“Fine, from now on, every time he gets called to the principal’soffice, he’ll get my fist in his face. Happy?”
“You know very well I’m not. Bob, if you don’t agree to put him in that institution Jenna recommended, I’m leaving. Quill makes me so unhappy, and if you don’t do something about it—I swear to God, I’m leaving.”
The weirdness in my heart has reached an intolerable level. I swing open the porch door and rush into the house, collapsing into Mommy’s arms.
As I do, I realize it’s the first time I’ve ever given her a hug.
“Please, mommy. Please stay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Sorry. I’ll never smile again. I’ll make you happy. I’ll do whatever you want. Just don’t leave me. Sorry, sorry, sorry.”
I look up, my face drowned in tears, and meet her eyes. She looks very unhappy, but also, unsettled… nervous, even. She crouches in front of me and holds me tentatively to her.
“Shhh. It’s okay, Quill. I won’t abandon you.Believe me.”
Chapter 1
Piper
“Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry, Piper. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.”
Each word is like a drum to my temples, making my entire head ache. I can’t stand the sound. But it doesn’t stop. I wish I could punch whoever it is that is causing the migraine.
But I can’t even lift an arm. It’s all I can do to pop open one eye, then the other, the light from the windows blinding me, searing into the back of my eyeballs.
“Sorry. Sorry, sorry. I’m so sorry, Piper. Sorry.”
The man who is speaking those words is dressed in camo pants, combat boots, a thick fleece-lined hoodie under a leather jacket. He’s lying prostrate on the ground, his curly black hair for once uncovered, his face to the floor, the white, soulless mask lying several feet away. And there’s the gun he shot me with, beside it, still smoking.
“I’m sorry, Piper.”
Quill Nelson lifts his head at the sound of my breathing changing. His face is inundated with tears as he continues his mindless refrain, and I swear to God I want to clap a hand over his mouth right now. Punch him. Strangle him.
Anything to make the word repeated on a loop stop. It’s like a nervous tic, each word beating against my brain.
“Sorry, Piper.”
“Fuck. You.”
It takes a lot of effort to speak those words. A lot of effort, because I’m dying.
And the person who killed me is lying in front of me, cryingand apologizing. Only it doesn’t do a thing to me. I feel cold all over as I stare at the boy I once loved. The boy who turned out to be a monster. A cruel man who just shot me.
After killing my parents. After telling his best friends to rape me.
There’s no doubt about it. He’s rotten. Rotten to the core.
For the first time, it feels like, I can think clearly. I’m in more physical pain than I’ve ever been in in my life, but I can breathe. I’m no longer suffocating from being in the same room as him.
It’s as though the bullet cleaved through the stifling air, leaving a tunnel in its wake, a tunnel filled with oxygen. That oxygen helps me think.
And I think I’m going to be sick.
For all my suspicions, I realize I never thought the boy currently sobbing at my feet would be the one to end me.
I blink at him a few times before managing to speak. Not necessarily because I have anything of value to add to this fucked-up situation. Rather, because I’m desperate to cut into his flow of apologies that is driving me insane.
“You shot me.”
He shakes his head, the tears spilling from his eyes. “I didn’t, Piper. I didn’t.”