by S. K. Kelley
“Maybe...”
Will that work?
Glancing down, I bite my lip.
Ice didn’t seem to mind when I first mentioned wanting to head home after the storm blew over, but he did kiss me to keep me from leaving the last time I considered it. What if he gets suspicious? What if I say the wrong thing? What if he doesn’t want me to leave right away for some reason?
Night said he’s scared of losing me.
What does that even mean?
James sighs. “Just... Whatever you do, you better not tell him I’m the friend parked out here.”
“Well, obviously.”
“I’m serious,” he says. “Don’t even let him leave the hallway. If he sees me, or my car, it’s over. I will take off without you.”
That’s fine. I wouldn’t expect anything else.
“Are you sure you don’t want to just drop me off and go?”
He stares at me with a strange murkiness. “I’m already here, aren’t I? I can take you home.”
Fine.
James pulls forward until we’re stopped in front of the Monroe family home. I fumble with the manual crank to roll the window down, and I stare out into the light rain.
The house is so normal—just a normal house on a quiet street in an expensive gated community.
Night’s blue sedan isn’t parked out front, and the awareness of being in James’ car where hers usually sits bothers me. I hope it’s in the garage.
No.
Stop thinking like that.
I shouldn’t be nervous. I have nothing to worry about. Night told me I’d always be welcome here, and Ice is my friend. I trust him. But a voice echoes in the back of my head:
What if he’s home alone?
What if it’s just the two of you?
A shiver runs down my spine.
The image of blood dripping from my fingers. The sharp crack of shattering glass. I can’t escape the barrage of awful images from my nightmare. And, suddenly, I do not want to step foot inside that house.
This is ridiculous.
I spent a lot of time with Ice this summer, just the two of us. It never mattered whether we were in public or at his house or my cottage, I never once felt unsafe while I was with him.
But now... After sitting in James’ car for so long, watching the house through the window, my apprehension only grows.
I’m second-guessing myself. I’m overthinking it.
I hate feeling this way, but I’m not convinced he trusts me anymore—assuming he trusted me to begin with. The cool undertones in his voice when we spoke last night shook my faith a little.
Did he realize I was lying?
Is he inside, waiting for me to show up? Is he planning to call me out? Ask where I went sneaking off to yesterday? Is he upset? Angry?
Stop.
Ice couldn’t possibly know where I’ve been or that it had anything to do with James. Though, if he did...
Ugh. Calm down.
“Don’t worry,” James says, failing to sound at all reassuring. “I’ll be right out here, ready to take off when you are.”
I nod. Okay, I can do this. I unbuckle my seatbelt, give myself no choice but to return by shoving my purse and damp jacket underneath the passenger seat, and open the door.
“Thanks for the ride. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
My hand pushes the door shut, but I don’t move from the curb. The soft, cool rain raises goosebumps on my arms. James watches me through the open window. He still looks wildly nervous, but he offers me a thumbs-up.
I force a smile. Then I turn away and steel myself for the walk up to the front door. Water splashes beneath my boots. The house looms before me. My hand touches the doorknob.
It’s locked.
Huh.
If Ice is expecting me, why would he lock the front door? I mean, they rarely lock the doors even at night, but it’s almost 8AM. There’s no reason for the door to be locked. Unless—
Is anyone home?
I raise a hand to knock but drop it before my knuckles contact the door. No. Wait— I take the candy-striped house key out of my wallet’s coin pocket.
Night’s timing was a coincidence, right?
Shaking my head, I unlock the ornate front door. I return the key to my wallet, step through the door, and scan the great room.
I’m alone.
The lights are off. I hear no voices. No TV sounds from the den. No muffled music emanating from Smoke’s bedroom. There’s only the soft hum of the central AC and the gentle rain falling on the pavement behind me.
I close the door and glance out the bay window.
James’ conspicuously dirty, off-white car idles on the curb outside. He’s leaned against the steering wheel and watching the house through the rolled-down passenger window.
Alright. Here I go.
I turn away and venture further into the house. The air smells faintly of lemon as I cross into the den. Without the thick blackout curtain covering it, the sliding glass door floods the empty room with light.
I catch my reflection in the mirror. Ugh. I let my hair down and run my fingers through it to work out the worst of the tangles.
Then I glance at Smoke’s bedroom door. Is he asleep? I hate to think he might be gone. If he is, Night’s probably out too. He’s never left the house without his sister in all the time I stayed here.
Great.
It’s early, though, and it’s still raining.
As I peer down the dimly lit hallway, I find myself hoping Ice is out with the twins. Maybe they went somewhere for breakfast. If he felt more energetic this morning, Night could have talked him into it. It’s possible.
Unlikely, but possible.
I flip the hall light on to lift the darkness, but I still pause in front of the bedroom door. Sharp, blue eyes on a placid face. My breath catches, my hand hovering over the doorknob.
Are you here? Are you awake?
Why am I so nervous?
He can’t be nearly as bad as James thinks. I don’t believe it.
Sure, Ice hurt him, but it was an overreaction. He was pissed. He got carried away, took it too far, and said some stupid things to someone he was desperate to hurt. James told me that Ice likes to talk shit. That’s all it was. James shouldn’t have been here in the first place.
But Ice was so calm after, with cool hatred smoldering in his eyes, and he asked me to pretend it never happened. He wants to ignore everything that makes him look bad.
Am I imagining things in hindsight? Misremembering details?
Considering how flustered I was after he kissed me, and the shock of seeing James, maybe I... Maybe talking to James only made things worse? Maybe I’m confused.
Just open the door.
My fingers brush the doorknob, and a familiar anxiety crashes over me. The sensation of being watched. A weight pressing on my chest. The feeling that something isn’t quite right.
A pulse of searing pain, and a flash of white light. Drowning in hot, sticky blood as it fills my lungs. Wide, amber eyes. James’ pale face, silently calling out.
Ice behind me.
No. Stop— I hold my head with my free hand, desperate to banish the unwelcome images.
Ice is my friend. I’m only leaving because I told Rose I would go home after the storm ended. Well, the storm is over. The rain will clear soon. And I know now that James is more pathetic than dangerous, so it’s time to leave. I have no more excuses to stay here and keep worrying Rose.
That’s it.
Isn’t that it?
Ugh. I’m such a child.
Thoroughly fed up with myself, I turn the knob and push the door open. But I freeze in the doorway.
“Hey. Where were you last night?”
“Uh—”
From where he sits at the desk, Ice’s posture appears casual, but his expression is unreadable. Maybe a little cold. Maybe a little guarded. The ceiling light is off, but the curtains are drawn open, and bright blue eyes bore into me from
halfway across the room, full of questions.
You’re imagining things, Jayde.
He’s irritated because of the rain and annoyed that I up and vanished for a day. That’s understandable, right? Anything else is James’ anxiety rubbing off on me. I’m jumping to conclusions and seeing things that aren’t there because of what he told me. Because I can’t stop wondering what face Ice made when he hurt James and said those things about me.
Right?
Not that it matters.
I’m too nervous to say much of anything, let alone come up with a convincing lie on the spot. I can barely meet his gaze for more than an instant.
“Where were you?” he asks again.
“Oh, um, I was at a friend’s house. Like I said on the phone?”
“A friend’s house,” he says. “Right.”
My duffel bag is right there—
Ice studies me carefully. Curious. Alert. No longer under the spell of storm-induced lethargy. His focus pauses near my feet, and my heart stops.
My boots, and the ankles of my jeans, are still stained by mud.
How could I forget something so obvious?
I told him I took the bus into town—which is partially true—but anyone with functional eyeballs and any sense could tell I spent more than a reasonable length of time trekking through the rain.
Shit.
This was stupid. This whole plan was stupid. But I already lied. I set myself up for this. I walked right into it. And James is outside, sitting in his car. With my purse! I should have brought my stuff in and told him to leave without me. I shouldn’t have stayed the night at the manor. I—
What should I do?
Forcing my panic down, I expand upon my original story. A friend I met at RCC. We went to a few parties with Rose during the school year. Someone who just got back into town a couple days ago and was looking for someone to hang out with. I was bored, I saw her post on FaceSpace, and I thought it would be fun. Blah, blah, blah.
Ice listens for a minute before he raises a hand to stop me.
“Jayde, please.”
He stands from his chair, sending my nervous heart into a frenzy. My eyes dart around the room, keeping track of him. And the exact location of my bag. And the empty den at the end of the hallway.
“I, uh—”
Forget my stuff. Forget the truth.
I want to get the hell out of here now, but I can’t seem to move anymore. My feet are glued to the floor. My body suddenly weighs a million pounds. And Ice closes the distance between us.
He looks down on me, standing only a foot away.
Why am I so afraid?
I need to stop thinking about what James said. I need to stop thinking about the fear in his eyes or the scabs and bruises on his face or the dried blood on the underside of his pillow.
You’re freaking yourself out.
Stop. Thinking.
Ice flashes an easy smile—one I’ve seen many times. “What do you say we forget yesterday, and you come inside?”
Forget? No.
I shake my head. The pit in my stomach grows, and bitter bile rises in my throat, but I can’t ignore it.
I can’t ignore any of this anymore.
The thin, uncomfortable smile that doesn’t quite touch his cold, sharp eyes. The weight of James’ guilt when he told me what Ice said. Knuckles oozing fresh blood. A cool voice betraying anger. The blank look in his eyes the first time he asked me to forget.
Even if I wanted to—even though part of me still wishes I could—I cannot forget what I’ve seen and heard. I cannot pretend that none of it happened. I’m done pretending.
So, what should I do now?
Who should I believe?
Who can I trust?
“I—” I take a step back, laughing nervously. “Can I just...grab my bag real fast?”
“You want to leave now?”
Surprise flashes across his face. Then, like the flip of a switch, his expression chills. Narrowed eyes glance away, and he frowns. Smiling again, not even a half a second later, his eyes flick up to meet mine.
He laughs—the sound soft and low. “Goddamn it, Jayde. Why would you do this to me?”
“Do what?” I ask, my mouth dry.
I take another step, but he keeps pace.
“What did he say to you?”
“Who?” I squeak.
My chest tightens again. A flash of unexpected panic in wide, blue eyes. A strong hand grabbing me by the wrist. Something that really happened. Something that wasn’t a dream.
But how does he know?
Doesn’t matter. I need to get out of here.
I tear my eyes from his stifling gaze. I look down the hall, into the den. Could I make it? If I ran, could I make it outside? To the front door? To the bay window?
If James saw me before he saw Ice, maybe—
“Don’t mess with me,” he says, a hard edge to his otherwise level voice. “I know you met with James behind my back, but I’m willing to overlook it and give you another chance.”
I look back at him by mistake, and I don’t like what I see. Head tipped. A soft smile. Vacant eyes. It’s upsetting and familiar, but...worse, somehow.
“You trust me, right?” he asks.
I did. I really did, but—
I take another step back. He matches it.
“You fell in love with me, right?”
What should I do?
What can I do?
I should have realized—
I should have never come back here.
Ice holds out a hand, offering it to me, his mild expression a mockery of kindness. “So, Jayde, what do you say? I can pretend you never saw James if you can forget everything he told you.”
What James...told me?
What does he think James told me? What did he think James told me before—on the Fourth of July when he asked the same question with even more alarm in his eyes?
What the hell does James know about Ice?
A heavy chill washes over me. A sense of tragic understanding. A deep, gnawing anxiety. Fear. And I know I need to find a way out of here. I can’t stay with Ice another second.
I shake my head, drawing my hands close to my chest.
“No,” I say. The words waver. “I told Rose I would go home. I just want to go home.”
His smile vanishes. Frustration replaces it. His eyes burn with a desperate savagery. He plants his hands on my shoulders, and I freeze under the weight of them.
“Why would you go to him now?” he asks, his voice rising. “What did that pathetic little shit say about me?”
My heart pounds in my aching chest.
Surely, he’s close enough to hear it.
I want to turn away—to run away—but I can’t. I’m frozen in place and locked into eye contact, painfully aware of our proximity. His firm touch. Short nails digging into my shoulders through my thin sleeves.
“You’re scaring me,” I say.
“I scare you? Oh.”
His expression is wiped blank. The anger fades from his eyes, and the line of his mouth softens. He looks...tired. Then his hands slide down my arms, his warm fingers brushing my elbows before they finally fall away.
I bite the inside of my cheek, fighting the moisture that collects in my eyes.
“You don’t have to answer,” he says. “There’s no point. You’re just like James. He can’t lie when he’s scared either, and I don’t particularly care to hear you try again. It was depressing.”
“Can I go now?”
Stop talking. Please stop talking.
“Go now? Wait— No way. Did he come with you?” A wicked grin splits his face, crinkling the corners of his wide eyes. “Don’t you dare tell me that James Reid is outside my house right now.”
I say nothing, but I finally manage to avert my gaze.
“Holy shit, Jayde.” He laughs, a bitter sound, and massages the pale, pink scars on his knuckles. “How stupid can he be—coming here now? Do you know
what I said to him? Do you have any idea what he looked like when I let him run away?”
That’s enough. I don’t care what you have to say anymore. I don’t want to hear another word. I can’t...
I glance over my shoulder. A single backward step will leave me trapped between Ice and the wall.
So, how can I escape?
He sneers down at me as he speaks, but he’s not distracted. I can tell he’s watching me like a hawk, taking in my every movement. Following my aside glances. What my hand is doing. The subtle shifting of my weight. Everything.
Even so, I look toward the den again.
I don’t think I can make it.
How could I outrun him when James didn’t stand a chance with a decent head start? But my body begs me to try. My pounding heart. Panicked lungs. Tense muscles. With every ounce of my being, I want to run, and this is my last chance.
One more step, and my back will touch the wall. Only one step.
But I can’t.
He’s too fast.
“It’s sad,” he says, and it sounds like he means it. “I gave you a choice. I didn’t have to do that, you know, and you still chose wrong. After everything I’ve done for you—”
The slightest movement in the corner of my eye sets me off, and I lose it. My body leaps into action, turning. I try to push past him and run for the den.
He stops me as I take my first step.
A hand catches me by the arm. A momentary crushing pain, his grip far too tight. He drags me back, and my shoulder hits the wall. Hard.
I cry out. He leans in close to shush me.
“You’re fine,” he says with an easy laugh. “We don’t want your new friend to think you’re in trouble, do we?”
Am I not in trouble right now?
I bite my cheek, my hands balled into fists.
But I can’t do anything.
With one hand wrapped around my wrist and the other planted on the wall, Ice has me pinned. I can’t get away. If I tried, I’d only hurt myself. I’m trapped, locked in tense eye contact with the most dangerous person I’ve ever met.
Mischievous eyes. A wide smirk. Relaxed posture.
He’s in control, and he knows it.
I could call for help, but—
He glances aside. “Considering this most recent development, I am certainly not bored with you, Jayde. Yes, you’ve turned out to be more of a nuisance than I anticipated—what with James’ unexpected involvement and all—but it’s interesting all the same. And, you see...” He pauses, and his expression softens as his eyes meet mine again. “I rather like you.”