by E. M. Snow
“I really do hate my father,” he confesses softly. “Really, truly, despise him.”
It’s a shocking thing to say, but it doesn’t necessarily surprise me.
“Why?” I make my voice gentle.
He looks out over the water as he speaks through gritted teeth. “I hate the way he conducts his business. He’s a cutthroat bastard, and he’s not different in his personal life. I also hate how oblivious my mom pretends to be about it all. So long as he keeps bringing in money, she doesn’t give a shit how it happens, or how unethically it was earned.”
“Has he always been like that?”
“No.” Saint shakes his head. “At least, not from what I’ve heard. When he was working with his old business partner, he was different. Better. He’d be nowhere if it wasn’t for Benjamin Jacoby.”
“As in Jacoby House?” I ask with a shift of my eyebrow, remembering that it’s the luxury girls dorm where Laurel lives.
“Yep. They were best friends in high school, and my dad latched onto his buddy’s success to make himself something … more. Something better than just an Angelle.”
For some reason, his words make me think of that old photo of his dad and friends in the trophy case back at the school. Something painful tugs at my gut, but I’m not certain what, or why I seem to care so much.
Still, I’m curious. “What happened to your dad’s business partner?”
There’s a strange look in Saint’s gaze that unnerves me. He seems distant, somehow, even though he’s standing right in front of me.
“He died. And then my dad got the whole company. Lucky him, right?”
His words are weighted with a heavy sorrow and resolve. I don’t know what to say to him to even begin to make him feel better. The silence that stretches between us is awkward as hell, and the longer it goes, the more clueless I am as to how to break it.
It’s Saint that eventually speaks first, but he asks me a question I’m not really prepared for. “Were you serious earlier? About your mom?”
My eyes widen and I’m momentarily paralyzed with panic. I consider denying it, saying it was just a way to make him feel bad, but that feels so wrong after his apology. With a sigh, I decide to tell him the truth, at least in part.
“Yeah, I was,” I murmur, though the truth about my mom is really only skimming the surface of my fucked-up life.
“Fuck,” he breaths. “I’m … I’m sorry, Mallory.”
I roll my eyes. “Please, don’t pretend you give a fuck about some drug dealer from Rayfort. I know you better than that, Saint.”
His expression turns thoughtful for a moment, and then he nods.
“You’re right, I don’t give a fuck about your mom.” He grabs me around the waist and yanks me toward him, making me gasp. “But you, on the other hand…”
My heart races as I stare up at him in disbelief. Those aren’t words you throw around casually with someone you’re sleeping with. Those are words you say when you actually care for someone.
Does Saint care for me?
“Saint, I—”
“Why don’t we go back inside and get shit-faced so we don’t have to think about our shit parents for a few hours?”
In that moment, that sounds like a fantastic idea, so I simply nod and allow him to lead me back up to his family’s house.
28
Saint and I spend the majority of fall break together at his family’s home having sex, getting drunk on his parents’ expensive booze, and talking. As great as the sex and booze parts are, it’s the talking part that I end up enjoying the most. We actually get to know each other in those few days together in a way I wouldn’t have dreamed possible. I’m careful about what I reveal, steering clear of the accident and James, but since he knows about my mom, I’m able to tell him more about my childhood. It’s such a relief to be able to open up to someone, at least partially, after going so long guarding my past with every ounce of strength I possess.
I almost regret having to return to school because that meant popping the little bubble Saint and I had built up around each other. I briefly worry that once we’re back on campus with the other students, he’ll somehow revert back to his old, horrible self. To my relief, he doesn’t do that, though there is some distance that grows between us. That’s more of a result of our conflicting schedules than anything, especially as I train for my first swim meet and begin preparing for finals before winter break.
He still comes to my room every night, or I go to his. I’ve noticed he’s grown somewhat quiet and seems distracted, but I don’t pry. If he wants me to know what’s wrong, he’ll tell me. I don’t want to do anything to upend the balance we’ve found with each other.
It’s feeling more and more like we’re in a relationship, and I’m not sure exactly how I feel about that. We’re spending nearly every night together, and he’s been eating multiple meals with me each day. It’s confusing, to say the least, and I need a little headspace just to sort out what I’m feeling and thinking.
When Loni invites me to a charity fight her dad’s participating in in Pomona, I eagerly accept, thinking an evening away from Saint would be good for clearing my head. Plus, no way in hell would I pass up the chance to watch an MMA fight in person.
Loni’s dad sends a car to the school to take us to the fight, and when we arrive, we have front row seats.
“Holy shit, Loni,” I murmur, gazing around and taking in the bright lights of the venue, which is packed full of spectators eager for the fights to begin. “This is fucking incredible.”
She grins. “Right? I always thought I’d get used to the craziness someday, but I never have. These events are madhouses, and they’re so fun.”
We settle in our seats, talking excitedly, letting ourselves be overwhelmed by the chaos around us.
All of a sudden, Loni looks over my shoulder and her eyes bug.
“Holy fuck,” she murmurs.
I frown. “What is it?”
I turn around to look before she answers me, and I freeze. Liam and Gabe are walking toward us, and their own gazes go wide when they spot me. I’m surprised to see Liam in a black t-shirt, his tattoos on full display, but of course we’re not on school grounds so he has no reason to hide them.
They come to a stop next to us, and it’s only then that I notice the two empty chairs next to me.
Oh, shit.
“Hey guys,” I say in a voice that is embarrassingly squeaky. “What’re you doing here?”
“Are you kidding? We wouldn’t miss this,” Gabe answers with a wide grin. “Fucking love MMA.”
“Yeah, big fans.” Liam nods, and I’m surprised by the lack of venom in his tone. We haven’t spoken since before fall break, so I was expecting icy silence at worst and sharp barbed speech at best. Right now, he sounds almost civil.
To my further shock, he settles into the seat directly next to mine. I glance back at Loni, but her attention has been snagged by an older man, I’m sure a friend or acquaintance of her dad. The unfortunate reality, though, is that I have no one to speak to in order to avoid talking to Liam. With a resigned sigh, I turn back to him, knowing I can’t simply ignore his presence. He’s looking at me with a half-smile, as if he knew I’d have no choice but to talk to him.
“Hey,” I say, feeling lame and unprepared for this confrontation.
“Hey,” he replies smoothly.
“How’ve you been?”
He shrugs. “I suppose fine. How’re you? Still getting a regular dicking from Saint?”
“Jesus Christ, Liam,” I growl. I’m not going to put up with his bullshit if this is what he’s going to talk to me about all night. I move to push to my feet, but he lays a hand on my arm to keep me seated.
“Hold on, I’m joking,” he blurts out, dipping his head slightly. “Sorry. I promise, I won’t be a dick. Just, don’t go.”
I settle back in my seat and glare at him. “Fine, but if you say one more thing like that to me, I’ll get Loni’s dad to kick your
ass. Got it?”
“Got it.” Lips quirking, he nods. “Look, Mallory, I owe you an apology for more than that comment. I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did to you and Saint hooking up. It’s your life, and you can do whatever you want with it.”
I’m suspicious of his apology, but I murmur, “I … appreciate that.”
He nods and opens his mouth to say more, but at that moment, the crowd erupts into a roar and I can’t hear a word. I shake my head to let him know I didn’t catch anything he just said. He leans in close, so his lips are right at my ear.
“I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into with him. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
He leans back and meets my gaze, and I can see that he really means what he’s saying. I can’t help the small smile that curls my lips, or the wave of relief that rushes through me. Knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear me over the noise of the crowd, I simply nod.
I won’t tell him, though, that I’m not certain I do know what I’m getting into with Saint, and that I’m beginning to fear that I’m not going to get out of it with my whole heart intact.
The next morning, I walk into the dining hall for breakfast, and can instantly tell that something is different. And by different, I mean very, very wrong.
As soon as I walk in the door, the glares and whispers start up. Before Saint and I were a thing, this would’ve been nothing out of the ordinary. However, after weeks of being treated with near reverence, it’s a little startling to be thrust back out into the cold with no warning.
I move through the dining hall, and the whispers grow in volume, and the glares more vicious. My brows sink together as I try to figure out what may have happened to cause the other students to turn on me again.
Loni suddenly appears in my path and hurries up to me, her eyes wide and expression tight.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Mallory!” she gasps, reaching me.
“What’s going on?” I ask, startled.
Before Loni can get a word out, however, a vicious voice snaps from behind me.
“Hey, slut. Have any good gangbangs lately?”
Releasing a deep breath through my nostrils, I clench my fists and slowly turn to face Laurel.
“What is it now, Bipolar Betty?” I snap. She’s clearly done being anything close to decent to me.
She’s smirking and looking so superior, I swear I can see her head swelling.
“Just couldn’t keep it in your pants, could you? Saint wasn’t enough for you?”
I’m totally lost, but I tilt my chin and give her a hard look. “What are you talking about?”
Laurel digs her phone out of her pocket and pulls something up on the screen. Turning it toward me, she jostles it in my face, showing me a photo. It’s from the night before. It’s of me and Liam.
He’s leaning over and whispering in my ear.
Oh. Oh, shit.
I only have one thought, and it has nothing to do with the assholes surrounding me, talking shit behind my back. I’m used to them and their crap. No, the only concern I have right now is for Saint because I know he’s going to be so pissed when he sees this.
“Fuck off, Laurel,” I say, turning from her, effectively dismissing her. I dig out my own phone from my pocket and shoot a text to Saint.
8:23 AM: There’s a picture floating around of me and Liam. You need to let me explain before you lose it.
Laurel is saying something to me, but I ignore her. She doesn’t matter now. No one matters in that moment but him. I wait for his response, my heart hammering in my chest.
“Are you listening, bitch?” Laurel barks at my ear.
I flinch away from her and face her with a snarl. “I said fuck off, what don’t you get about that?”
“You’ve fucked yourself, slut,” she hisses, ignoring my words. “Saint won’t protect you now. He’ll throw you out like trash because of this, or worse.”
Like I need her to tell me that.
“Laurel, you don’t seem to be getting it, so let me make this perfectly clear. I don’t give a fuck what you have to say. Go away.” I enunciate, just to grind home the fact that I think she’s an idiot.
Laurel’s nostrils flare, and when she speaks, it’s directed straight at me, “You’re about to crash hard, you uppity bitch, and I can’t wait to watch it happen.”
“Yeah, well, even if he does dump me, there’s no way in fuck he’s going to want you. His dad wants you two together, which means Saint can’t stand you.”
It’s a low blow, knowing their complicated history, but I have no patience for her and need to lash out. I need to hurt something to make my own anxiety calm down.
Her eyes widen and her face drains of color. I’ve hit my mark with deadly precision, I can tell.
She opens her mouth and closes it several times before she manages to growl, “You truly are a clueless slut.”
I shrug because I have no fucks to give about her opinion of me. “I learned from the best, baby girl.”
Her lip trembles, and she turns from me to storm away. I watch her completely flee the dining hall, and then glance back at Loni, who’s staring at me in shock.
A heartbeat of time passes in total silence before she begins to slow clap.
“That’s the most amazing thing I think I’ve ever seen,” she says with an awed shake of her head.
I chuckle under my breath, but I can’t give my friend my full attention. Glancing down at my phone, I see that Saint still hasn’t responded, and my stomach twists with dread.
By Monday morning, I’m a bundle of nerves. I never heard from him, and he didn’t show up to my room last night. When I went to his, he didn’t answer the door, no matter how hard I knocked. I didn’t sleep a wink, and instead was tossing and turning all night as a million different scenarios ran through my head of how this could play out between us.
Very few of those scenarios ended on a positive note.
As I walk into the dining hall again, I easily ignore the whispers and glares I receive as I scan the crowd for him. A mixture of relief and terror rushes through me when I spot him sitting alone at a table by the wall to my right. It’s unusual for him to have no one around, fawning over him, but I can guess by his thunderous expression that not many people are super willing to be near him right now. Taking a deep breath, I hurry over to him.
He meets my gaze as I near, and his glare is so icy, I physically shiver. I don’t stop, however, until I’m standing next to him.
“Hey,” I murmur. “I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday morning. Where’ve you been?”
Slowly, he unfurls himself from his chair and rises to his feet so he’s towering over me. He looks down at me as though disgusted by my very presence. “I don’t enjoy looking like a fool, Ellis. I figured you knew that about me by now.”
“It’s not what you think—”
“I don’t want your fucking excuses.” He pushes past me to prowl toward the door. I turn, intent on following him, when my phone pings.
Pulling it out, I see I have a text from Carley, and it’s entitled URGENT.
I glance up at Saint’s retreating back, but I can’t just ignore the message. It could be about Jenn, or the accident…
Reluctantly, I let him go and open the text.
Carley: Dylan stopped by the house last night!!! He was looking for you!
My chest and my stomach seem to crash together, and my problems with Saint are suddenly shoved to the background of my mind as something much worse rises up to take their place.
Dylan’s found me. He wasn’t supposed to be able to.
My past is starting to catch up to me, and I don’t know if I can outrun it this time.
29
My hands shake as I reread Carley’s message again and again. What does Dylan want? How did he track me to Carley’s house? Why? After James’ death, he’d told me he never wanted to see me again.
No, he’d called me a trashy whore, then revealed he never wanted t
o see me again.
I take several deep breaths as I try to rationalize my way through this. Just because he showed up at Carley’s house, doesn’t mean he knows I’m here. She’d never tell him, and it’s not like I’m afraid Dylan would do anything to hurt me. I’m just afraid of everything he knows about me. After a few moments of continuous breathing, the world stops spinning around me, and my hands stop shaking enough that I can respond to Carley’s text.
7:36 AM: I’m sure he just wanted to check on me. He was my favorite teacher in Rayfort, after all.
That’s the fucking understatement of the century, but I can’t let Carley know that. I can’t ever let her find out what really happened between me and Dylan. It’s yet one more terrible secret among what feels like hundreds, but this one might be the worst. I just have to pray if Dylan shows back up at Carley’s, he doesn’t tell her anything.
Tucking my phone back in my pocket, I scrub my hands over my face and groan. How’d everything get so fucked up so quickly? It was all going so well. Saint and I were leaving enemy territory far behind, Liam was thawing toward me, and the school as a collective wasn’t wishing I’d dissolve into a pile of Infinity War-esque dust. It felt as though someone had thrown a switch on in my life one day, making everything better, then flipped it again another day, making it all shit once more.
I need to get away from the judging gazes and buzzing whispers all around me so I can think straight. Ducking my head, I wind my way through the tables to get to the door, then hurry outside to make my way toward English. My mind is a riot, and my heart won’t stop racing. I can’t stop thinking of Dylan. A part of me thought I’d never hear from or see him again. I would’ve never thought he’d actually try to hunt me down like this. What if he does eventually find me?