This can turn bad fast, so I force my muscles to ease, my pulse to calm, my eyes to soften, and it takes everything in me to lift a palm and place it on his chest.
I pretend to surrender to him.
His gaze holds mine a moment, and then he nods, his grip now gentle and sliding to my cheek.
He smiles softly, and it’s almost terrifying how quickly his behavior shifts. “Your new driver is outside, ready to take you to class.”
I nod and squeeze my eyes closed when he kisses my cheek, walking out.
The second he’s gone, a loud cry slips from me, and my hand slams over my lips, but nothing else follows.
It’s just a sound.
I’m fine.
I suck in a shaky breath, spin, and walk out the door.
As I climb into the back seat of the town car, the driver pokes his head inside with a smile, and I recognize him by the mustache on his face. He’s the man who got in Arsen’s face at the club that night.
“Long time, no see.” He chuckles, holding out my phone.
I glare, subconsciously touching the side of my purse where I last knew it to be.
“He took it last night, just in case. I’m Mr. Banks to most people, but you can call me Charles.” He closes the door.
I power my phone on, and immediately, it begins to ding over and over again. I quickly turn off the sound and wait until all the missed messages finish coming through.
I hesitate over Ransom’s name, over Beretta’s and Arsen’s, and my heart weeps wildly, threatening to burst through my chest it pounds so vigorously.
I can see the first few words of the most recent messages and all have one word in common...
Please.
My grip tightens on my phone and I squeeze my eyes closed, but not a second passes before it begins to ring.
I jerk, a queasiness taking over my stomach as I fight looking at the screen. Instead, I go to power it off, but as I swipe the screen, I accidentally catch a glimpse of the name, finding it’s Cali’s.
With a low sigh, I answer, and the moment she speaks, I wish I wouldn’t have.
I wish I would have stayed in my prison a day longer.
No phone.
No outside world.
No one but me.
Because, as Cali cries into my ear, her words nearly incoherent, she’s so distraught, I’m reminded I’m not the only one whose reality can sometimes feel as if it’s too much to bear.
Devastatingly, Jules could no longer take hers.
After getting approval from Anthony, Mr. Banks drove me to Jules’ house, where Cali and others have already begun to gather.
There are at least a dozen cars parked out front and the side gate is open, several students coming in and out.
I text Cali that I’m here, and within seconds, she’s charging out the front door, so I quickly climb out, just in time to catch her when she falls against me, her cries nearly doubling.
I hug her back, but I don’t speak because I have no idea what to say or how to say it.
I didn’t know Jules was hurting the way she must have been, I didn’t know she felt so alone or overwhelmed. I was judgmental and assumed she began drinking heavier because she simply felt like partying.
She always seemed happy, but maybe I should have seen through her facade since I’m so good at hiding myself.
My limbs begin to tingle, an uncomfortable sense of desperation overtaking me, only I don’t know what to do about it, so I stand there and let Cali cry until she’s ready to pause.
When she pulls back, she shakes her head, grabs my hand and offers a small wave to my driver.
He steps onto the curb with us, and I freeze, gently pulling my hand free from Cali’s, stepping closer to him.
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter. You are not following me inside,” I hiss.
Charles frowns, hitting the alarm button on the remote. “I’ve been driving for the twins’ father for five years, beautiful. How do you think their daughter knew about you and Anthony?” He lifts a brow angrily. “I’ll go inside if I damn well please.”
I suck in a quick breath and he scoffs, shaking his head.
He steps around us and I follow behind him with a frown, but I quickly forget about him and focus on my friend.
As we walk through the front door, someone begins to shout, and as we come around the corner, we witness Amy being thrown around by her mom, the photo on the wall behind her swaying, but it’s caught by another student before it falls on top of her.
Mrs. Marino picks up a pile of roses from the floor and heaves them at her daughter, blood dripping down her arms as she cries hysterically.
Amy stands there, frozen, as Dax steps toward Mrs. Marino, trying to soothe her, but she lashes out at him, too.