How to Kill a Man in Thirty Seconds

Chapter 52: Honesty

Mason cast me a withering glare as we stood outside the Principal's office. His mother, a giant woman with frizzy hair, stood beside him, mirroring his gaze as she stared at me. One of Mason's legs was tightly bound in a cast. One of his arms was in a sling, his other gripping a crutch that supported his entire weight. The boy's ebony face was a fascinating patchwork of differently colored bruises.

Adrian was still nowhere to be seen.

I had barely had any sleep last night. I'd lain tossing and turning, trying desperately to suppress the fear I felt and the urge to go find him.

Adrian was an hour late already. My mother was fidgeting impatiently beside me, but my heart had picked up, worry expanding to full blown terror. Why wasn't he here yet? Had anything happened?

"Mum, something's wrong," I said, pushing to my feet, "You need to get Harrison to postpone the hearing."

She grabbed my arm as I made to leave, her grip like a vice. "You're not leaving, Charley Green," she stated sternly.

I tugged myself out of her grip.

"I have to," I said, before taking off in a sprint.

Adrian's house appeared empty and foreboding as I reached it, panting. The shattered upstairs window, that I had spotted on my first trip here, remained broken, the front porch still dusty and bare. Cobwebs lay along the corners, spiders skittering about their business along the white threads. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath my feet, threatening to give away as I stepped onto the rickety porch.

My heart pounded in my chest as I rapped on the front door and waited.

Silence.

"Adrian?" I called through, rapping harder and more vigorously, "Adrian?"

Silence.

My heart leaped in my chest. Before precious seconds passed, I had leapt off his porch to do something I knew fully was illegal. I picked up the nearest rock. Drawing my arm back, I sent it sailing through the window with as much force as I could muster. The glass shattered into pieces, shards flying in all directions. I'd crawled through the opening in an instant.

I nearly tripped over a bottle of alcohol as I found my footing. The bottle rolled somewhere under a nearby couch as I regained my balance. More bottles of whiskey and rum littered the floor of Adrian's living room, some half empty, some fully. The stubs of a few burnt out cigarettes lay haphazardly by them.

My heart sank in my chest. I shouldn't have paid heed to his words last night. I shouldn't have let him spend the night alone.

Maneuvering my way around the mess, I nearly crashed into the tall figure that was unsuspectingly making its way into the room. Adrian staggered back and a moment passed before recognition flashed in his eyes and he froze. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath until a breath of relief left me.

"Adrian," I cried, and my frantically pounding heart slowed for a moment.

Adrian's eyes were bloodshot, his face still as pale as a sheet and his hair a disheveled mess. The bags below his eyes had sunken further, and he looked like he hadn't had any sleep. My heart dropped in my chest as I realized he was holding another burning cigarette between his fingers, a trail of smoke drifting upwards from the lighted tip.

Guilt flashed through his eyes as he followed my gaze and he stubbed the burning tip against the hardwood table.

"What are you doing here, Charley?" he asked dismissively as he walked past me to pick the strewn bottles of booze off the floor. Adrian sounded exhausted.