Page 41 of Eat. Prey. Love. (Apex Academy Capers #5)

My muscles protest with each step I take towards the library, the aches reverberating throughout my body after the rigors of ballet class. Fabreaux definitely tried to kill us today, and I don’t know if it was to make us better or to prove how good she is. Either way, exhaustion clings to me like a second skin, but there’s a pressing need that fuels my weary legs. Rockland’s absence gnaws at my thoughts, her last words echoing in my mind like a malevolent mantra.

I don’t trust that woman not to pop up and cause trouble even if she wasn’t at work today.

I push through the heavy doors of the admin building, looking at the map briefly to find the office my lawyer said he’d be waiting in. I don’t know how he got someone to give him use of it and I refuse to ask; who knows what strings he pulled? When I get the elevator, I push two and wait impatiently as it ascends. It only takes a moment to find office two hundred sixty-nine, and I blow out a breath as I open the door. Farley is ensconced behind the huge wooden desk, glasses perched on his nose as he looks through a mountain of papers.

“Did you… commandeer an office on campus?” I ask in surprise.

Now that I’ve said it, I realize how on-brand that power move is for him.

He looks up, eyes sharp behind round spectacles, yet they soften when he sees it’s me. “Miss Drew,” he greets, closing the book in front of him with a gentle thud. “You look plumb tuckered out. What class has you so thoroughly wrung out?”

“Ballet. That woman has stamina like you wouldn’t believe,” I admit with a small smile, sinking into the chair opposite him. The wood creaks under my weight, as if sympathetic to my fatigue. “Any news on Rockland? I don’t like thinking about her running around like a loaded gun.”

Farley’s expression tightens, a sure sign of concern. He taps a finger on the desk, a rhythmic and thoughtful gesture. “I’ve had everyone looking—Messengers, Postman, other couriers. They’re combing the school and the cities nearby. Anything we find related to your case, you’ll know immediately.”

That’s not exactly an answer, though, is it? Cagey old badger.

“I appreciate that.” I lean back, closing my eyes for a moment, allowing myself this brief respite. Rockland’s absence is as loud as her presence—a void filled with dread that I can’t fill. Her shrieking in our last appointment still rings in my ears; accusations that stick to me no matter how hard I shake my head to dislodge them .

“Don’t let that crazy bitch live rent-free in your head, darlin’. She’s not going to do anything physical and the rest is my problem,” Farley counsels, his voice steady and reassuring. “And I don’t lose.”

I nod, though the knot of anxiety in my stomach begs to differ. Opening my eyes, I meet Farley’s gaze, grateful for his viciously fervent dedication to helping me defeat my adult bully. Many people would say I should simply work it out with her, but when the person holds enough power—real or perceived—you simply can not reason with them. They don’t give a shit what line they’re crossing if they think they have the high ground.

“What other updates do you have, if not where’s she at right now?” I say softly. I’m not sure I want to know this, but I also can’t stop myself from asking. I know his goal when we met last was to do more digging into the vulture’s carefully curated resume. We all agreed it had to be fake as fuck, and knowing what levers to pull is another method of backing her off.

“After what happened in Skelly’s presence last week, I sent my moles to do some digging,” he informs me, his tone grave. “I have an entire team trained by kitsunes to navigate the digital spaces and ferret out information that isn’t easily accessible.”

“That’s a reasonable response to that blow-up, I think,” I reply, the image of the big badger’s stern face flashing in my mind. “Rockland... she’s losing it, Farley. She’s not even trying to hide her crazy anymore.”

He nods slowly. “As much as I hate to say it, that’s not unexpected for her mental condition. Her renewed fearlessness suggests she has a new, powerful pred in her corner. That person is probably using her to get what they want, but it makes her even more of a wild card. It’s worrisome.”

Good to know her insanity is so obvious that it concerns someone as single-minded as my feral country mob lawyer .

A chill skitters down my spine at the thought of my next counseling session. “I’m scared it’ll get worse. That she’ll pry into parts... parts of my life that are private.” Even saying it aloud makes my heart race—the kind of invasive questioning that could leave scars.

“I know,” Farley says, his voice firm. “I’ve taken the liberty of filing injunctions against all publishers linked to her books globally. If we choke her finances, perhaps she’ll reconsider her vendetta.”

Snorting, I give him a wry look. “Those powerful people have money, too. I’m sure they’ll finance her if she stays useful.”

He’s about to respond when a ding echoes in the mostly quiet room. “Speaking of Rockland…” Farley continues, tapping on his tablet with a smirk. “Thanks to your hacker tiger’s GPS program, we just picked up her cell signal in Paris.”

“Paris?” A flutter of surprise lifts the weight in my chest momentarily. “That’s... oddly reassuring. Having her an hour away makes me feel a lot better.”

“In theory, it should,” he concedes, though his expression remains unreadable. “But she’s had her phone off all morning and now it’s on. I’ve got Skelly and Monstro heading for it to see what they find out. Just because she’s not here doesn’t mean she isn’t making trouble, Dolly.”

I nod, feeling the exhaustion flow through me again. “Yeah, I know. My mother excels at doing horrible shit from a long distance, so I’m not naive enough to think Rockland isn’t similar.”

“How is old Lucille? The scuttlebutt is she’s living it up in Ibiza since your odious father got blown to smithereens.”

Rubbing my temples, I shake my head. “Truthfully? I have no idea. I haven’t heard one fucking word from her since I got here. That alone is weird as hell, but not getting a call gloating about getting rid of Bruno is even more bizarre. I’ve been too afraid to reach out to her because we all know what happens when you invite the vampires into your house.”

“A lesson that may become important here, mm?”

How did he know?

Another ping from the DiePad gets his attention and he frowns at the screen. Holding it up, he swipes, bringing up a grainy image of a dimly lit bar. “She’s with Asani Khan at some dive called Le Renard Rouillé .“

“Have your badgers seen anything useful yet?”

“Skelly and Monstro are on it,” he replies, a sly twinkle in his eye. “Rockland may be cunning, but she’s careless when she’s amongst people she wants to impress.”

I nod, comforted that they are close on her tail. “What about online? You know she’s been spewing lies again, trying to paint herself as a martyr. How are you handling that?”

“Ah, that.” Farley taps a few more times, pulling up charts and graphs that mean nothing to me. “Her traffic has spiked, alright. The increase in chatter seems like she’s rallying her troops against imaginary ‘haters’ again— ie , you.”

“But how do we stop her? If she keeps on distorting the truth...” I lick my lips, frowning. “It’s hard enough having built in enemies everywhere I go because of the Heathers or my mother or…”

“Patience, Dolly.” Farley points to another series of screenshots. “I told you earlier that we’ve been digging, too. My guys found a trail of abuse and bullying, stretching back years before she ever swooped into Capital Prep.”

“No shit,” I retort, rolling my eyes. “Color me shocked—shocked, I tell you!”

The badger chuckles, his eyes dancing as he looks at me seriously. “Ten assistants aren’t nothing, Dolly. Ten young souls chewed up and spat out by her within the three years prior to her arrival at Capital Prep. Not to mention other authors she’s terrorized into silence online with that devoted cult following of hers.”

“Preying on the vulnerable is the specialty of cowards like that carrion eater,” I murmur, feeling a surge of anger mixed with fatigue.

That behavior is classic Rockland—manipulative, self-serving, destructive.

“Exactly.” Farley leans back, his chair creaking under his weight. “Once you peel back the layers of her so-called success, what’s left is nothing but a narcissistic opportunist. She’s been fired from every place that’s had the misfortune of hiring her.”

“Bad karma follows her like a wedding train on a runaway bride,” I muse aloud, a faint smile touching my lips at the imagery.

“That’s the country spirit, girl,” Farley says, beaming proudly. “When the world sees her true colors, her halo will tarnish.”

“Leaving her to deal with her own mess, hopefully.”

“Exactly why exposing her is part of my strategy,” Farley says with a conviction that stirs something defiant within me.

I nod slowly, my mind’s eye picturing Rockland’s halo disintegrating, piece by fraudulent piece. “So, instead of being on the offensive, she’ll be too busy scrambling to pick up her own pieces?”

Farley’s eyes glint with unrestrained glee. “She won’t have the time or energy to focus on you.”

A weary sigh escapes my lips as I think of the ceaseless barrage from Rockland. The desire to just breathe without the weight of her malice pressing down on me is overwhelming. “It’s like she’s this shadow, always looming. I’m just so tired, Farley—tired of looking over my shoulder for enemies, tired of defending myself against her lies.”

“Understandable,” he agrees, his voice softening. “You’re carrying a huge burden for someone so young. Luckily you have a strong support system or I fear you might head the way of others I’ve known in the past.”

The room seems to close in on me, the walls inching closer with every beat of my heart. It’s not just the fear of Rockland’s vendetta that gnaws at me; it’s the struggle to maintain a semblance of normalcy amidst the chaos. School should be my sanctuary, yet now it feels like another battlefield.

“Even my degree...” I trail off, the words sticking in my throat. “It’s hard to care about assignments and deadlines when it feels like your life's on the line.”

“And I aim to lift as much of that as I can, though I’m sure your men and my ridiculous cousin are also trying to do so.”

I sigh, feeling the tendrils of anxiety tighten around my chest. “The connection to the twins’ family... it worries me.”

“Rightly so,” he agrees, his expression grim. “It’s dangerous territory.”

Farley’s phone buzzes on the dark wood of his desk. With a quick glance at the caller ID, a change comes over him—a mixture of seriousness and an almost boyish mischief lighting up his eyes as he answers. “Monstro,” he greets, his voice adopting a country lilt that reminds me of home. “What have you got for us?”

I listen, catching only Farley’s side of the banter, but the gravity behind his light-hearted tone is unmistakable. They’re discussing code words, something about Asani and Rockland’s cryptic exchange in the bar. Scribbling notes furiously, Farley nods along to Monster’s report.

This is the song that never ends… Maybe I should take Fitz’s advice and just kill the bitch?

“Keep transcribing, we’ll crack it later,” he instructs before hanging up. Turning to me, his brows are knitted together. “They’re up to something else. But the badgers can’t get any closer without being noticed—the bar’s too cramped. ”

“Will they follow her when she leaves?” My voice barely rises above a whisper.

“Like shadows,” he confirms with a sharp edge of determination.

“Thank you, Farley,” I say, the fatigue seeping into every syllable. With another glance at the clock, I realize time isn’t on my side. I rise, hopeful for the first time in days. Farley’s expertise was a weapon in itself—one I was lucky to have on my side. “I’ve got studio class soon.”

“Keep your head high, Dolly,” Farley calls after me as I retreat. “Remember, you’re not alone in this.”

I offer him a weary smile, my heart a little lighter for having shared the burden, even if just for these fleeting moments. With one last glance at Farley, the guardian of knowledge amidst his literary fortress, I turn and head out, ready to face the rest of the day’s challenges.

“Keep your phone on, Dolly,” he advises, his gaze stern yet kind. “Say hello to my crazy cousin for me, will you?”

“Will do, Farley.” I grip my ballet shoes a little tighter, bolstered by the knowledge that Rockland’s twisted web was beginning to unravel.

“Take care, bunny,” he says as I head for the door, my spirit lighter than it’s been since this whole ordeal began. “You need your strength for all the things coming.”

Boy, howdy, he’s right about that. My first match is this weekend.