He’d been on his back, and his eyes had stared up at the ceiling, seeing nothing as his mouth hung open in a silent scream. He died because of me. Because he’d hurt me. I didn’t commit the act, but Ghost used him to make a point.
Nora can do whatever she wants at any given moment, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop her.
My stomach lurches, and I stumble to my feet, staggering to Saint’s bathroom to throw up in the toilet. Why does shit like this keep happening to me?
When I’m reduced to painful dry heaves, I begin to sob, my cries accentuated by loud hiccups. I don’t want any of this. The money. Nora. Ghost or Jenn.
I want Carley. I want to go home to Georgia, where the heat is suffocating but the nights quiet. I want to leave Angelview and all its drama behind. Fuck this school. Fuck the people in it.
Dylan.
Laurel.
Rosalind.
Gabe.
Even Liam.
And … Saint. Especially Saint.
I cry harder, realizing how much of a fool I really am because I don’t really mean think that. If I left Angelview—if I left Saint—I don’t know that I’d ever be the same.
He’s stolen a part of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get it back from him, no matter how much I claim to hate him or how much he makes my life hell.
I must be going crazy, to be having such thoughts.
I think of Nora and wonder if crazy runs in the family.
After I wash my face and rinse out my mouth, I drag myself to Saint’s giant bed, collapsing on top of it. I don’t even bother to pull down his sheets. Instead, I curl up on my side in a tight ball and let the tears start flowing again.
I think of Carley.
I think of home.
But when sleep finally claims me out of sheer exhaustion, the image in my head is Jon Eric’s lifeless decaying face.
I’m running down a hall, but I don’t seem to be going anywhere. The walls stretch and wobble but don’t really move. I’m trapped, darting away from a shadow that creeps closer and closer while I’m incapable of escaping its reach.
Suddenly, the floor becomes slippery and I lose my footing, falling to my knees. What is this? I raise my hands, and they’re stained red.
It’s blood.
The floor is covered in blood.
I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. I glance back over my shoulder and that shadow is drawing closer, but now it has a face. Or, rather, revolving faces. I see Nora for a second and then it shifts to Laurel. Then to Dylan, then Finnegan, burnt and charred.
Finally, it’s Jon Eric, his eyes wide and vacant.
I try to scream again, but still, I don’t make a sound. Scrambling to my feet, I attempt to run away again, but there’s something in my path that I smash into. Large hands drop on my shoulders and hold me in place.
Let me go, I want to shout, but my voice is gone. I turn my gaze up and Saint’s staring down at me, his expression blank. His grip on me is firm and I can’t shake free. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t blink. He just holds me down while the darkness descends on me, hungry and ready to swallow me whole.
I wake with a startled cry, shooting straight up in Saint’s bed. Panting for breath, I gaze around, but the lights are still all on in his luxurious room. There are no shadows to speak of to come and harm me.
Heaving a painful sigh, I realize that someone’s knocking on the door. I crawl out of bed, making my way across the room. I crack the door open just enough that I can see outside.
“Thank god, it’s just you,” I murmur when I find Saint standing in the hallway, an unreadable expression taking over his golden features.
He releases a grunt. “Are you going to let us in or not?”
Us? I open the door wider and my heart plummets to the hardwood floor when I find Liam standing next to Saint.
“Did you call him?” I whisper.
“Couldn’t take care of the problem by myself,” he says. “Some extracurricular activities involve team lifting.”
“Saint…” I rasp, but he pushes his way into his room.
Liam follows after him, shooting me a curious look.
As soon as they’re inside, I shut and lock the door again.
Whirling to face them, I ask, “So? What happened?”
“What do you mean?” Saint asks, glancing toward Liam with a shrug. “We’ve had our differences, you know, but we ultimately decided this friendship is worth the hard work necessary to maintain it.”
Liam rolls his eyes, and I let out a frustrated groan as I drag my hands through my messy hair.
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” I hiss. “What happened with the … pool situation?”
Saint chuckles darkly. “Talking in code now, little masochist? That’s adorable.”
The fucker is clearly not going to give me anything useful, so I turn to Liam. “Liam … please?”
But he crosses his arms and gives his head a brisk shake. “It’s better if you don’t know anything.”
I take a wobbly step closer to him, and when my shoulders curl forward, Liam reaches out to steady me. “Shouldn’t I know what to expect?” I murmur after a beat.
He shushes me and bends down to whisper in my ear, “Don’t worry about it. It’s been handled. Not only have I satisfied a debt I owed Saint, I’ll get to collect a thank you from you … eventually.”
My cheeks heat in a furious blush, and I can’t help but glance toward Saint to see his reaction to Liam’s intimate whisper.
He doesn’t seem pleased. In fact, he looks as if he could rip his best friend to pieces at any moment. “Watch it,” he says through clenched teeth.
Liam looks like he’d like nothing more than to challenge Saint, but I remember the split lip he bore the last time they came to blows. Saint hadn’t had a mark on him.
At last, Liam takes a step away from me and shrugs, an air of nonchalance hanging about him. “You should have known I’d go after her when you brought me into this. I’m not going to back down again. Sorry, shithead.”
I should be angrier that they’re talking about me like I’m an object, but I’m too drained to put up a fight about it. Moving around Saint, I sink down on the edge of his bed and drop my chin to my chest, fisting my hands in his bedspreads as they have the same old argument all over again.
“Go for it,” Saint’s saying, his alpha male on full display now. “You can go now. We both know she’s not going to follow after you.”
I can tell Saint’s high-handedness rankles Liam, who glances toward me as if he’s waiting for me to contradict what he’d just been told. I simply don’t have the energy to deal with their shit, so I say nothing, earning a frustrated huff of breath from him.
He turns for the door but pauses before he opens it. “Let me know if you need anything else from me.”
“Thanks, neighbor,” Saint replies through gritted teeth.
“That was for her. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her,” Liam retorts.
“I was there for you sophomore year, remember?” Saint reminds him in a voice that makes the back of my neck prickle.
They don’t say another word until Liam’s out the door and it’s shut firmly behind him. Then, moving like a predator, Saint starts my way.