His face swims in front of me.
Joey holds me steady, gripping my arms. “Ready to stand?”
I blink in an attempt to focus, but everything keeps slanting.
He rises first, then helps me to my feet. When I sway, he pulls me close, capturing me under his arm. “Are you alright?”
“No.” I lean into him, unable to feel my feet beneath me. The ground ripples before my eyes. “I don’t feel so good.”
“Can you walk?”
I take a couple steps. With Joey guiding me, we move at a painstakingly slow pace. I just want to lie down. I bend over and throw up one more time before we make it to Blackwood’s border.
“Ashton’s safe,” Joey says low in my ear. “Brendan has her.”
I nod, and then everything goes black.
Everyone loved you. Even me. When all I wanted was to hate you.
I can feel the pounding pain in my head before I’m fully awake. And for a minute, I consider going back to sleep. But then I picture Ashton disappearing like smoke, fading into a train of red fabric.
“It was supposed to be you.”
My eyes snap open.
Light filters weakly through the windows, the sun lost behind a blanket of clouds. Exactly how I feel.
I ease up, the haze intensifying.
Someone’s on my couch, almost completely hidden beneath a blanket. He rolls over and electric-blue eyes blink awake.
“How are you feeling?” Joey asks, propping up onto an elbow.
“Not great.” I wince, my eyes scrunched into slits.
“There’s some Excedrin and Powerade on the table,” Joey tells me, throwing back the blanket and sitting up.
“Thanks.” I open the bottle and pop the pills in my mouth, draining half the drink as I swallow them. “What happened after you found me? I don’t remember getting here.”
“It wasn’t easy. You passed out just as we made it to the fence. Lance helped me maneuver you around it, and I carried you across the field. I have no idea how we didn’t get caught. And sneaking into the dorm, well … it’s better that you can’t remember.”
I press a hand to my pulsing skull. “And Ashton?”
“She’s in her room. Brendan’s with her.”
“Did he do something to her … in the woods last night?”
I fight to bring everything into focus. The leather jacket. Vic’s face glaring back at me. My heart misses a beat when Joey remains quiet. “Joey. Is she hurt?”
“Brendan found her on a cliff over the lake. She’s a little banged up, but I think she’s okay.”
I’m trying to process what he just said, but the fog in my brain makes thinking impossible. “A cliff?” Then I see it. One of the jagged landings jutting out over the water. “Did he … push her?” My pulse races when I imagine Vic doing to Ashton exactly what he did to Allie. I strangle the bottle in my hands, the plastic crunching beneath my ire.
Joey remains solemn, unable to meet my eyes. “I don’t know how she got there. She was unconscious when Brendan found her. I haven’t talked to him this morning to see if she said anything.”
I pull off the covers and lower my feet to the floor. Standing is a battle with gravity. I stumble to the bathroom, holding on to whatever I can to keep me vertical. After using the toilet, I opt to get in the shower, hoping it’ll wash away the shroud hanging over me, keeping me from thinking clearly. Everything aches. The more I move, the more my muscles protest.
I walk out in a towel.
Joey’s cheeks redden instantly when he sees me. He averts his eyes, concentrating on folding the blanket. “Uh, should I leave?”
“Do whatever. I need to see Ashton.”
“Um, right. I should probably get back to Lance’s room.”
“Thank you … for helping me last night,” I tell him, pulling a sweatshirt over my head with the towel still wrapped around me. “How’d you find me anyway?”
“Brendan. He was able to track your phone and sent me a pin of your location.”
Of course. I forgot he said he’d be able to locate me as long as I had the phone on me. He obviously takes his stalking seriously.
“Did you know Vic was back?” I ask, pulling yoga pants up under the towel before removing it and tossing it in the corner.
Joey stills, his back remaining to me. “Um, he’s not.”
“What do you mean? I saw him.”
“Yeah,” Joey sighs, trying to be gentle with his words. “You kept saying that last night.”
I’m frozen with my bra woven through my arms under the sweatshirt. “You don’t believe me?”
“Lana, I swear it wasn’t Vic,” Joey says quietly, like he really didn’t want to say it out loud.
I finish dressing just before he slowly turns to face me, pity in his eyes.
I glare at Joey with my arms crossed. “I heard him.”
Joey presses his lips together, breathing in deeply. The action is reminiscent of his father, like he’s preparing to tell me something I don’t want to hear. “I’ve been messaging him. He’s still in Europe.”
“You’ve been messaging him?” I echo incredulously.
“I wanted to be sure I knew where he was. Figured if I pretended to be interested, like we’re friends, I’d be able to keep tabs on him. Make sure he’s far away from you.”
“And did you message him last night?” I demand, knowing what I saw. That it was Vic in the woods with Ashton.
“Yeah. It was, like, seven in the morning where he was. He was still up from partying. Even sent a video he took at a club he went to earlier that night.”
“Let me see.” I hold out my hand, demanding his phone.
Joey looks at me, my hand and then down at his phone. I wait. He finally taps the screen and passes it over.
A WhatsApp conversation is displayed on the screen. Instead of playing the video, I scroll up and scan their previous chats. Mostly meaningless crap. But then I see my name and stop. It’s an exchange the day after my birthday.
I can feel Joey watching me.
Vic: Whatever happened between you and that girl in the car?
Joey: Which girl? Lana?
Vic: Whatever her name is. The bitch.
Joey: LOL Yeah she’s a handful. Nothing happened. She wanted my brother. Used me to get into the party.
Vic: Stay away from her. You don’t need that bitch fucking with your life.
Joey: He can have her. She’s not worth it.
I tilt my head at Joey’s choice of words. I know he was just placating Vic, but there’s bitterness in his last sentence, like he really meant it. I mean, I did pretty much reject him the night before that message. But not for his brother—for Grant.
Dismissing it, I scroll down to last night’s messages.
Joey: Hey, you still in Europe?
Vic: Yeah. In Berlin. Insane night. Check this out.
There’s a video. The still image is of his face with red lights behind him. It was sent at 2:17 a.m. My finger hovers over the play button, but I can’t make myself watch it. I can’t stand to see or hear him. Instead, I toss the phone back to Joey.
I could have sworn it was Vic in the woods. But … maybe it wasn’t. It all feels distorted now, like … I was drugged. Because I was.
He studies me for a second. “Are you okay?”
I take a breath to collect my thoughts. “I guess. I just need to see Ashton.”
As I reach for the doorknob, an envelope shoots out from under my door and across the floor. I open the door quickly, wanting to finally catch the psycho before they disappear. A girl stops short in front of me with a stack of books in her arms. Another girl stands beside her. They stare at me curiously.
“Did you just slide something under my door?”
“No,” the girl replies like I’m crazy.
“Did you see who did?”
“Um … there was some girl in the hall, but I wasn’t really paying attention.”
The girls walk away without giving me a second
to ask them more. When I come back into the room, Joey has the envelope in his hand.
He offers it to me with a baffled expression. I tear it open. Inside is a picture of Brendan leaning against a doorway, watching something … or someone. On the back, in linear red letters, is written:
“What does that mean?” Joey asks, looking over my shoulder. “What’s he lying about? And who gave it to you?”
I stuff the picture back into the envelope without a response. The message isn’t exactly shocking. Brendan is a liar. Except I don’t know what he’s lying about.
“Lana?” Joey waits for an answer, but one doesn’t come. “Did someone send you the group picture on Nantucket too?” He pauses in thought. “Was there a message on the back? I don’t remember there being one.”
That’s because Brendan made a copy, so Joey wouldn’t see the message. How many more lives will she destroy with her lies? The messages are the one secret that only Brendan knows.
“Don’t worry about it,” I say casually. “I gotta go.”
Before I can leave, Joey grabs my arm. I look at his hand in warning. He doesn’t let go. “How many of these pictures have you received? Is someone watching you?”
“It’s not like that.” I yank my arm away. He releases me. “I don’t think I should tell you anyway. You’re already way too involved with this Vic thing.”
He inspects my face, trying to decipher what I’m not saying. “You don’t think I should be messaging him,” he concludes, his voice flat.
“You’re pretending to be friends with a psychopath! You don’t think that’s a problem? Joey, you don’t need to keep lying to him, or anyone else. I’m not worth it.” My words come out with force. I can’t hide the bitterness. But why should I care what he said to Vic, even if he did mean it?
Shock flashes across Joey’s eyes, which quickly transitions to regret. “You know that’s not how I feel.”
“Do I?” I grab my campus phone and walk out the door, knowing he can’t follow me.
My reaction was harsh, and I instantly regret it. Joey searched for me in the woods last night and stayed with me overnight to be sure I was okay.
I shouldn’t be upset about the messages. It’s actually smart of Joey to pretend he doesn’t care about me so Vic will confide in him. Maybe the hurt comes from not wanting to believe Joey had it in him to pretend. To lie. To deceive. It’s like that night on the golf course all over again.
Maybe everyone’s lying, and I can no longer sense the difference between the lies and the truth. Or I’m still too shaken from last night to know what to believe.
I walk to the end of the hall and gently knock on Ashton’s door. The door cracks open and then widens, Brendan on the other side.
I brush past him wordlessly and move directly to the ladder leading to her loft bed.
“She’s asleep.” The quiet pain in Brendan’s voice stops me.
I slowly turn toward him. His eyes are bloodshot. His hair is a mess, like he’s been trying to tear it out of his skull. And dark circles frame his haunted eyes. He looks like he hasn’t slept in a month.
I move closer to him and whisper, “Did she say anything about what happened?”
Brendan’s jaw tenses as he deliberately blinks, like the words themselves ignited the rage roiling beneath his skin. I can sense it, like muscles flexing. I’m familiar with what it feels like to cage that much anger behind the thin veil of control. Not knowing what will finally set it loose to wreak havoc and tear everything apart.
“No,” Brendan replies in a barely controlled growl.
“Did he”—I don’t even want to ask—“hurt her?”
“I found her on a rock ledge over the lake. I don’t know if she fell or he pushed her. She hasn’t said anything. She’s been throwing up all night when she’s not sleeping.”
“Should she go to the hospital?” I glance up at the form concealed beneath the blankets, my chest aching.
“No. I know how to take care of her.”
There are empty bottles of water and electrolyte packets strewn on the counter and her desk. I want to ask how he knows what she needs but decide not to question him.
If she’s not better later today, I’ll take her to the clinic myself.
“How did you find her?”
Avoiding my gaze, Brendan walks across the room to stare out the window. “Same way Joey found you.”
“Ashton has a phone too?”
“Yeah.”
A quick rap on the door traps the next question in my mouth.
Brendan answers in the same way he did when I arrived. Lance slips in quickly, glancing behind him as if to confirm he wasn’t followed.
“Hey,” he greets Brendan. When he notices me, he comes over and wraps his arms around me, holding me tight. I don’t react, the concern surprising me. “How are you? Do you know what happened last night? Who drugged you?” He steps back and inspects my face, like all of the answers are there.
“I … uh … no,” I respond brokenly. Because as much as I was convinced it was Vic, I can’t be sure now. Not after talking with Joey and seeing the messages.
“Lance, will you stay with Ashton for a few minutes? I want to ask Lana some questions without Ashton overhearing us.”
Lance glances between us. I know he hates being left out—the disappointment evident on his face. “Yeah, sure.”
Brendan peeks out through the cracked opening. Then he strides across the hall to the service elevator. He waves a card over the controls, and the door opens. I follow him, not at all surprised he has access to the elevator.
He doesn’t look at me while we’re in the elevator. I examine him in our silence. He looks like he’s on the verge of falling apart. I’ve only ever seen him composed, like he’s prepared for a photo shoot. So seeing him barely holding it together is disturbing.
When the elevator doors open, Brendan covertly scans the hall and then grabs my arm, pulling me after him. We swiftly cross the hallway and enter the Quiet Room. There isn’t anyone inside, thankfully.
“What the hell happened last night?” Brendan demands as soon as the doors click shut. His voice is rough, laced with anger. “Who did this to her?”
I watch his jaw twitch as he waits for an answer.
“Um … I don’t know. I was drugged too, remember?” I sit on the worn leather couch, gripping my aching head.
“Right. Sorry.” Brendan blows out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “What do you remember?”
“Not much, really.” I struggle with what to tell him because none of it feels real. “I thought … I thought it was Vic, but I don’t really know who did this.”
“Vic?” Brendan says this like he’s doubtful. He begins pacing in front of the fireplace. “What would he want with Ashton?”
“To get to me. I swore I heard him say that she was supposed to be me. That I was the reason for everything that’s happening.” I pull my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.
“Everything in what way?”
“I’m beginning to question if I really heard him or if it was the drugs. It was just before Joey found me, so he would’ve noticed Vic if he was really there. Joey swears he’s in Berlin. So maybe … I just thought it was him.”
“I can find out.” He looks a million miles away, like he’s only half here. Brendan collapses onto a wingback chair and covers his face with his hands. “Did anyone touch your drinks?”
My back straightens. I’m ready to tell him I’m not that stupid. That I never let anyone handle my drink, except … I did. The only beer I drank, and only half of it, was given to me. “Yeah, um … but I don’t think he did it. He was drugged too.”
“Who?” Brendan demands, glowering at me suspiciously, like this is all my fault. And a part of me inexplicably feels like it is.
“His name is Sawyer. He’s taking summer classes at Printz-Lee. Maybe Joey or Grant can check on him. He didn’t look so good when I left him to find Ashton.”
“Yeah, he’s not my priority,” Brendan snaps.
I roll my eyes at his dismissal. “He may know something, Brendan.”
Brendan closes his eyes and inhales deeply to take this in. “Then who did she leave with? Or did you imagine that too?”
“A guy in a leather jacket … I’m pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure?” Brendan scrapes his fingers through his hair. He forces a breath through his nose, fighting for composure. “What the hell does that mean, Lana? Did someone take her or not?”
I close my eyes and try to picture him. I remember feeling like the trees were closing in around me. Ashton’s blouse fluttering in and out of view. And there was a guy, holding her by the arm, forcing her deeper into the woods. I open my eyes and connect with Brendan. “Yes. There was someone leading her away. But I don’t know who he was.”
His fists clench. He looks like he may scream or tear the room apart—or both.
“I know you care about her, Brendan. So why are you pushing her away?”
“Don’t,” he warns in a low rumble.
I ignore his warning. “How do you know her? What happened between the two of you before coming to Blackwood?”
“She’s none of your business.” There’s a hardness in his eyes that puts me on guard.
“She’s my friend!” I am so fed up with his evasiveness; I want to hit him over the head. “And you haven’t been honest with me about anything! Not her, the Harrisons, or even why you’re really here. You tell me that I have answers for you. But if you want my help, then I need to know the truth!”
“No, you don’t, Lana,” he responds coolly. “You only want to know. There’s a difference.”
I release a frustrated grumble. Technically, he’s right … maybe. But without knowing the truth, it’s impossible to say what’s necessary and what isn’t.
I blow out a breath, trying to appeal to him rationally. “You don’t think it’s strange that you and I have been connected pretty much since birth? That we have the same lawyer? Potentially the same father? And now we’re both at the same school? Doesn’t this feel a bit set up to you?”
“Fine. I’ll tell you about my connection to the Harrisons,” he concedes with a bite. “But not Ashton. Leave her out of this.”
The Cursed Series, Parts 3 & 4: Now We Know/What They Knew Page 4