Wicked Games Academy

CHAPTER 45

That night I trembled, thinking back to Victor and how much I wished to take it back, as well all the rebels we targeted. But Clive's teachings had stayed in my ear, and as I watched the boys stabbed the Headmaster and end him with movements like Clive.

I was going to the stables, a dark coat cover me, barely able to stand so halfway I picked up a fallen stick. I hobbled with my cane before reaching the stables smelling of horse dung and hay.

It was dark, like the moon didn't exist. I couldn't speak out loudly but called for him.

"Clive? Clive! It's Nathan! Clive?"

I walked there and the horses were quiet and undisturbed, most of them asleep standing up. Some made noises like they had stuffed noses but no stall was empty.

"Clive? He's gone. The Headmaster is dead. I murdered him."

There's still silence other that soft neighs, and as I raised my voice to say it louder a voice spoke.

"How did you kill him?"

I couldn't find him but his voice sounded like he was above the stable. I looked up at the beams, and without light I couldn't even see him but my heart raced in hope.

"Clive? He told me if I won against you I could see you, but he told you to win so I would be safe, right?"

There's silence, then sniffling. Clive's cries.

"Clive, come to me," I said, holding my arms wide open, as though I could catch him in my state. "You're free."

I heard noises, and Clive lowered himself onto a beam I could see him and finally land on his feet, crouched like a frog, sobbing. It was somehow funny with his long messy hair and the smell of dung around us, but I felt such relief and reached out a hand.

"Turned out we both needing saving. You were saving me, weren't you?" Clive stood up, hair in his face streaked with tears, and I hugged him to me, his trembling body like a bird's, and his bones sharp under his skin.

Clive wasn't a killer—he was just a scared animal someone was training to kill just so he could live.

How could I not have understood that.

"My little bird," I whispered.

He wiped his face, wet, on my pajamas, and I felt how soaked they were, and yet so warm with his breath on it. It was cool, and I felt warmer as we hugged.

"You saved me. Thank you, Nathan." He held my hand gently. "Is he really dead?"

"I got the jugular and brachial veins. He bled out in front of us and had over multiple stab wounds," I whispered.

"You could manage him just fine," Clive said, laughing at the last part. He looked up and his eyes shone with boyish glee and a grin that felt forced.

"No, I couldn't," I said. "Will, Wyatt, Cory, Hale, and the other assassins he used or betrayed or touched all came tonight."

"Tonight?" Clive asked. "It just happened?"

"How did you think I found you? I asked that man," I laughed.

"I didn't think you'd come here, I was so sure it was another trap," Clive said, voice breaking. "So sure I'd have to kill you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the injuries, slum fighting like a vagrant. I'm so sorry, Nathan."

He held my hand gently, as though I were glass, and saw my cane, on the floor.

"I'm tough, I can take a beating per year," I softly said. "Come back to the dorms."