I’m shocked he’s talking to me like this with other people around, but I also don’t think anyone else can hear him. His words have what I’m sure is the desired effect as my nipples pebble beneath my blazer and button-up shirt and my center clenches. God, how can he get me so worked up with just a few crude words?
“Back off, Saint,” I whisper out of the corner of my mouth. “We’re in class.”
“That just makes it hotter, doesn’t it?”
It does, actually, but fuck if I’m going to admit it.
“You still mad at me?” he asks, knowing full well that I am still fucking mad at him.
“What do you think?”
He chuckles softly then blows a puff of air against the shell of my ear. I squirm involuntarily in my seat.
“I think a rough dirty fuck would make you feel just as good, but if it helps, I’m sorry.”
“For which thing? There’ve been so many.”
When he doesn’t answer me, I tighten my hands into fists as anger and lust battle for control of my body. “Thanks for the half-assed apology for … whatever, but I only care about one thing at this point. Where’s Liam?” I growl, hoping not only to change the subject, but to catch him off guard.
“I’m not his fucking keeper,” he snarls back. “Are you trying to make me jealous or some shit?”
“No, you arrogant ass.” I glance toward the front of the room to make sure Mrs. Hadley hasn’t noticed us, and then I ask, “Have you done something terrible to him?”
He goes silent for several tense moments, and I can’t even hear him breathe.
“You really think I would?” he asks at length, his tone hard.
I gulp, afraid of stepping into dangerous territory here.
“I … I don’t know.”
“I didn’t do shit to Liam.” He sounds furious, but it’s not like he’s done much to dissuade my suspicions in the past. Saint is capable of doing horrible things to people, even those who’re supposed to be close to him.
Just look at everything he’s done to me, and we’re about as close as two people can physically get. Emotionally, though, we’ve never felt further apart.
“Then where is he? You have to know.” Nothing happens around here without Saint knowing.
“Fucking ask him yourself.”
I flinch at the harshness in his tone.
“I’ve … tried,” I confess.
That earns me a dark chuckle. “And here I thought that fucker would bend over backwards to make you happy all for a shot at seeing your tits and a raincheck for a rub and tug. Yet now he’s ignoring you. Hilarious.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
I wish we didn’t have to have this argument right here. I feel like I’m at a huge disadvantage with him at my back. It’d be so much better if I could look him in the eye as I tell him to fuck off.
“It’s funny how you never asked me if I was behind the other little problem you had recently.”
My shoulders stiffen at his words. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I do. Of course, I do. The image of Jon Eric floating in that pool rises in my mind, a horrific memory I know I’ll never be able to forget, no matter how much time passes me by. I never asked Saint if he had anything to do with it because I know he didn’t. It’s not a mystery to me who killed Jon Eric, but I can’t tell Saint that. So, I keep my mouth shut.
My silence seems to have the opposite effect I was hoping for, however. I think I accidentally confirm whatever suspicions he’s already got in his mind.
His breath brushes my ear again and he whispers, “We both know why you didn’t ask me, Mallory.”
“Because you assume I did it,” I hiss back.
“You don’t really think that, do you? You couldn’t hurt a fucking fly, little masochist.”
“I’m not doing this with—”
“But you know why you haven’t asked me?” he interrupts, his breath hotter against my nape—almost scalding. “Because you already know I’m innocent.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit.
I keep my gaze locked straight ahead and don’t give him anything else.
It’s too little too late, though. If Saint thinks I know who killed Jon Eric, he won’t stop until I confess it to him.
I’m able to find some distraction that night when I go to help Loni get ready for her date with Brandon. Still, Saint’s remarks from class still haunt me, as well as some new information I uncovered about Nora and Jenn when I went to the library earlier in the afternoon. I’m locking it all down, though, because Loni deserves this night to be about her. I want to give her my undivided attention.
Unfortunately, she’s an astute, caring friend and can see through my bullshit with ease.
“Mal, are you really okay?” she asks as I French braid her long curls. She’s sitting in front of me with a mirror before her and meets my reflection’s gaze.
I blink as my brain scrambles to answer her, so she continues, “You still seem really out of it. I can’t help but worry—”
“Loni, I swear I’m fine.” I shake my head. “You don’t have to worry, really.”
“Mallory…”
The way she’s gazing at me makes me want to confide in her. The urge is almost overwhelming. I want to tell her so badly. I could really use a friend’s support, especially since I found out where what could be salvaged of Nora and Jenn’s family is buried. I plan on going to visit the gravesites—and Benjamin’s—but I’m terrified, and I know it’d be a lot easier if a friend went with me.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her, but I sink my teeth into my bottom lip to keep it from slipping out.
Putting my hands on her shoulders, I give her a reassuring squeeze and smile.
“Stop focusing on me,” I insist in a teasing tone. “We’ve got to get you gorgeous so Brandon realizes fully how much of a douche he was last year.”
She looks like she wants to press the issue, but after a moment, she gives me a hesitant grin. “All right. If you’re sure?”
I drop a kiss at the top of her head.
“Absolutely. So, what’re you wearing?”
Her grin widens and she pushes to her feet. I move and plop down on her bed to wait for her as she disappears into her closet. Guilt tugs at my gut, and the temptation to tell her everything is still there, but I fight it. I shove it down deep and hold it in as she emerges in a gorgeous orange dress that looks amazing with her skin tone.
I force a smile and keep my secrets bottled up, right where they belong, as we finish her makeup, and then I wish her luck and say goodbye before Brandon shows up.
Wandering down the hall to my room, I wonder for probably the millionth time if leaving Loni in the dark is really the right thing to do. My head and heart at war, I take a deep breath and grab my door’s handle.
To my surprise, I find it’s unlocked.
“Ghost,” I rasp.
Gritting my teeth, I shove the door open, ready to face whatever bullshit Nora has in store for me now.
But when I step into the room, I let out a little cry of relief.