by Lindsey Iler
“Palmer, let’s be reasonable.”
“Don’t, okay?” She marches forward, forcing me back into the room. “The list isn’t done, Marek. You breaking into my dorm room, being so gentle, only to force your hand, and then at the party with Breaker. The football game, demanding things of me I know I shouldn’t fall for but do. You use everything against me, make me believe I want anything you’re willing to give me. Do you know how that makes me feel?”
“You can’t blame someone for how you react to things.” Even I know how fucked up it is to say this to her.
“Why me?” Fear etches her features.
“If not you, then someone else.” This is a lie. There will never be anyone else. “Can you live with knowing that?”
“Or we could try to be kind and gracious. A human being for once.”
“We both know you aren’t interested in me because of my kindness, Palmer. This is how we work.” It’s how I prefer it. Emotions only fuck things up.
“We”— she ghosts a finger between us— “don’t do anything, Marek. You mean nothing to me.”
“I can live with you hating me.” I circle around her, forcing her to mirror my movement. Her steps are short but meaningful, guaranteeing a safe distance between us, but she’s scared enough not to take her eyes off me. If this was a chess game, she’s played right into my strategy, giving me full advantage. The whole room is in my view, and she’s blind now. The bed is where I want her. Stalking forward, I wrap my arm around her waist and fall to the mattress, trapping her hips between my thighs. “What I can’t live with is you forgetting how I can make you feel.”
“Marek.” She squirms under me, pushing on my chest.
“Not helping your cause, baby.” My hands skim down her sides and over to the middle until I’m cupping her through her pants. She jolts at the slightest pressure.
“I’ll scream.” The threat is empty. She and I both know it. Her chest rises with heavy breaths. She makes one single mistake, though. She wets her bottom lip and nips at the tip of her tongue. Bulls eye. Her tell. Everyone has one.
My hand inspects every curve of her body, fully appreciating her hips, the ripple of her ribs, and comes to rest on her throat. “And I’ll shut you up before anyone can hear you.”
“This doesn’t mean anything.”
There it is. She’s pliable, willing to bend for me, to give me what I want. Deep down, she knows we want the same exact thing. She doesn’t need to justify her wants with me. I’ll lean into them, always, and I will never judge her for falling into my trap every time.
“Of course, it doesn’t.” I apply slight pressure on her throat. I inhale her perfume, burying myself in her neck, enjoying the way she feels underneath me.
She reaches between our bodies, whipping through the buttons on my jeans. With enthusiasm, my jeans are pushed down my thighs, and she rolls me onto my back. She straddles my lap, and I sit up to rip her shirt over her head.
“You hate it, don’t you?” I run the back of my fingers over her perfect tits. She gazes down at me, frustration cording its way through her body. “You’re so tightly wound, Palmer. What can we do to make you relax? You want to call a truce, you have one, but for fuck’s sake, we better do it with you riding my dick.”
Her fingers skate up my shirt. I lift off the bed, giving myself enough room to pull the fabric over my head.
“This means nothing. You mean nothing. This is sex. My own desperate way of understanding,” she explains again. This girl needs to learn it’s not necessary.
“You so badly want to understand what Reed meant to me, to us, that you’ve forgotten one fundamental thing, Palmer.”
“What’s that?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter, because when I’m inside of you, feeling your walls clenching every inch of my cock, it isn’t her I’m thinking about. You don’t want to understand the shit I had with Reed. It was complicated and messy.”
“Like we aren’t?” she scoffs.
“We hate each other. We both have our reasons neither of us are willing to admit.” I flick my hips up, pressing my hardness against her middle. “It doesn’t get much simpler than that.”
“Then why can’t we stay away from each other? Why am I willing to dance with Lucifer’s spawn if I hate you so much?”
“Hate and lust aren’t much different. When it comes to us, we’re trying to work something out. I don’t know what it is yet, but I’m enjoying whatever this is.”
“We can’t do this.” She tries to throw her leg off me and escape. “You’ve done horrible things to me.”
“You make me feel out of control.” I pull her back, tossing her onto the bed.
Her pants are unbuttoned and gone in a second. I stare down at her bare pussy. No panties. Nice touch.
“Show me.”
Her legs spread wide, an offering, permission to do what I do best. Take.
This girl has eighteen years of daddy issues boiling over right in front of me. What causes a girl to allow someone like me into her life? Even after everything I’ve done, here she is, allowing my hands to run along her body, kiss her flesh, and all I can think about is how willing I am to hurt this beautiful human.
I slide off the bed, standing back to watch her writhe against the white sheets. Everything about her is impeccable, undeniably worthy of greatness.
“What are you looking at?” She sits up and reaches around her back to unclasp her bra.
“Damaged goods.” I push my jeans to the floor. “Lucky for both of us, I have a hunger for it.”
She swallows, unreadable as she takes me in. I crawl up the bed to her. “Is that what you think, I’m damaged goods?”
“Do you actually care what I think?” I kiss along her jawline, knowing she needs a distraction. Palmer is inquisitive. She’ll think about every word I speak of her. I need her blinded.
“Not even a little bit.” She reaches between our bodies, running her hand along my dick. I shudder from the initial contact and settle into her movements.
Our bodies, when together, have muscle memory. She knows what I want. I understand what she craves. Tonight, she won’t get what she’s desperate for. She’s sweet and simple, only bending those expectations for me. This moment isn’t about her. It’s about me proving something to myself.
I roll Palmer onto her stomach and grab her hands, placing them on the headboard. “You’ll want to brace yourself, baby.” My fingers bite into her spine, grinding down the length of her back.
She does as she’s told, surprised by my tight grip. Over her shoulder, she watches me.
I’m going to hate to break you, baby.
I bend down, spread her wide to run my tongue along her slit. She jolts forward from the intrusion. Too afraid to admit she enjoys my tongue on her, she drops her eyes. I do it again, earning a deep, guttural moan.
“Don’t hold back. Get me out of your system.” Her small hand reaches around her body, gripping my length and guiding me towards her.
“Headboard.”
She follows my harsh command.
I grab my shaft and rub the tip along her pussy. One thrust, and I’m balls deep in her, feeling the warmth of her around me. Her walls clench me. I thread my fingers through her hair and tug her face back to me. Our lips graze. From this angle, it’s impossible to take her lips how I’d like to.
This feels final.
Our last time.
A whimper escapes her mouth as I pull out. I wrap my arm around her, rolling her onto her back. Urgent to feel me again, she guides me back to her center.
“Take whatever you need,” she whispers. “I’ll be fine.”
I pump in and out of her, gentler than either of us expect.
This is it. This will be our last time once I tell her what I need to.
“I loved Reed,” I say into her ear as I come undone. Her body stills underneath me. “I was in love with her.”
She pushes on my chest, forcing me off her. I roll onto the mattr
ess beside her. Our breath is stuttering from our lungs. She covers her body with the sheets and curls on her side, staring up at one of the skylights.
“Byron and the boys don’t know,” I say to the ceiling.
“Did she?” She rotates enough to look at me over her shoulder.
“The initials? She’s the one who carved them.” I close my eyes, remembering the way Reed giggled as she hurried through etching them into the tree. Memories I’ve kept in the woods take over my senses.
“She loved you, too, then.” There’s a sadness in Palmer’s voice I can’t quite pinpoint. Is she sad her sister loved me, or is she upset I loved her sister?
“If it makes you feel better, she loved Byron, too,” I admit.
“So, what you’re saying is, that first night, I was a second-place trophy, a consolation prize. Because you can’t fuck a dead girl, can you, Marek?” She sits up, wrapping the sheets around her body.
“You’ll never be Reed.” I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress opposite of Palmer and pull on my jeans. “You should have figured that out by now.”
“Go fuck yourself, Marek.” She stands and drops the sheet, giving me an eyeful of the perfect body she’s willingly handed over to me. Anger fuels her as she yanks on her clothes haphazardly. She takes the stairs like her ass is on fire, and she’s trying to escape the flames, her shirt barely over her head when she reaches the main floor.
She hits the bottom step, staring at me at the top. Anger and resentment swirl in her eyes as she inspects me. Is she hoping I’ll apologize? I won’t. Does she expect me to run after her? It’s not going to happen.
Everything has been leading up to this moment. The fallout. The beginning of the truth that shall set us all free.
“You’re a savage in a saint’s clothing, Marek!” she shouts.
I’m quick, taking the stairs two at a time. We have an audience, which is exactly what I want. This won’t work until the people watching us see her go down.
“I’ve never claimed to be a saint, Palmer. Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were getting into the minute you climbed into bed with Byron and me!” I holler for them all to hear. Now they have a real reason to call her a whore.
In the corner, Delaney’s eyes widen, and Breaker’s mouth lifts in a wild smirk. He and Dixon are the only ones who know what this is all about.
Palmer storms through the house, her best friend on her tail as our classmates sling insults at her. It’s nothing she hasn’t already heard. They’ve used my public denouncement to, once again, tear Palmer down. I’ve given them permission.
I walk over to the front window and watch Delaney comforting her best friend. I’ve exposed her for my own benefit. She won’t ever see it any other way. There will be no forgiveness.
“That was hard to watch. I’m not going to lie,” Breaker says, coming to stand next to me.
“It had to be done, right?” I shrug, ignoring the pit in my stomach.
“Now let’s hope the right people heard.” Breaker pats me on the back and disappears into the crowd, leaving me to watch Delaney’s taillights disappear into the mountain roads.
It’s easy to hurt others when you pretend like no feelings are involved. What isn’t simple is ignoring those feelings and choosing to dig the knife deeper into someone’s chest.
Maybe one day you’ll thank me, Palmer.
Chapter Thirteen
Palmer
Tonight marks the only time at Glass Heart Academy where dress code doesn’t matter. It’s a week before Halloween, and since the early eighties, it’s been our campus’s way of avoiding a traditional celebration.
Rumor has it, back in the seventies, a shit ton of community religious leaders rallied together to stop the celebration of Halloween, deeming it a night of debauchery and devil worship. From pictures I’ve seen in the archives, those old grumbly men may not have been far off.
Now, instead of Halloween, we have a celebration that allows everyone to remove any evil thoughts from our minds. The bonfires are meant to rid our Earth of the unwelcomed, and we’re encouraged to throw glass hearts representing our oaths into the billowing flames. It’s where the school got the name, ironically.
To me, it’s too Salem Witch Trial-like, but through the years, our student body has embraced it. In fact, it’s one of the most anticipated events. The staff turns a blind eye to the blatant parties happening on campus, which gives students the freedom to decide who they want to be for one night and solidify it with a ceremony.
As per tradition, our oath would be written on the glass heart in blood. As we’ve evolved, that requirement has changed to a red permanent marker.
Last year, this event happened right after Reed’s disappearance. I wrote Those who caused her harm. I’m not quite sure if throwing a glass heart into a scorching fire has the ability to “rid our Earth”, but I get the sentiment behind the ceremony.
I’m swiping dark red over my lips and inspecting my handiwork when a knock startles me. With lipstick in hand, I open the door, and the beauty standing in front of me stuns me silent.
“You look gorgeous.” I step to the side, allowing Delaney into my dorm room. She twirls, displaying the flowy, sparkly dress, under her fur coat. She’s paired it with tall black boots, which I’d never think to put together. She somehow makes the look flawless.
“Now, what are you wearing?”
“I don’t know. It’s supposed to snow.” I open the doors of my closet. Combing through my options proves I need to go shopping more often.
“Snow, you say?” I hear the clink of metal on metal and turn to find my curtains wide open. White flakes conceal the windowsill of the second story room. A quick glance outside shows the ground covered in snow. “It’s going to be a cold one.”
“Do we have to do this?” I whine, knowing full well Delaney won’t let me get away with this one. I curl my lip, disgusted by the idea of having to trek through campus in the freezing cold.
“Yes, we have to do this. You, out of any of us, have the most shit to come to terms with.” She pushes past and skims through my closet, returning with a short black dress, glittery belt, and Reed’s shiny Christian Louboutin pumps. “Put all this on”— she tosses everything into my hands, turns back to the closet, and digs out my black peacoat— “and wear this, so you don’t freeze your ass off out there.”
“You chose the shortest dress I own. Staying warm isn’t an option.” I throw everything on the bed and start getting dressed. Once I’ve tugged and prayed the dress will grow an inch or two longer, I give up and check the mirror in the corner of my room.
My hair is longer, the waves falling past my shoulders. I’ve started to gain the weight I lost after Reed’s disappearance. At the time, eating had been the last thing on my mind. For once, I’m starting to feel like my life is getting back on track.
Outside of the Glass House Boys, that is.
I’ve spent the last week avoiding them, trying my hardest to focus on everything but them. They haven’t made it easy on me. Surprisingly, Marek is the only one who’s managed to keep his distance. Breaker still tries to get a rise out of me, but every time, I push him away. Byron and Dixon, they’ve made it their personal mission to make me feel uncomfortable. A glance here, a jab there. It’s all a game.
If only Marek’s friends knew the truth. I wonder how well this little unit would stick together.
“I visited my parents yesterday.” I stare at Delaney through the mirror.
“How’d that go?” She grimaces, knowing what my parents are like.
“They heard about what happened to me.”
“No offense, but they’re assholes for not reaching out to you.” She stands and inspects her lipstick over my shoulder. “After everything with Reed, you’re their only living daughter.”
“I know, but while I was there, I went into Reed’s room without them knowing.” I turn and lift my mattress, pulling out a notebook and handing it to Delaney.
&nb
sp; “What’s this?” She opens it, narrowing her eyes with every flip of the page. “What are all these addresses?”
“I have no idea.” I take the notebook back and skim until I hit one of the last entries. “And what are all these numbers? None of it makes any sense.”
“Maybe it doesn’t need to. Maybe these don’t mean anything.”
“I’d believe that if this notebook wasn’t under her floorboard.” I lift the mattress again, stashing what may be the last important thing that belonged to my sister. “If she hid it, then she thought it held some sort of value. It’s where she’s hidden stuff from our parents since we were little. I should’ve looked sooner.”
“Okay, so, after tonight, we’ll figure out what the puzzle of addresses and numbers mean, but”— she tosses my jacket at me— “for tonight, can we pretend girls aren’t being brutally murdered and attacked on our campus?”
“What if what’s in that notebook is linked to something on campus?”
“What are you thinking?” She pierces me with a knowing glare.
Reed’s empty, bloody dorm room was the beginning of strange occurrences on campus. Three other girls presumed dead and one murdered. One too many for comfort have disappeared, only to return with dead eyes. One still missing. My own personal attack. None of this can possibly be a coincidence.
The walls are closing in on the academy, and tonight feels like we’re being herded to the middle of campus.
“I’m thinking there are people here at Glass Heart who know, participate, and are complacent to the horror of what happened to my sister.” I shudder at the thought.
“Okay, and let’s say that’s true. What do you think the two of us can do about it?” She shrugs, knowing it will be damn near impossible, no matter what our last names are, to dig our way to the bottom of this.
Glass Heart Academy isn’t the first to have this happen. A school over the border of Maryland, a mere fifty miles away, may not have had murders and assaults like us, but rumor has it their female population is fearful of walking alone at night. When families pay large sums of money to further their child’s education, they expect safety for their daughters. It’s been two years of these rumors, and no one has investigated.