by Lindsey Iler
“You scare me,” I whisper, tilting my lips away from hers but leaving my forehead pressed against hers.
“Good, because you frighten the hell out of me.” She stands on her tiptoes and rests her hands on my shoulders for leverage, dropping a quick kiss before walking away.
“Breaker will find you,” I say.
She smirks over her shoulder and winks. “Try not to worry too much about me. I’m a big girl.”
She’s dead wrong. All I do is worry. Our relationship has drastically shifted from the night in my bed, when we talked about the things we try not to tell anyone. Ever since that moment, I’ve known. Dammit, this girl will continue to coil around my heart, squeezing me until I pay attention long enough to see the truth.
She’s it. Everything.
Which is exactly why I’m not going to let anyone hurt her. It would be easy to pretend that none of the last year has happened, but I couldn’t live with myself, knowing someone tried to hurt Palmer multiple times, and then we used her as bait to lure who we believed hurt Reed. It does sometimes feel like this is for nothing.
As if the universe is finally on my side, I spot Miss Hughes cutting through campus. I pick up my pace and fall in stride with her. She gives me a sidelong glance. A silent understanding passes between us as she swipes her card in front of the door. The lock clicks, and we walk inside.
“Where’s Reed?” I ask her. Immediately, her eyes dart around the empty hallway. “Let’s not play games. I know she’s staying with you. I know she’s been staying with you, so cut the shit, Miss Hughes, and start talking.”
“Listen, I don’t want any trouble.”
“A little late for that, don’t you think?” I scowl, pushing her into a corner. “Palmer needs her sister.”
“Or maybe you miss having both Weston sisters bowing down to you.”
“Palmer doesn’t bow to anyone.”
“Oh, I see you finally chose.” She smirks. This bitch may think she has one up on me, but she’s sadly mistaken.
“It was no choice.”
“I’ve heard how willing you Glass House boys are at discarding things you don’t want. It’s only a matter of time until Palmer is thrown out.”
“Tell Reed, if she has any trace of humanity left in her body, she’ll reach out to Palmer.” If Miss Hughes has been hiding Reed this whole time, I can only imagine the other secrets she has lurking in her bungalow. I slam my palm against the white wall. The sheetrock shudders under my hand. “Or else we’ll have to come find her.”
She realizes I’m not one to offer an empty threat and holds up her hands in surrender.
“I’ll tell her, okay?” Miss Hughes rakes her eyes over my body. “I’m starting to understand the appeal.”
“I’m not into fucking my teacher.”
“Not what I hear.” She bites the tip of her tongue, trying her hardest to come across as sexy and alluring.
That shit doesn’t work for me. I knock her hand away when she reaches for the bottom hem of my jacket.
“You heard wrong.” I turn, pressing the handle to push my way out of the building.
She clears her throat. “Miss Dutton,” she whispers.
Hearing Valerie’s name catches me by surprise. No one’s mentioned her since she stopped teaching.
“You can shout her name, if you’d like. Hell, you can tattoo it on your fucking forehead for all I care, but I can promise you, what I did to her, I would never do with you.”
With that, I leave Miss Hughes in the middle of the hallway. I walk out into the cold air and release my held breath. It feels like a short lifetime has passed since the last time I spoke Valerie’s name.
My sophomore year, she was my history teacher. I didn’t think anything of it when time after time, she chose me to help her with small tasks. One evening, she emailed and asked me to meet her in the classroom. It wasn’t that far after dinner, so I assumed I had left something. Nothing about her behavior was strange to me.
That was the night our two-month affair started.
Valerie, Miss Dutton, was irresistible. She couldn’t have been older than thirty, and I’m not going to lie, I fell right into her trap. After that first night, she kept slipping up. We had promised to keep it a secret, but she’d made that simple task nearly impossible with her wandering glances and subtle touches as she’d pass my desk.
One night at the house, Reed called me out on it. This was before we became a thing. She seemed jealous when she asked about it, and until now, I’ve never given it much thought. The next day, Valerie’s classroom was empty, and I couldn’t find any sign of her being a teacher. Her replacement stood in front of the class, acting like it was normal for a teacher to bail in the middle of the semester.
I remember looking over my shoulder and seeing Reed with a wicked smile on her face.
“That bitch!” I mutter under my breath.
“Are you referring to Palmer?” Dillon Johnson waltzes out from behind the tall shrubs lining the building. “What were you doing in there?”
“None of your business.” I shove past him.
“I just thought you might want to know that, when you were in there trying to fuck Miss Hughes, Quinn got a piece of your girl.”
“What are you talking about?” My spine sets tight as I look down at this piece of shit. His grin grows wider as the seconds tick by. “What did Quinn do?”
If this has anything to do with the list, she’s gone off script. There’s nothing on there that would cause bloodshed. I’m as crazy as they come, but I’m not that stupid. Some of these mother fuckers would take it too far. It seems Quinn has taken it upon herself to go rogue to get my attention.
“Scissors would have been my weapon of choice, but Quinn has always been a little razor happy.” Dillon’s attempt at entrapment is admirable, but I’m not a fucking idiot. “I thought you’d hate the idea of Palmer’s perfect skin being sliced open.”
“Only that I wasn’t there to witness it.” I start to walk, trying to keep my pace somewhere closer to normal than panicked. What I really want to do is run to make sure Palmer is okay, but the sound of expensive loafers crunching against the cement tells me it’s not a good idea.
I bring out my phone, send Breaker a text, and within seconds, get a response.
Breaker: She’s okay. I’m with her. We’re outside the arts building.
That’s a relief, sort of.
In seconds, I see the crowd. It’s small, but enough to draw someone’s eye. As I approach, I find Quinn standing with a bloody razor in her hand. I stomp towards her, but slow when Breaker leaves Palmer’s side and approaches Quinn. Without knowing it, or maybe being fully aware, he has saved me from blowing our cover.
“Jesus, Quinn. Psycho much?” Breaker grabs her wrist, forcing her to drop the blade.
“You should have cut her deeper.” I project my voice, hating myself the whole time. “Lord knows the bitch deserves it.”
With the smallest amount of willpower I have left, I avoid looking at Palmer. Whatever her wounds are, we’ll deal with them.
Quinn grins, slinking up beside me. “What did she do to deserve this hatred, Marek? I mean, I hate her as much as the next person, but why now?”
“You really want to know?” I bring Quinn close, palming the back of her head to force her ear to my mouth. “Do you get off on knowing others’ secrets?”
With one hand on my arm and the other on my chest, she grins. “Did she break that cold-as-ice heart, Marek?”
“She fucked Breaker.” Well, shit. Might as well double down on this nightmare now. “And although you know I love to share, this time I wasn’t willing to. As far as I’m concerned, she’s dead to me.”
“We can arrange that for you.” Quinn takes one step, and I stop her, gripping her arm.
“Not necessary.” I walk away. Everything in me screams to check on Palmer, but we can’t show them the truth. With another quick text to Breaker, I climb into the Escalade and race through c
ampus.
I kill the engine and race inside the house. A clinking coming from somewhere sends me on high alert. When I walk down the stairwell to the living room, Reed glances up from the small cabinet beneath the television. The drawers and doors are wide open. She doesn’t bother to act surprised.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Where is it?” she yells, nearly snarling like a rabid dog when I approach her.
I know this face. It’s Reed after a bender. Erratic behavior, disheveled appearance, and the most prominent evidence being the red rimmed eyes. She’s high as a fucking skyscraper.
“Dammit, what have you done, Reed?” My hands find comfort on the crown of my head, as she bulldozes through the house.
Chapter Eighteen
Palmer
“Reed!” I squeal, seeing my sister sitting on the couch. Her head is hung low. Marek is resting beside her. His hand is on her leg, comforting but not too provocative. She lifts her head, and I see it. The fear is obvious in her flat expression. “What happened?”
“Are you okay?” Marek’s eyes fall to the blood on my shirt. Quinn’s handiwork has left a stain on the white collar of my uniform. He’s all but forgotten my sister.
I brush him off, too worried about my sister to care about the superficial cut on my collarbone.
“I’m drowning,” Reed whispers. “I don’t know how I got here. I shouldn’t be here.” Her arms flail in the air.
“This is exactly where you should be right now.” I rush across the room and take up the empty space beside her, blocking her between mine and Marek’s body. “Tell me what happened.”
“Old habits die hard, little sis.” Her head lags to the side. A blanket of her amber locks cascades over her cheek.
She’s beyond strung out. I’ve witnessed firsthand Reed in the middle of a bender, and if I were to guess by her appearance, we are on day three or four.
“Did Miss Hughes tell you to come here?” Marek asks. I glance over my sister’s head and inspect him, searching for the reason he would ask this. “I talked to her today, told her how badly you needed your sister, Palmer.”
“No, I haven’t talked to her since she left for school this morning,” Reed answers. “She doesn’t know I’m”— she paints an invisible pattern over her body— “in this kind of shape. I’ve been hiding in one of her guest rooms.”
“I’m going to get her something to drink,” Breaker announces, leaving the three of us alone.
“What happened in here?” My eyes dart at the disarray.
Reed kicks her legs up on Marek’s thighs and plops her head in my lap. We settle into the sofa, allowing the silence to overcome everything. Watching my flesh and blood in physical pain is brutal, but to know she intentionally caused the damage brings rage and uncertainty.
Reed has always been a perfect example of being your own worst enemy.
“What’re we going to do?” I whisper to Marek, combing my fingers through Reed’s hair to comfort her.
“She was searching for something,” he mutters, covering his face with his hands. “She needs help, Palmer.”
Like a cannon, Reed bursts off the couch, putting as much distance between us as she can. Her wild eyes ping-pong from one part of the room to the next. She’s planning her escape. Marek reads her, too, rushing to stand in front of the doorway. I take a straight course towards her, holding up my hands to try not to scare her.
“He’s right, you know?” Reed pokes her finger in the air, directing her anger at Marek. “I do need help, but no one can help. I’m a lost cause.” She spins around, waving her arms in every direction. “He doesn’t want me anymore.”
“Is that what this is about, Reed?” Marek inches forward. “You’re bent out of shape because we aren’t us anymore?”
“Is that so hard to understand?” She backs up, hitting the glass wall. Her hands hold her steady.
“Yeah, it is, seeing how you could barely muster up enough admiration when we were together to actually give a fuck about me.” His words strike like a bullet, cutting right to the bone.
“Two words”— Reed holds up two fingers— “Lovers Tree.” She drops a finger with each word, making a show of her point.
Suddenly, I’m in the middle of a conversation I don’t want to hear. Too afraid to leave my sister, I settle in, preparing to hear the truth of their relationship.
“You carved our names in the tree on my birthday.”
“And I told you, for as long as I lived, you would never celebrate alone.”
“Yes, and in the moment, I believed you, only to find out the truth the following week.” Marek throws his hands in the air, his frustration more than obvious. Reed is too high to notice. “You only made a spectacle of the Lovers Tree because you knew Byron would see it.”
“That’s not true.” Her face turns beet red.
“Yes, it is.” His laughter is manic to the point of frightening. “You played us. At least Dixon and Breaker were smart enough not to get too emotionally involved.”
“You loved me,” Reed pleads with a matter-of-fact statement. It’s bold, and I hear the truth of her belief.
“No, Reed”— his eyes dart to me— “I may have believed I loved you, but you made it clear to me, love doesn’t mean shit when it’s one-sided. You never loved me. You were obsessed with the idea of being loved by me. You were in love with the control you had in this house. Nothing between us was genuine.”
“AHHHH!” Reed rushes forward, her open palm ready to sting Marek’s cheek. He’s quicker than her, wrapping her in his arms. She fights him, endlessly. “Go fuck yourself. Fuck you, Marek.”
I watch my sister break down. The strong exterior I’m used to seeing crumbles in front of me. In its place is a shell of the girl I used to look up to. A pretty girl fallen from grace. Unable to bear the heaviness, my legs buckle, and my back guides me down the wall to the floor.
With my arms wrapped around my body, I witness the saddest thing I could ever imagine. A girl realizing the harsh reality of her life, willingly letting it tumble down around her, trapping her so she has no choice but to face it head on.
Marek clutches her tight until her body goes limp, and yet, he continues to hold her, rocking her like a small child in the middle of a meltdown.
Over her head, we examine each other. Remorse forms in his eyes as the tears in mine pour out like a slow drip. There’s trouble in my heart, and the physical evidence is there for him to see, but not to understand.
“I’m sorry,” he mouths.
A boy who has no reason to apologize, does so because he knows the pain I feel inside my heart.
He’s the kind of boy who, without knowing it, morphs into a man who’s selfless for those he deems worthy. Along the way, I’ve become one of the lucky ones. It may not be how Reed wants him to love her, but there’s no denying the way he feels about her as he does everything he can to control the assault her emotions are taking on her body.
The boy who’s afraid he’s incapable of loving has never realized he’s surrounded by love.
Breaker walks into the room, detecting the mood, places the glass of water on the coffee table, and comes to sit next to me. He says no words. A hand on my knee is everything I need. Silent comfort in its simplest form.
The heaviness in the room is suffocating. At some point, I stand and walk into the kitchen, not making eye contact with anyone. I push through the balcony door and feel a rush of cold air on my face. I accept it like a gift, reveling in the way it feels against my goose bumped skin.
I lean on the railing, observing the surroundings of the house. Everything once green is brown in the harsh environment. I’ve never felt more of a kinship with the outdoors than I do right now. My mind goes blank as I stare out at the horizon.
“What you just saw . . .” Marek’s voice surprises me. I jump and spin to see him leaning against the closed balcony door. He has a fluffy, gray blanket in his hands, opening it wide for me to walk into. Wh
en I don’t budge, he crosses to me and covers me. “It’s too cold out here.”
“It’s too cold in there,” I bite.
“Palmer.”
“I’m not threatened by what you two had.”
“Good, because there’s nothing to be threatened by.”
“Am I a bad person for wishing it was me you were rescuing?” I whisper the harshest, most fucked up thing I thought while watching them together.
“I’m no one’s knight in shining armor.” He runs his hands over the blanket, warming my arms as he covers me with his body. “And I’m not quite sure it’s possible for you to be a bad person.”
“Seeing you with her, comforting her, I didn’t know what to think.”
“Reed isn’t the person I believed her to be. That doesn’t mean I don’t want anything but happiness for her. I’m just not willing to be the person to give it to her.”
“Because of me,” I reiterate.
“No, because I’m not the same person anymore.”
“Because of me,” I repeat, twirling in his arms. He rests his hands on the railing, caging me in.
“Fine, sure, if you want to say it’s because of you, then yes. I’m not mad about it.”
“I don’t like to see her hurting, Marek. It broke me.”
Marek runs his fingers over the now-brown stain on my shirt. “This is going to sound ironic coming from my lips, but I don’t like seeing you hurt.”
“Not unless you’re the one inflicting it, right?” I laugh, hoping to lighten the mood. “Honestly, I’m fine. I can’t worry about myself, knowing she’s in that state of mind.” My eyes wander over his shoulder inside the house. She’s in there, plagued by her demons, and there’s no way for me to take it away.
“We’re going to get her help. Right now, she’s asleep in the guest room. Breaker gave her something to sedate her.” My eyes widen. “No, I promise, it won’t hurt her. It’ll help her sleep soundly, and in the morning, we’ll take her somewhere to get her clean.”