He gathers her long blonde hair and pulls it back to keep it out of her face while she’s puking her guts out. After she empties the entire contents of her stomach, or what seems to be all of it, and is done heaving, she slowly straightens back up.
Using the sleeve of her shirt, she wipes her watering eyes and mouth.
Easton releases her hair, and I watch the silky strands fan out over her shoulders. Then he pats her on the back, and with a low chuckle, says, “Good job, sweetheart. Puking just saved your life.”
Raising an eyebrow, I look at my friend. Before I can ask him what the hell he’s talking about, he grabs her other arm and starts pulling her toward the car. I let go of her and let him take over. Obviously, he has some kind of plan I don’t know about yet.
“What are you doing?” she asks when they reach the car.
“Give me your hands,” Easton orders. She hesitates but holds out her hands after a moment. I watch curiously as Easton grabs both and pulls them to the trunk of the car, making her touch the metal around the lock. With a grin, he says, “Now your fingerprints are on the car, and you’ve left your DNA at the scene of the crime.”
“I… I didn’t. I wouldn’t tell anyone…” Her eyes are wide and frantic as she looks between the two of us.
“This ensures our safety and yours. We go down, so do you, and believe me when I say this…” Easton leans into her face, and even I can feel the darkness in his voice, “If you try and pin this on us. If you tell the police any of this, we won’t just kill you. We’ll do way worse. By the time we’re done with you, you’ll wish you were dead.”
Easton’s threat hangs heavy in the air, and looking at Stella’s expression, I think she is trying to figure out if he is serious or just trying to scare her. Soon she’ll realize that he means everything he just said.
People at Blackthorn know Easton as the pretty boy who gets more ass than a toilet seat, who has good grades and likes to spend his free time at the local strip club getting lap dances. But there is a darker side to him too. A side that most people don’t know or have ever seen. He’s vicious and cruel when he needs to be, and if our lives are on the line, then he’ll do whatever he can to protect us.
“What were you even doing back here anyway?” I ask curiously. She looks to be our age, but I know she doesn’t go to school here. I would’ve definitely noticed her way before now if she did.
“I-I work here. In the cafeteria.” She nervously bites at her lip. I wonder what she’s thinking, aside from the fact that we’re crazy and she’s scared.
“I guess we’ll see you around then,” Easton smiles like we just met up for lunch and are now saying our goodbyes.
Stella seems unsure of what to do. “So, you’re letting me go?” Surprise coats each of her words.
Easton cocks his head to the side, “Unless you think we are making a mistake by letting you walk away?”
She shakes her head, “No, no! I won’t say a word. I swear!”
“Good. I doubt anyone would believe you anyway. I mean, it would be the word of two students against the word of a poor girl,” I tell her. I don’t know why I said it like that, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I regret being so condescending. Her eyebrows draw together, and her lips form a tight thin line like she’s offended by what I said. I shouldn’t care, but somehow, I do. Shoving those feelings down from where they came from, I wave her away.
“Off you go then,” dismissing her like a parent does their child. She stares at me for a moment before taking a hesitant step back. She’s watching me as if she thinks I’m going to pounce on her any second now. “It’s not a trick, you can go,” I assure her.
She gives Easton and me one last look, before turning around and running back inside. I watch the door close behind her, wondering if we just made the biggest mistake of our lives. If she says anything, we can kiss our future goodbye, but if she doesn’t, maybe we could… No, I don’t even want to think about it. I can’t have her and won’t have her.
3
Stella
Driving home, I feel as if I’m losing my mind. Even in a moving car, I find I’m looking everywhere, waiting for something to jump out and get me.
Not something. Someone.
“Stop being paranoid,” I mumble to myself. They let me go, surely, they won’t seek me out again, so long as I keep their secret, which shouldn’t be a problem since I’m not planning to say anything to anybody. Not only did I leave my DNA and fingerprints all over the place, but like blond guy pointed out so eloquently, it’s the word of two rich guys against mine. These two probably have an army of lawyers behind them, while I have, well… nothing.