Suddenly, he turns to the door.
“I thought Nora wanted to see me,” I say.
He shakes his head hard and doesn’t look back at me when he snarls, “I’m fucking done.”
When the door slams shut behind him, I release a shaky breath of relief. I’m sure there will be consequences for that later, but for tonight, I’m just grateful that I’ve escaped another encounter with Nora.
I need more time to figure out exactly how I’m going to make her pay for everything she’d done.
34
My relief doesn’t last long. After some time to really think about what I’ve done, I realize that my anger at Nora clouded my judgement and I really fucked up. If Ghost disappears on her, I can only imagine how furious she’ll be.
Will she hurt Jenn?
What am I thinking? Of course, she’ll hurt Jenn. Nora is vicious and has proven she had no qualms lashing out at people that get in her way.
Or those whom she believes are in desperate need of punishment. She’ll have no problem striking out at Jenn to prove a point, and a bitter sense of dread settles over me.
Nearly two weeks pass with no word from Nora whatsoever, and that’s terrifying. I go about my days, trying my best to pretend everything is fine, but I don’t think I do a particularly good job of it.
The Tuesday before prom, Loni flat out asks me what’s going on.
“You’ve been really on edge. Again,” she says as we’re walking across campus together. I’m on my way to a study session with Saint, and she’s supposedly heading to the rec center to work out. I say supposedly because I’m about 99.9 percent sure she’s sneaking off to meet with Gabe.
I may have been distracted lately by my Nora-esque issues, but it hasn’t slipped my notice how weird the two have been around each other.
“I’m fine,” I say. “Just stressed because of all the exams coming up, I guess.”
Only a half lie. I’m stressed as fuck, but it’s not because of the exams.
Loni comes to a stop, and I turn to face her with a frown.
“You’re not telling the truth,” she says, pointing her finger at me. “I thought we were done with the lies.”
“What are you talking about? I am telling you the truth.”
But Loni doesn’t budge. She levels me with a look that tells me she’s not buying it.
Before she can speak, I hold up my hand and sigh. “Look, I don’t really want to talk about it, okay?”
She stares at me for several moments, and I think she might try to push the subject more, but her shoulders sag into a shrug.
“You’re going to tell me, Mallory.”
I smile softly. “Eventually.”
She rolls her eyes but slings her arm around my shoulders and we continue walking.
“Okay, so let’s talk about something safer,” she chirps. “Prom. Are you excited to have Angelview’s lord escorting you to his own house for this thing?”
I don’t know that this is that much safer of a topic. I’ve got some pretty mixed feelings about prom because I can’t stop thinking about Mr. Angelle’s warning—that everyone has their limits. Saint could change his mind about me.
The truth is, I half expect him to.
I can’t let Loni know that, though. As far as she, and everyone else who sees us, are concerned, we’ve finally overcome our differences in order to be together. Anything else would just make people suspicious, and I don’t need anyone digging into my life, trying to figure out how I tick.
“Thrilled,” I finally drawl, then groan. “I don’t really know what to think. I don’t even have a dress yet.”
Loni squeezes my shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’m sure that part will work itself out.”
How a dress is magically supposed to appear in my closet is a little beyond me, but she gives me a knowing look, and I just smile and nod.
“Maybe,” I say. “Dress or no, I think I’m just a little nervous. Saint and I haven’t really been out on a date or anything before. Not anything so official, anyway.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure you guys will be fine,” she insists. “Saint’s crazy about you, that much is obvious to anyone who sees the two of you together. He’ll make sure the night is damn near perfect for you.”
I’m more willing to believe that he’ll have some nefarious plot for me to fall into. Some way to humiliate me so badly, I quit the school on the spot and am out the next day.
It’s infuriating having these thoughts for someone I love. I wish it could be different, and I hate myself for constantly going back to that.
“Oh great, Twatiana,” Loni suddenly murmurs, dragging me from my muddled thoughts. When I spot Laurel sauntering our way, I instantly want to vomit.
What the fuck does she want?
“Cunts,” she chuckles as she comes to a stop in front of us. “I was wondering if I’d run into you bitches today.”
“Still pissed you’re no longer daddy’s little girl?” Loni teases, dropping her arm from my shoulders so she can put her hands on her hips. Loni’s mother had recently announced that she’s pregnant, so she’s been shoving Laurel’s face into it ever since. “I wonder if you’ll have to share your trust fund.”
“Trust me, Dora, I give zero fucks about your slut mom’s little anchor baby,” Laurel replies, her tone vicious. Loni just flutters her lashes, unfazed. “I just wanted to check in and see how our white trash mascot is doing after everything that’s happened to her?”
I almost laugh in her face. Like she gives a damn how I’m doing about anything. The only emotions she wants from me are frustration and anger because that’s how she knows she’s getting to me.
“What exactly is there for me to be upset about now?”
“I’m sure the continued absence of Mr. Porter must be weighing on you,” she says with a vicious grin. “It’s strange how nobody seems to know where he went or why. Do you have any idea, Mallory? What with your history and all, you probably know him so much better than the rest of us.”
My hands clench at my sides, but I press my lips together so I don’t say anything stupid. She’s getting to me, and she knows it.
Thankfully, Loni steps between us and gets in Laurel’s face.
“Mr. Porter isn’t Mallory’s responsibility. Wherever he went, he’s a damn adult and able to make decisions for himself. Back off.”
Laurel’s grin widens, and the hairs on the nape of my neck shoot to attention.
“Okay, maybe she doesn’t know where Porter is.” Her eyebrows curve suggestively, and it’s clear she doesn’t believe that. “But what about Jon Eric?”
I stiffen. “What about him?”
Her gaze meets mine, and she looks evil and gleeful.
“Apparently, the detectives have been sniffing around again, asking his friends and family questions about his disappearance. Have they talked to you yet?”
I keep my expression neutral, working my hardest to not give anything away to her.
“Why would they talk to me?” I shrug. “I wasn’t Jon Eric’s friend.”