Victor brushes my hair from my face. “Would you like me to sit with you?”
I don’t want to be alone.
I think the words, but I don’t answer as I cry. The bed dips and his hand gently rubs my back. “Shh, now. Shh, now. Sleep, miss. You’re not alone.”
I do eventually sleep, but even in my sleep, I don’t escape Grey.
This time when I wake up, my eyes are dry and all the emotions that were rumbling around my chest have settled. I stretch my arms out, pushing off the blanket, and sit up, taking in a deep breath. I’m alone. The room is dark, but my opened curtains let in the night’s sky. Stars shine bright, shimmering against the black.
I slip my legs off the side of the bed, eyeing the silver tray Vic brought earlier. My legs feel heavy from the boots I’m still wearing, so I lean down and take them off, letting them stay where they fall. Hair from my fallen messy bun brushes my arm, and I realize my jacket is missing. I must’ve taken it off while I slept.
Standing, I pad over to my closet. After removing the rest of my uniform, I open my dresser drawer to grab a sleep shirt, but I’m held frozen, held prisoner by my heart, fixed to the shirt that’s folded on the top.
It’s the shirt I wore of Grey’s at the lake. The one I stole and slept in almost every night since. My fingers brush the fabric as I pull it out, slipping it over my shoulders, feeling the hem hit midthigh. I raise the collar to my nose and inhale, but it doesn’t smell like him anymore, just like detergent. I swallow, hating what a twit I am. This is so dumb. He treats me like shit, because he’s mad, basically throws a tantrum, and I’m in my closet about to cry again over a shirt.
I hate him. God, I wish that were true.
Leaving the closet, I let my bare feet sink into the plush carpet and head toward my window seat. Sitting down, I pull the extra-large T-shirt over my bent knees in an effort to make the world feel a little bit smaller, or safer, as I look out. My arms hug my legs, my chin finding a spot on my knees as I think.
The world looks the same as it did yesterday. It’s a strange thought, but I guess I assumed that without him somehow it would change, that the stars would become duller or something. But it hasn’t. It’s all still there in its grandeur. The only change is that I don’t want to look anymore.
I close my eyes, hugging myself tighter, when my door opens and calls my attention. My chin presses to my shoulder, and I smile at Vic as he walks in.
“I’m glad you’re awake, miss.” He looks flustered. “I realize the time…” My eyes glance at the clock, seeing it’s a little after 1:00 a.m. Shifting back to Vic, I take my knees from under my shirt and stand, taking in that he’s in pajamas and a robe.
“Vic,” I question, worried, “is my father okay?”
He holds up a hand, nodding. “Yes, I’m sorry. Earlier, you said no visitors, but there is a Miss Whitmore in the lobby, and she’s very displeased at being turned away. She’s quite a force. She managed to coerce the front desk to call up—says it’s an emergency. I thought perhaps you’d like to speak to her before I enforce security.”
Grey.
I should let her get hauled away, but she’s here in the middle of the night. Something’s happening because there is absolutely no way Caroline would show up on my doorstep if it wasn’t an emergency.
“Tell her I’m coming down.”
“Yes, miss.” He nods, leaving me.
Vic walks out, and I head to my closet, throwing on a Hillcrest sweatshirt over my T-shirt, some black leggings, and my sneakers. Grabbing my cell, I run my fingers through my hair, uncaring about how my face looks as I walk out of my bedroom and head downstairs. I pick up the pace as I make my way toward the elevator where Vic is already standing, holding the door open.
“Thank you,” I say, breezing in and turning, waiting for the doors to close.
It takes less than thirty seconds to make it to the bottom floor, but I’ve already talked myself out of strangling her twice. If she’s playing another game, she’s going to meet a much meaner version of me than she already has. The doors pull open after the ding, and I step out, immediately locking eyes with the brunette I despise.
“You look like shit. Almost as bad as him.”
I close the few feet between us, eyes locked with my arms crossed, noticing the staff looking in different directions.
“Are you serious? Did you come here to comment on my looks? I thought it was an emergency.” My hands motion toward security. “Time for you to go.”
She jerks my arm down. “Stop. I didn’t come to fight.” Keeping hold of my wrist, she pulls me toward a quieter spot. “I need your help.”
“Bullshit,” I level, snatching my arm away. “I would never help you. You know that.”
“I know.” She glares, lifting her chin. “It’s for Grey. He’s in trouble. He lost his mind after the cafeteria scene the two of you caused—”
I scoff. As if I had anything to do with that. But she holds up a hand to stop me.
“He was going to drive home, but he was drunk, so I called Kai over, and Kai misunderstood something he said and spilled about Paul.”
My back straightens. I’m listening now. Really listening. And I don’t trust this little snake. In fact, I’d like to cut her head right off.
“Did you orchestrate that? On purpose? It’s hard to believe any other way.”
She shakes her head. “No.” But I narrow my eyes. “No. I didn’t set it up.”
I still don’t believe her. “Doesn’t matter. His bad behavior isn’t my problem. That bridge has been burned.”
The words shoot out, strong and harsh, and I mean them. Even if it kills me.
“God, you two are so much alike with the grudge keeping. No wonder you’re in love.”
“Love?” An empty laugh leaves my chest at the insinuation that he loves me. He set me up to hurt me. That’s not love. It’s…I don’t know, but fuck him. I start to turn around, but her hand lands on my arm to stop me, and my face shoots to the touch and back to her face.
“Sorry,” she breathes, backing her hand off me and furrowing her brow like she’s contemplating what to say next. I don’t know why I stand there, but I do, waiting for her to speak.
“I pushed Grey. Pushed and plotted, hoping he would be mean. Laura was my idea. But it was supposed to make you jealous.”
“Lie.”
She smiles like she’s been caught. “Fine. It was supposed to make you angry. Make you walk away. Also showing Liam you didn’t care about him as much as he’d hoped. I wanted you gone. I knew I could weather Grey’s hate, and he’d get over you, but I could never make it through Liam’s devotion to you if you stuck around.”
Holy shit. She’s diabolical. I’m equal parts impressed and disgusted. My face must give me away.
“I know. It’s practically sociopathic, but the only flaw in my little plan is that Grey won’t get over you. He’ll destroy everything, sink to the lowest of lows, hate, self-destruct until he becomes nothing…because that’s what he feels like without you.”
My voice is barely above a whisper, taking it all in as I ask, “What lie did you tell Grey to make him so cruel today?”