Page 78 of Vying Girls

‘So, what, he’s been here then? I thought he was kicked off the island?’

‘How sure can you be that it was given to you outside of the lodge?’

I shake my head. ‘I can’t.’

Nic glances around. My heartrate quickens as I watch her open her wardrobe and check under the bed.

‘You think he’s here?’

‘I don’t fucking know, Tilda.’ She tosses up an arm. ‘Might as well check. We’re here all bloody weekend.’ She sighs, pointing the hand holding the note at me. ‘Stay here. I’m going to lock the door.’

‘What?’

‘Just stay!’

I slump back on the bed, even more freaked out when I hear her lock the room from the outside. The curtains are open here too. I cross to the window and grasp them, unable to help a quick peek out. Just as I do, the forest floodlights go out, as does Nic’s lamp.

Heart thumping, I close the curtains. Thank God I’m permanently attached to my phone. I turn on the torch, hearing Haz shout a protest from below. Either because of the power cut or the crazy psycho possibly hiding in the lodge.

Insane to think the only psycho in my life was once Nic, and now she’s running around making sure I’m safe.

I arc my phone around warily. The light snags on something on the back of Nic’s door.

It’s a mask.

My breath catches. Rising from the bed, I take a closer look, the wood shiny like it’s wet. It’s not the exact mask. Same design, but it’s smaller. Or perhaps it just seems that way now I’m older.

I touch the wood, the grain cold on my fingers. I hadn’t been tall enough to reach it back then, it had been nailed so high on the conservatory wall.

I step backwards until my legs hit the bed. The harsh light of my phone torch gives the mask a fluttering quality, like it’s shifting on the door. I slide down to the edge of the bed, unable to drag my eyes away.

There’s no way that’s a coincidence, no bloody way.

Nic.

My heart squeezes, a hand finding its way there. It’s so jarring to see it here, this tiny shred of evidence that that time meant as much to her as it did to me. It severs the paranoia, throwing me back to a time long past.

I’m still staring when the door unlocks. Nic pushes it open with her shoulder, her hands full with two drinks.

She hands one to me, the sweet, spiced scent of rum invading my nostrils. ‘Well, he’s not here. Must have slipped it in whilst you were at uni.’

‘Great. That makes me feel so much better.’

‘Probably wasn’t even him. One of his minions at The Order would have been all too happy to help.’

I frown. ‘The what?’

She waves a dismissive hand. ‘Society stuff.’

‘TheOrder?’I scoff lightly. ‘Lame.’

‘Yeah. Pretty much.’ She crosses to the window and peels back the curtain. ‘Fucking power. We should be careful this weekend. It’s a good time if he was going to do anything.’

‘Oh my god, I hate this.’

‘Don’t fret. Damien likes playing the long game. He’s patient,’ she says derisively. ‘Saying that, you probably shouldn’t sleep alone tonight.’

‘Oh yeah. You offering?’