Lana didn’t have a choice.
She didn’t have a mother, either. Her parents had died in a car accident, and her only relative in the world had agreed to take her reluctantly, because she came with a healthy sum of money and assets.
Lana lived with her uncle and his much younger girlfriend, the one Dad said had enough plastic surgery for three desperate housewives of Orange County.
Tears began to leak from my eyes. I never cried.
“I hate you,” Lana whispered softly into my ear. “I hate you, Sailor Brennan. I don’t even like archery all that much. I came here because my uncle wanted to take Miss Deidre on a vacation in the Cook Islands and thought it would be a good opportunity to throw me somewhere where other people could watch over me. But I promise you, now I will make it my mission to take what is yours.”
I thought about all the times she’d called me ugly this weekend, said my face put her in a bad mood. And I realized she didn’t think it was an accident. Nothing could make her believe it was. She thought I’d deliberately taken away the thing closest to her heart as a part of a game, and now I had to pay.
“You want to be an archer? I will become a better one. You get a pet? I’ll kill it. A boyfriend? I will steal him. Whatever you acquire in life, Sailor, I will take it from you. Because you took something from me.”
The arrow dug deeper into my back. I tried to twist and turn to get away from the pain, but it followed me everywhere. She pressed harder.
“Stop,” I croaked. “Please. I’m sorry. It was an accident. You’re hurting me.”
Lana didn’t deter. I felt the arrow piercing my skin, reaching my bone. I hated begging, hated lowering myself to asking for mercy. With a yelp, I turned around and pushed her with all my strength. I let out a feral growl that felt like it wasn’t even coming from me. She flew back, collapsing to the mud. I ran toward her, realizing I’d pushed her by the arrow.
I crouched down. “Lana? Oh my God. Are you okay?”
What have I done now?
She lay on the bed of yellow and orange leaves, blinking lethargically at the raining sky—the way I’d seen that boy from the castle do all those years ago—defying the rain, and the hail, and the wind. Standing up to the darkness.
The arrow was stuck in Lana’s stomach. A red stain began to form around it through her fleece jacket.
No. No. No.
“Never…forgive…you.”
Those were her last words before my parents found us.
Before she was rushed to the hospital.
Before Dad made the entire thing go away, making sure no one knew what happened—about dead Spot, about how Lana suffered a bowel injury called peritonitis, where some of the contents of her intestines spilled into her stomach and caused an infection she suffered from for weeks. She was bedridden, alone in the hospital, with her uncle only returning after he’d finished his vacation, during which he’d married his girlfriend.
I knew Lana would make good on her promise to get back at me.
I never adopted any pets.
Never had the courage to fall in love and get attached to boys.
And I bided my time until I knew I could win.
The day of my match with Lana, I came to the range an hour early, knowing she’d be practicing. I was right. I lurked under the roofed stands, watching her draw an arrow and send it spiraling to the inner red mark of the target. A clean kill. Lana was good, at least in all the places she wasn’t bad.
The four judges from the Olympic committee had already entered the club. Junsu and the staff were talking to them upstairs. Their bags were at the reception area. Before I went to the range, I asked Bill if he could go outside and see if there were any photographers. I promised I’d keep an eye on the bags. He agreed. As soon as he was out of sight, I planted what I needed in each of the judges’ suitcases. When he came back, I pressed a wet kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you for being a great friend.”
“Sure thing. Thank you for being the least scary warrior I’ve ever met.”
I smiled. I knew it was goodbye.
He didn’t.
I’d spent the night trying to figure out how I was going to use the information Hunter had given me about Junsu and Lana in a way that wouldn’t frame him, and I hadn’t slept a wink.
At the range, I made my way straight to Lana’s target. The ground was soft beneath my feet, but I knew better than to think the fall would be anything short of painful.
I stopped when my back was pressed against the target, standing in front of Lana, daring her to draw. We were alone out here. She could, if she wanted to.
Lana lowered her bow, her eyes narrowing into suspicious slits.
Wordlessly, I threw something between us. A simple bandana, offering her a rematch.
A smile tugged over her lips. The taunting kind.
“So sorry I had to sample your boyfriend. Not knowing what he tasted like was a mystery I couldn’t bear,” she purred sweetly.
Even though I believed Hunter, her words still hit me somewhere deep. I wanted to pounce on her and tear her limbs for even uttering his name. He was mine, even when he wasn’t.
I smiled back at her. I had a plan. “Take the bandana.”
“I can kill you, even blindfolded.”
“Please do. Was he good?” I asked, watching as she made her way to the bandana in the middle of the space between us.
“So you don’t know? You two haven’t spoken?”
I shook my head. She thought he’d kept her secret.
“He was great.” She flipped her shiny hair to one shoulder, still walking. “I might see him today for dinner after I’m done whooping your ass. We’ll see. The Patriots’ quarterback also wants a date. It’s hard being me.”
“I can imagine,” I said.
She picked up the bandana, went back to her spot, and tied it over her eyes. Raising her bow, she aimed at me. My heart was in my throat. I wanted to move away, to punch my own face for what I’d gotten myself into. Lana’s hands were steady, but her chest rose and fell quickly.
“You idiot. You know I’ll do it,” she muttered, seeing nothing behind the blindfold.
“Then do.” I swallowed. “Kill me like I killed Spot.”
“Don’t say his name,” she warned. “Don’t you dare.”
“It was an accident,” I repeated. “A terrible accident I’ve regretted every moment since that day.”
“I know!” she snapped, lowering her bow momentarily, stomping. “It wasn’t just about Spot, you idiot. It was about everything. You had parents and a family and talent and security. And you were easy prey. So insecure and apologetic and…and…” She waved her hand in my direction. “You.”
She raised her bow again, huffing, “Now stand still.”
I did. Sweat dripped down my spine under my sweater, and I felt my legs shaking. I wanted to throw up. She drew the arrow again. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.
Do it. Get it out of your system before it is my turn to hurt you back.
“Drop out of the match, and I won’t kill you,” came her voice.
My eyes popped open.
“That’s a big request,” I said hoarsely.
“You are my target,” she pointed out.