They make me tell them again everything I remember about the party and being pushed down the stairs, then how the car nearly hit me.
“I know it could have just been an accident—” I start to say.
“No,” Gray cuts in firmly. “We’re not treating it like that, even if it was. Do you think it was Cliff?”
“I’m not sure.” My throat feels scratchy and tight. I’m scared, and that pisses me off. My urge to fight my way out of danger is rising up inside me as always. “I didn’t get a good look at the car, but it didn’t look like his. At least, not the one I’ve seen him drive on campus. Maybe he’s got others.”
“As far as I’m concerned, he’s the most likely suspect,” Elias says seriously, “considering we just threatened him.”
“But why would he try to fucking kill me?” I demand, my hands curling into fists.
“Because he wants to shut you up for good.” Declan’s voice is low, dangerous. He looks like he’s about to go beat the shit out of someone. “Because he’s a weaselly little coward who’s scared of what you could do to him.”
“But what about the stairs?” I question, speaking my thoughts out loud. “Could it have been him who pushed me down the stairs?”
Gray guides me to the couch, and I’m thankful for his solid body next to mine. He settles next to me and turns to face me, running a hand over his chin. A little hint of stubble seems to shadow his jaw, but I’m not sure if it’s just the lighting.
“I was with him upstairs,” he says, a muscle in his cheek jumping as he grits his teeth. I know he hates even thinking about the bargain he made with Cliff once. I hate thinking about it too, no matter what his motivation was.
“But you weren’t found until about five minutes after I left him in that room. So it’s possible he would’ve had just enough time to get to you after we talked.”
Fuck.
I hate this.
I’ve let the mystery of my fall and the missing parts of my memory from that night fade away this semester, brushing it aside as other more pressing issues demanded my attention. But with the new memories swirling in my head, I suddenly feel like I should’ve spent more time trying to coax them out before now. Because if what I’m remembering is right, the danger I face goes far beyond being framed for murder or harassed by other students.
Someone wants me dead.
And they’ve now tried to kill me twice.
“Where’s Max?” Declan asks suddenly, his brows furrowing.
I hold up my phone with a grimace. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to call her while we’ve been talking, but she’s not picking up.”
Last time I talked to her, she was about to try to go patch things up with Aaron, and I wonder if the radio silence is because that conversation went well or because it went badly. If it went well, maybe she’s still with him. But I figure if it ended badly, she would’ve called me to talk about it.
I’m just about to call her again when my phone buzzes in my hand, startling me. Her name flashes on the screen, and I let out a breath as I swipe to answer.
“Hey, girl.” I lift the phone to my ear. “I want to hear how things went with Aaron. But first—”
“Listen very carefully.”
A chill goes through my body at the sound of the voice on the other end—a voice that certainly doesn’t belong to my friend. It’s deep, grating, and unnatural, like someone is using some kind of voice modulation software.
“I have Max,” the voice says, and my heart drops into my stomach.
22
For half of a second, the whole world seems to freeze.
It feels like I’m floating, like my body isn’t attached to anything anymore. My mind tries to block out the strange, too-deep voice and the dead air that follows. I want to pretend none of it is real, pretend that any second my alarm will start blaring and I’ll realize it was all just a bad dream.
Another one of my fucked up nightmares.
But it’s not.
The caller hasn’t hung up, and when I hear an intake of breath on the other end of the line, instinct kicks in. My impulse to fight surges to the surface, and I grip the phone so tight I’m lucky the screen doesn’t crack. I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I’m not gonna let anyone hurt my best friend.