Shit, there he goes being all noble again.
“It looks like he got some good hits in,” I point out as I set down the bandages, antiseptics, and wet cloth from the bathroom onto the bed next to him.
He sneers. “Don’t be fooled. The blood on my clothes is mostly from him, not me. I fucked him up real good.”
“On school property.”
“He won’t do a goddamn thing. My father likes to keep his secrets buried deep.”
He’s acting tough and proud of himself, but I know deep down, this has got to be killing him, so I press my lips to his cheek. “Thank you, Angelle.”
I slide my hand across his chest and move in to press my lips to his, but he turns his face away, catching me off guard.
“Okay,” I whisper.
His jaw is taut and his gaze is bleak. That takes me by surprise more than him pushing me away. Cupping his cheek, mindful of his injuries, I guide his face back toward mine.
“What is it?”
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
That’s never good, and with the year I’m having, I know it’s going to rock my world.
I sit next to him but keep several inches of space between our bodies. “I’m listening.”
Releasing a heavy sigh, he turns away from me to look straight ahead and runs both his hands through his hair. “Fuck,” he growls. “I hate this.”
“You’re scaring me.”
“You know why we hadn’t had sex for so long before Hawaii?” he asks, completely throwing me off balance. Where’s he going with this?
“Um, no. I have no idea.”
His face contorts, as if he’s in physical pain, and he grits his teeth. “It’s because I found out something, and I couldn’t touch you. Didn’t want to taint you.”
He’s got my stomach roiling with anxiety now. “Saint, I swear to God, if you don’t tell me right this moment—”
“Remember what I told you about my thirteenth birthday? What my dad made me do?”
Vividly. I remember every detail of that conversation and it makes me want to vomit.
“When you told me about Nora and those women, I confronted him. And then he told me…”
When he trails off, another memory hits me square in the face, only this time it’s of the day Nora hand fed me some of her truth. When I’d asked why Mr. Angelle had finally decided he was done with her five years ago. She’s sneered at me and rolled her thin shoulders.
“He offered me a way to earn my freedom,” she’d said, a tight, vicious smile quivering at her lips. “I performed. He lied. Good thing Ghost has a soft spot.”
“Ellis, I—” Saint starts, his voice gravelly, but I lift a hand between us, pressing my fingertip to his lips.
Sliding down to the floor, I squeeze my eyes shut. “It’s okay.”
But it’s not. Why did it have to be this way? Why did there have to be so much standing between us? It wasn’t fair.
When I look up at him again, he’s watching me, his jawline hard and a defensive look in his eyes. No doubt, he’s waiting for me to leave.
I’m not going to do that, though.
I get back up. Tuck myself into his lap. Wrap myself around him. “It’s okay,” I say again.
We stay this way for a long time—the god and the mortal—and when he finally speaks, it’s only to growl, “You’re going to be the death of me.”
I draw away from him, my gaze wandering over his features. “How does this end?” I finally demand, my voice hoarse, my stomach twisting as he wipes dried blood from his face with one hand and skims the fingertips of the other over my collarbone.
“Just like it fucking started.” The look he slants me with is both fire and ice. Savage. “Badly.”
Leaning over, I grab my phone from the bedspread and hold it out to him. “I might have something that’ll help.”
33
My stomach is nothing but nervous knots for the next few days as I wait for Nora to contact me. She should be reaching out any time now, either by phone or through Ghost, as our Sunday meet-up is supposed to happen this weekend.
I’m honestly terrified to interact with her again given everything I now know. I don’t know whether I should confront her about it all, or wait and stay quiet, pretending everything’s as fine as it usually is.
Though it’s probably the most logical one, the problem with option number two is that I’m furious and I don’t know that I can keep myself in check around her. Saint tries to help, calming me down as much as he can by fucking me into oblivion each night, but my anger just comes back the next morning, fresh and hot.
It’s been three days since Saint and I made up, and honestly, he’s become the highlight of most of them. We hang out during the day and sleep together at night, and we actually talk to each other about our lives. Now that all our worst secrets are out in the open, we’ve managed to have normal conversations about things like books, movies, and favorite sports teams.
It’s a weird change of pace, but I really like it.
He hasn’t told me anymore about his encounter with his dad, but I don’t push for more information. If he wants to tell me he will, and honestly, I could be perfectly happy never knowing the details.
God knows I knew more about that family than I ever wanted to know.
That’s what I think, anyway, until I spot Mr. Angelle on campus. I’m walking to class, feeling better than I have in ages, when movement catches my eye by the administration building. I turn and freeze when I see Saint’s dad moving down the sidewalk. I can’t help but stare at his bruised and battered face. I thought Saint had gotten a beating, but seeing Jameson, it’s clear the younger of the two was the victor in their fight.
I feel a strange, savage satisfaction at that realization.
Mr. Angelle doesn’t look my way or divert from his path at all. He appears to be on a mission as he climbs the steps to the administration building and disappears through the doors.
Whatever the reason for his visit, Saint should know that his father’s here. I dig out my phone and send him a quick text, then tuck it away and continue on to my class. The day progresses pretty normally from there, and I almost forget about Jameson’s visit entirely, until fourth period. As the substitute teacher is going through her lesson, she’s suddenly interrupted by the intercom speaker hanging above the board. It’s what Headmaster Aldridge always uses when he’s making a big, school-wide announcement.
“Students of Angelview Academy, I have a quick announcement that I’d like to pass on from the board. Given the high number of tragedies that have plagued us this year, the board has decided it would be in everyone’s best interest to cancel this year’s prom.”
There’s a silence, then the classroom explodes with sounds of outrage. I’m a little stunned myself. How does canceling prom protect us? Shit, was that why Mr. Angelle was here earlier? Delivering the board’s decision, or attempting to manipulate things to fall in his favor?
I have a bad feeling I’m going to be blamed for this. Somehow, someone’s going to come up with some bullshit logic to pin the whole thing on me, to make me the bad guy once again when I was actually starting to look forward to the event. Saint promised me a night of normal, and I’m disappointed I’m not going to get it now.