But I’m the person to read this. I know it deep in my heart.
Piper’s soul needs to be put to rest, because I can’t have two ghosts rivaling for my thoughts, demanding justice on their graves.
29
I spend two days wondering how the investigation into Piper’s death is going.
On the outside, I’m the perfect student, paying attention in class, avoiding confrontation, and ignoring the sweeping accusations I hope fade as the gap of time between the shock of Piper’s fall and campus visits from the police get wider.
There hasn’t been a chance to get rid of Piper’s diary anonymously, so I use the time to read more. And yet … I can’t find anything suspicious. Piper goes on and on about how she hates her parents’ hounding or how annoying her sister is now that she’s in school with her. She also thinks Falyn’s getting too fat for crew. And Violet has an eating disorder. And Willow’s getting too involved with Mr. S—did they fuck without me knowing? Are they fucking with me? He will be so, so sorry if I find out it’s true. He’s mine, even when we’re not together. Even if our parents refuse our relationship. It’ll always be him, my Mr. S. Always.
It’s such drivel that I often have to shake myself awake to finish. So far, the sole intriguing entry is the last one. There are further graphic depictions of Mr. S and Piper’s sexcapades. I haven’t found much else about Mr. S, other than he could be Chase, and I’m halfway through her journal. I mean, maybe I could make the mental leap and think it’s Chase’s father because of the “Mister” part, but that would be crazy. And Willow sleeping with him, too?
Yeesh, wtf kind of erotic novel am I reading?
My thoughts are yanked away from the journal when Dr. Luke enters the classroom, his expression grim.
“I have some news, class,” he says.
The morning chatter falls silent as he leans forward on his desk.
“This morning, the official statement was announced. Barring further evidence, Piper’s fall was an accident.”
The quiet becomes a pause as we all process Dr. Luke’s statement.
Falyn speaks. “But … how? She’s been up there before. I mean—Piper knows the layout of Lover’s Leap.”
Snickers burst out from students with a tenuous relationship with Piper, but Dr. Luke silences them with a death glare.
“Miss Clemonte, I know you’re upset. You have the right to be. We all want answers, but it was especially dark that night with no moon,” Dr. Luke says. “There were too many scuff and shoe marks in the dirt. Ultimately, there was just no way for her to tell where the edge of the cliff was.”
“But what about her phone? Wouldn’t she be using her flashlight?” Falyn persists. Her eyes shine with desperation.
“I don’t believe she had her phone,” Dr. Luke says, his forehead wrinkling with thought.
“But why? She doesn’t go anywhere without it. Ever. Why was she up there alone?” Falyn’s voice hitches, and Violet moves to comfort her. “Why didn’t she go home?”
Any empathy I feel toward Falyn disappears when she turns and lasers into me. “In my opinion, the police haven’t done an adequate job. There’s at least one suspect in our midst.”
“Then you have my full support to take it up with Detective Haskins or read the statement yourself,” Dr. Luke says tiredly. “Now, this is a terrible subject for all of us, so let’s get lost in a little history before real life smacks us in the face again.”
Dr. Luke launches into the economic state of Rhode Island when Briarcliff was built, but the buzzing in my ears overtakes his voice.
Piper fell. It was an accident.
But the police don’t know about Mr. S.
Chase makes my paranoia worse. His silence on Piper’s death propels rumors faster, and I’m having to duck and weave in the hallways in order to avoid the glares and insults cast my way.
Even now, I study the back of his head as we both sit through history class, attempting to decipher through the effortless styling of his hair why his face sports a shiner this morning and his knuckles are cut and clotted over with blood.
“Don’t forget, your essays are due Monday morning,” Dr. Luke says as he concludes the class. “Just because you’re my favorite students ever doesn’t mean I’ll give any of you extensions.”
Doting sarcasm fills his voice, and I offer up a smile along with some other students as we pack up our things.
“Callie.”
The tone doesn’t match Dr. Luke’s and I glance up from my bag. Chase stands in front of me.
His face is flawless, save for the purple-red crescent under his left eye. A cut mars his lower lip, and there are fingerprints on his neck, scarlet marks that frame his jugular.
After a quick hitch of breath, I deploy the most annoyed eye-roll I have.
“Let me guess,” I say. “I should see the other guy?”
Chase’s brows flatline and his expression follows a similar iced-over state. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself over.”
“Oh, don’t mistake this for concern.” I trace a circle around my face. “Color me shocked that you’re talking to me in public.”
Chase arches a dark blond brow, a wisp of amusement drifting through his dark cloud. “Only because I have to.”
I toss my bag over my shoulder, and it lands against my back with a thump. I’m conscious of what’s in it. “And why have you deemed it so important?”
“Did you find out anything?”
His question is direct, biting in its cadence.
I swallow but refuse to shrink under his focus. “About what, Chase? If you’re here to accuse me along with the rest of the student body, get a clue. Detective Haskins hasn’t spoken to me since, meaning I’m not on his hit list, so why should I be on yours?”
Now, both Chase's brows rise. “Easy. Because I want you to be.”
My lips flutter with an exasperated huff.
“I’m watching you, Callie. You keep anything from me, I’ll catch it. And I won’t take it to the cops. I’ll use it for my own weapon.”
“You heard the latest. Stop being such a creep,” I say, and move to get past him.
His arm blocks my way, pressing into my stomach … and dangerously close to the underside of my breasts. An astonishing sensation happens around my nipples, and I glance down, horrified, but cover it up fast with a sound of disgust.
“I asked you a question,” Chase repeats. “Did you find out anything about Rose Briar?”
A wave of relief passes through me at the mention of Rose. Chase doesn’t know about the diary, or my suspicion that Mr. S is him. I push on Chase’s arm, but it doesn’t move. When he speaks to me, his bruised profile comes all too close to my cheek. A simple turn, a quick dip, and he could be kissing me.
No, Chase wouldn’t kiss. He’d ravage.
Mr. S uses his tongue like a man, possessive and strong. When he strokes my mouth, I moan…
My molars clench, a painful warning to my brain to stop this bizarre fantasy.
I meet his eyes. A millisecond of movement separates our mouths, but Chase isn’t fucking around.
I’m aware of my surroundings and notice the classroom has emptied, including Dr. Luke. Chase has me alone.
I don’t back down, and I do not, under any circumstances, let a hint of what I know pass over my features. “If you’re asking if I completed my paper, yeah, I did.”
“Good for you. I hope you get an A. Now tell me what I want to know.”
Under his intense scrutiny, I falter, just a little. “There’s a ton of information on Briarcliff’s founders. You did Theodore Briar, right? A nod to the odd man out?”
Chase’s eyes shrink into slits. “Don’t change the subject. It makes me want to pursue this harder.”
“Read between the lines, Chase. I could research tons on the men. But Rose? I found zilch,” I lie. “Enough to write a basic essay. If Piper knew anything, it’d be in her notes, which are on her laptop, which her family now has.” I attempt to push
past him again. “So why don’t you go intimidate Addisyn?”
This time, Chase backs up a step. And his expression is oddly flat. “That’s too bad.”
“Too bad?” I echo. “I’m so sorry my research into Briarcliff’s catacombs wasn’t acceptable for you, Master Scholar.”
“Not even close. There’s a reason Piper wanted to be at the cliff on the same date Rose Briar disappeared. You’re the one who pointed it out to me. But now you find nothing? I guess your usefulness ends there. I’ll do the rest of the heavy-lifting.”
“Oh, fuck you, Chase! I’m invested in this, but you of all people can’t blame me for not knowing who to trust.”
He pauses in the doorway, his shoulders leveling. “My, my, Callie, are you saying you don’t trust me?” Chase lays a mocking hand on his heart. “I am shooketh.”
“The official statement’s out. It was an accident to everyone except you and me. So, unless you stayed at Lover’s Leap with her that night, or, my bad, Fuckboy’s Leap—”
Chase stiffens. When his eyes find mine again, they blaze copper fire. “I’d be careful choosing your next response. Accuse me again, and I’ll have you tossed off this campus so fast, you’ll lose the granny panties currently cupping your ass.”
“Joke’s on you,” I snipe before thinking. “Because I prefer thongs.”
Chase's eyelids flare. Heat snakes into my core, coiling its scales. My response to him is frightening, venomous … and daring.
I hold a silent breath.
The urge is so sudden and there, that I’m desperate to think of something else. To get back to Piper and the mystery behind her fall. To do anything but meander into Chase’s clutches.
Chase’s focus dips to my skirt, as if he can see the building dampness in my panties. I’m desperate to cross my ankles, but that would accelerate the swelling need, so I clench my hands instead, so hard my nails dig crescents into my skin.
Ire builds in my belly, and wars with this unspeakable craving for Chase. Sheer exhaustion weighs heavy on my expression each time I leave my dorm, because to the rest of the school, theories, rumors, and gossip are easier than checking the facts. Hurled insults contain the satisfaction needed.
Cap all this off with Chase’s weird and cold dismissal and his refusal to help despite our private talks, always after he seeks me out, it’s natural that enraged stupidity spirals its way into my throat.
“I know enough, Mr. S,” I say.
Chase’s attention comes back to my face. Any passion I ignited disappears with that single flick. “Excuse me?”
“Mr. S,” I repeat shakily.
His expression smooths. “Maybe I was wrong about you. Keep your head in your books. You’re better at that than any Nancy Drew bullshit you’re attempting.”
My hands unclench as I watch him leave, my arms trembling with the effort. Chase manages to get under my skin by uttering a simple syllable, and I hate how I can’t manage the same effect on him.
Maybe I shouldn’t have shown my cards so soon and called him by Piper’s secret name. Or perhaps I damn well should’ve, because I need something other than casual coolness from this bastard.
If that flicker of flame in his eyes at the mention of my underwear is anything to go by, perhaps I’m getting there.
Which means, I must identify why it was so crucial to Piper that sex with him had to remain under wraps this time around.
30
That evening, Ivy comes over to study for our English Lit quarter-term exam.
Yup. Quarter-term grades are a thing here.
We’re sprawled at either end of my twin bed, our textbooks and laptops between us as Ivy quizzes me on Pride and Prejudice, and I resist the temptation to relate the assignment to its modern twist, Pride and Prejudice with Zombies.
“I doubt Professor Parker will appreciate your addition of the apocalypse to a literary classic,” Ivy observes as she flips a page.
“Hey, I can’t take credit for that kind of originality, but it’s unfortunate Parker won’t widen his horizons.” I stick my pen between my lips as I type out notes on my computer.
“Any other potential questions you can think of? I gotta leave in like…” Ivy checks her watch. “Ten minutes.”
“Really?” I pull my computer onto my crossed legs, settling back against the wall. “Where are you off to so late?” I let out a mock gasp. “Are you meeting a paramour, Elizabeth Bennet?”
Ivy laughs, but there’s a hesitant pitch to it. “I wish. I promised Eden I’d go over chemistry with her tonight, too.”
“Jeez. That’s adding some contrast to the night.”
“I gotta keep the scholarship alive,” she says airily, then runs a hand through her hair. “Unlike many of the privileged douches here, if my GPA drops below a three-point-seven, I’m out on my ass.”
Accuse me again, and I’ll have you tossed off this campus so fast, you’ll lose the granny panties currently cupping your ass…
I wriggle against my mattress, static electricity raising the hair on my arm at the thought of Chase picturing me in the thong I’d told him I preferred.
“Might as well give the privileged douches a name,” I say to Ivy, internally begging this extra energy to go to anyone but Chase. “You call them the Nobles.”
Ivy’s pen stops scratching against her spiral notebook. She doesn’t look up.
“Right?” I prompt.
“Not this again,” she says.
“You tried to get me to forget about it with that global bullshit, but Ivy, you told me about them on the night my entire scholastic future was written on the wall. In garbage.”
“Yeah…” Ivy collects her white-blond hair at the nape of her neck, twists it, then lets it fall. “I realize that was a lame cover-up, but is there any way you can pretend I never told you that?”
I angle my head. “You want me to shut up.”
Ivy raises her chin, pleading. I hold up my hand. “You’re doing a much better job of it than Chase did, basically threatening to have my head if I ever uttered the name again.”
Ivy hisses in a breath, and I swear, color leeches from her face in less than a second. “You told Chase?”
“It’s not like you told me to stay quiet!” I defend. “Not then, anyway.”
“Oh my God, Callie.” Ivy covers her face with her hands. “Why?”
“Why not?” I push my laptop off my legs and slide closer. “I’m so tired of this game where I toss out an innocuous word and the person I’m talking to flips out. Can someone please be straight with me? As my friend? Explain to me why the Nobles send Chase into a rage and you into a tizzy.” I slide a look to the opposite end of the dorm. “And while we’re at it, do they have something to do with Piper?”
Ivy doesn’t hesitate. “No.” She follows my gaze. “Doesn’t it freak you out? Living in a place Piper used to make her home? It’s so lifeless out there now…”
“It is,” I admit. “Which is why, tomorrow morning, I’m going into town and grabbing a few things to make this space my own. Marron says that barring any new students, there won’t be anyone filling up her side of the room, so…”
Ivy tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s just you? From now on?”
“I’m not sure how I feel about it, but—hey! Don’t change the subject on me!”
Ivy offers a sheepish smile, but color hasn’t returned to her cheeks. “A girl had to try.”
“Tell me.” I lean forward. “Give me something, Ivy, or I’m going to annoy it out of you every minute of every hour, I swear I will.”
Ivy sighs, her attention straying to my doorway. “I can trust you, right?”
I grab her hand, and it’s cold and clammy in my grip. I squeeze, letting her know that she can.
“Then you can trust me. Don’t go to Chase,” she says. My hold goes slack. “Drop it, Callie.”
I lean back, releasing her hand as a signal that I’ll listen to her. For now. Tomorrow morning brings its own str
essful complications, so I can leave the subject of the Nobles for later.
“Fine,” I mutter. “I won’t talk to Chase about it.”
“Good. Thanks for the study sesh,” she says, and her smile isn’t as tight. “I’ll see you tomorrow? Maybe I’ll join you on this field trip you have in mind.”
“I’ll text you.”
“Sounds great,” she calls as she exits my room, color back in her cheeks and a skip to her step.
As soon as my dorm room door shuts with a click, I rifle through my nightstand, pull out Piper’s diary, and hold it up.
I glare at it.
“What the hell is the point of a secret diary if you don’t write down any of your secrets, Piper!”
31
The following morning dawns with a dreary rolling fog across Briarcliff’s picturesque lawn. It’s Saturday, which means I should be sleeping in, but I can’t get comfortable enough to fall back asleep.
Rereading Piper’s diary wasn’t the best bedtime storybook before crashing, fully clothed, on my bed. She invaded my dreams, visions of Piper dressed in a nineteenth century ivory nightgown running toward Lover’s Leap. Chase ran after her, screaming for Piper to take his hand, until at last, with Piper’s long, brunette hair cascading behind her, she takes the leap, without hesitation.
Without looking back.
Trailing behind her, where her footsteps should’ve been, are black and white roses.
My stomach rumbles when I sit up. Rubbing it, I convince myself it’s because of the lack of food in my dorm and not two tragedies intertwining into a sleepless nightmare.
I peel off yesterday’s uniform and pad into the bathroom naked, keeping my shower brief, and I decide against eating breakfast in the dining hall. On weekends, seniors are allowed to leave campus, and I can’t believe it’s taken me close to a month to step away from this cursed school.
A quick blow-dry and make-up application later, I choose basic straight-legged jeans and my mom’s college tee. I hug myself once the soft cotton hits my chest, the familiar feel realigning my heart for the time being.
Rival (Briarcliff Secret Society Series Book 1) Page 16