Shaking my head, I let her in on a secret. “He made me a spectacle. Because that’s how Aiden takes what he trulywants. It’s ugly. Public. Brutal.” I lean in, voice like silk over steel. “And it’s exactly the wayIlike it. He and I are alike in that way…”
“That’s really fucked up,” she mutters, lips pressing tight together.
With a sneer, I tell her, “Don’t pity me. I’m not a broken girl trying to survive him. I’m his mirror.”
“Oh? And me finally getting with him after years of trying, getting to know him?—”
I cut her off with a snap sharp enough to leave a scar. “Youhavenoidea who he is.” One step closer, and I can smell her fear. “Aiden doesn’t love with flowers or kisses. He’s a storm—loud, violent, and built to shake you down to your bones. That’s why he’ll never remember your name. But me?”
My voice drops. “I’ve cut him so deep, he’ll never forget.” I tilt my chin up and smile. “He likes to show off his toys. What heowns. And I’m his favorite.” After a pause, I look into her eyes. “And he’s mine.”
Her jaw drops as she narrows her eyes. Like she wants to say something, but can’t come up with the right words. Doesn’t matter anymore.
I slide the torch out of its holder and swiftly turn back to her. With full force, I shove my thick-soled boot into the middle of her chest, kicking the breath from her lungs. Then, I slam the cage door with a clang of finality.
Panic morphs her pretty features as she grips the bars of her endless cage. “What are you doing?”
“Now, you’ll never touch what’s mine again,” I say, then dip the flame toward her hair until it, the beer, and her cheap-ass clothes ignite in a ball of fury. The same I’ve held inside and waited to let out.
I place the torch back, swipe off my hands on my dress, then find the exit and slip outside.
Every scream I hear ripping from her dying lungs is a victory chant for me.
Her sobs bring me comfort. My prize.
And I can’t help the smile that overtakes my face as I wander toward the woods in the back ofDeltaHouse, aiming for sorority row. No one needs to know I was there. Besides, all the evidence should be burned up before too long.
But not far from the back edge of the tent and games, I spot a naked figure lying on the patio stones. It’s not moving, and every step I take closer makes my heart pound harder.
Until I lean over him.
“Julien?”
He doesn’t move. Even when I lift his arms and let them fall back down. A slap to the face does nothing. His chest isn’t rising. There are no breaths in the cold night air.
Only a small puncture wound near his lower right ribs shows any evidence of intrusion. A bullet?
Hurriedly, I glance around the area, but no one’s nearby.
But when I look back, I study the face of the boy who offered me my first friendship.
And now…he’s gone forever.
twelve
How cana harbinger of evil look so peaceful while she sleeps?
And deeply, too. She hasn’t moved in several minutes. Breathing evenly, eyes twitching behind her eyelids. I bet she dreams of pulling children’s teeth and gets joy from their lingering screams every morning when she wakes.
Granted, Wicked Wednesday endedlate, but I was up at 4 a.m. on this very fine Thursday morning. Did my entire routine. No problem.
The freshman dorm room is small but tidy. Too soft and pink on her roommate’s unoccupied side to be anything Ashlyn would coordinate. No, her things are bare and minimal. White. Like she doesn’t plan to stay or…doesn’t want anyone to know who she is.
One spiny plant sits atop her desk hutch, and when I stick my finger in, it’s been watered recently. Laptop free of smudges. Locked with a fingerprint. A Kraft-covered planner lies perfectly perpendicular to it with her class schedule. Nothing else inside other than written assignments.
Phone background? Pure black. Like she’s trying to disappear.
Clothes? Hung by color. Those are bright and varied. As if her external appearance is chaotic, but inside, the place she chooses as a domain needs to remain calm.