staring at me through his mask.

Gripping the sill, I felt my heart pick up pace. “I…” I started to speak but felt too stupid

to say anything. I knew I shouldn’t have come. “I wanted to see.”

He cocked his head, but I had no idea what he was thinking. I wished he’d take off that

damn mask.

I held my breath, watching as he climbed up behind me, gripping the windowsill at my sides and planting his black boots on the two arches to my left and right.

What was he doing?

The heat of his body covered my back, and I braved a glance up, watching him gaze through the broken cathedral window, seeing what I saw.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I finally spoke up. “If you want me to leave—”

“Did I say that?”

I snapped my mouth shut, watching his fingers tighten around the bottle of Kirin in his hand. Michael had big hands, like most basketball players, but they were nothing compared to his height. He was nearly a foot taller than me, and I hoped he was done growing. I already had to look up at him.

I closed my eyes for a moment, desperate to just lean back and relax into him, but I held back. Instead, I dug my nails into the stone, forcing my eyes forward and watching Kai take the other guy to the ground, both of them wrestling like an MMA fight on the concrete floor.

Michael brought the beer up to his lips, and he must’ve lifted his mask, because I heard him take a drink. But then my eyebrows shot up, seeing the bottle appear in front of my chest.

Befuddled, I hesitated only a moment before I took it, keeping my smile to myself as I tipped it up and drank. I held it between my lips, letting the bitter taste sit on my tongue and then swallowing.

When I tried handing back the bottle, he waved me off. I relaxed, taking a few more sips, content that he wasn’t kicking me out. Yet.

“That door leads to the catacombs, right?” I asked, gesturing to the students inside that were heading through the darkened doorway behind the sanctuary.

I held the bottle to my chest, turning my head up to Michael.

He nodded.

I turned back, watching the two guys and girls disappear. “What are they doing down there?”

“Having other kinds of fun.”

I tightened my jaw, frustrated with his brief, cryptic response. I wanted to go inside.

But then I heard him breathe out a small, quiet laugh and felt his mask brush against my ear, his low voice whispering in my ear, “No one knows about you, do they?”

I pinched my eyebrows together, wondering what he meant. He took the bottle out of my hands and set it down on the sill.

“You’re such a good little girl, aren’t you, Rika? Good girl for mommy, good girl for teachers…” He trailed off before continuing, “You’re a good girl on the outside, but no one knows who the hell you are on the inside, do they?”

I clenched my teeth, staring ahead at nothing.

His hot breath fell on my neck as he spoke, “I know what you want to watch, Rika,” he gritted out. “I know you like to watch me. School girls shouldn’t be so naughty.”

My eyes rounded, and I sucked in a breath, pushing out from between his arms and jumping to the ground.

Embarrassment warmed my face as I dashed for the parking lot, but a hand suddenly caught mine, and I was pulled back in the opposite direction.

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