The sound of my yell broke the silence around me, and suddenly, I was met with Isaiah talking with the paramedics as he handed off something that belonged to me, with Headmaster Ellison telling me to look away.
“Why is she bloody?” I asked, still struggling to get out of the headmaster’s grasp.
Isaiah rushed over, but I stared past his shoulder at the paramedics jumping into the back of the ambulance and watched in defeat as it flew down the winding drive to leave St. Mary’s all together.
“Cade.” Isaiah’s hands were around my face the second the headmaster let go of me. I tumbled forward and gripped onto Isaiah’s shirt that was covered in blood. Vomit burned the back of my throat as he looked me dead in the eye and said, “I found her with her wrists slit.” He looked away briefly toward the courtyard. “It looked—”
The headmaster interrupted my best friend, and I had no energy to throttle him for what he’d said. “It looked like she tried to commit suicide, Cade. Now, both of you get inside. We need to talk.”
The shower being turnedoff brought me back as I blinked through the water droplets clinging to my eyelashes. A surge of intense emotion clung to my bones as I revisited the one night in my memories that I pushed away until I couldn’t any longer. Isaiah flung a towel at me as I stepped out of the water, and he finished our conversation.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. I can see it in your eyes. We still don’t know what really happened that night. Maybe you should find out. From her.”
I gripped the white cotton towel roughly and wanted to throat punch Isaiah for bringing up that night, even if I was already thinking about it. It was like a black cloud always hanging over my head, and the mere sound of her name on anyone else’s lips made me recoil on the inside because every time I heard it, I was brought back to the last time I saw her. Bloody.
Anger filled me as I rushed to get dressed. I didn’t make eye contact with a single person, not even Shiner or Brantley as they joked and tried to pump me up for the claiming party where everyone assumed I’d pull my normal shit and fuck a willing girl in one of the dirty, hidden rooms. We had more freedom lately. It was the first claiming party that Isaiah, Brantley, Shiner, and I didn’t have to watch Bain—our former rival’s son who we were all sent here to watch. Bain was no longer a threat that quite literally fucked with our futures. Brantley and Shiner were ready to let loose, and I would have been, too, if she wasn’t here.
Instead of losing myself in someone for the mere twenty minutes of solace, I was going to be consumed with Journey—even if she didn’t show up. Because I knew if she didn’t show, I’d be in that hallway, waiting for a mere glimpse of her to pop out of her room like the previous night.
Shiner’s hand slapped on my shoulder, and every muscle in my body tensed. Something clicked into place, and if it weren’t for the tiring game I’d just participated in and the practice of self-control over the last several months, I would have broken his arm in half.
Goddamn, I'm on edge.
“You ready for tonight? Or are you going to stand back against the wall like a fucking freshman at his first party all because Journey is back?”
I bared my teeth, and Shiner’s wry smile stroked my anger and poked at my temper. “Oh, we still can’t say her name? Sorry. Party starts in an hour. There’s a flask tucked behind the portrait of my ol’ pal Abe Lincoln in the east hall. Have at it. You need a fucking drink.”
I shook Shiner’s hand off my shoulder, knowing very well he was right.
Damp,mildew-infested dirt mixed with spicy cologne and fruity perfume filled my lungs. I nearly gagged on the scent. The taste of tequila was persistent on my tongue, and I instantly regretted tipping the flask back before prowling down the veiled hallway that led to the private claiming party, because the taste pushed me right into purgatory.
The last time I had tequila was on the roof of St. Mary’s with the one girl that I was looking for at the moment. I wasn’t sure if she was coming tonight, but I had a hunch because Isaiah kept his eyes on me every time the door to the party opened. The way these parties worked, since they were after curfew, was that everyone had an allotted time to travel the halls to miss the duty teacher. It wasn’t hard to eclipse the authority in this school. Most of them didn’t want any disturbances, so they didn’t really look.
“They’ll be here soon,” Isaiah said as he walked past me, heading for the table of open shots. The lights were flickering back and forth like a rave, and everyone was high on rebellion and drunk on bad decisions. The guys were scoping out the girls, deciding who was making eyes at them and speaking silently of their plans for the rest of the night. I’d been there, done it. Multiple times. I wasn’t in the mood for any of it tonight.
The burn of jealousy surged through me like a hot, metal rod pinning me to the wall. I scanned every guy in the dark room that I knew would make a bad decision and try to pull something with Journey.
I settled on Bain’s group of friends.
He was nowhere to be found.
I knew a rat when I saw one, and although Bain had been quiet for likely the first time in his entire life, and he had helped get Gemma back from the Covens, I didn’t trust him enough to even blink when he was in front of me.
“Where’s Bain?” I asked as Isaiah came and stood beside me. Brantley and Shiner were on the floor, slinging shots like this was their first go-around. To be honest, it sort of was, because we weren’t working for our fathers tonight. There was no true need to find Bain or to follow his moves like before. Except, I would anyway.
“He was here somewhere.” Isaiah scanned the crowd along with me. The thudding of my heart matched the upbeat song climbing from the speakers.
“I still don’t trust him,” I grumbled in a low voice, clenching my jaw.
Isaiah’s eyebrows crowded as he searched further. “For good reason. He helped us, but that doesn’t mean I trust him either. I don’t want him around Gemma. Ever. And he fucking knows it.”
I didn’t have to say it for him to know that I didn’t want Bain around Journey either. The way he used to gaze at her made me recoil with something much stronger than jealousy. He always had his eye on her, and no matter the threats either of us sent his way, he didn’t budge.
Some could say I was paranoid due to my upbringing, but I didn’t believe in coincidences. Too many fucked-up things had been stemmed from coincidences. Nothing was ever coincidental.
“I don’t see him.” My irritation kicked up a notch the longer the girls weren’t here and the longer Bain was missing. Old habits never died. Where the fuck is he?
“Me neither,” Isaiah said, a roughness to his voice as he shouted over the music. I knew he was ready to travel back through the underground hall that we used to get down to the lower level of St. Mary’s, but a second later, he breathed out a hefty sigh. “It doesn’t matter. The girls are here.”