by Tijan
I froze. One of them recognized me.
“I hated her. She was such a bitch,” that same girl continued.
Relief, then irritation sparked in me. She’d been talking about me, but damn. I rolled my eyes at myself and kept going into the house. People were there because of me. I was going to hear my name more than that, but when I got inside, I was surprised at the almost demureness in the house. Like I saw from outside, the lights were off, but the crystal lights filled the room, giving it a cozy and homey feeling. Soft music streamed from the speakers so as I moved from room to room, people were talking in groups. They weren’t drinking from beer bongs or cheering for body shots.
I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and gazed at the kitchen. Bottles of wine lined the counters, along with fruit and cheese trays. People were munching off the table that had bowls of chips, crackers, and more meat and cheese trays.
“What did you think we would throw?”
I recognized that voice and whirled around, already smiling. Carolina stood behind me. Her eyes warm as she said, “My sorority knows how to do classy events. The wild and rowdy parties are reserved for next weekend.”
“Hey.” I couldn’t stop grinning.
“Hey, yourself.” Then she stepped in and gave me a hug.
It felt good. This was a friend, another friend. She wasn’t looking at me with judgment. She wasn’t yelling my name around to get attention. I sighed inwardly. I’d missed her.
“Looking good, Jeneve.”
I laughed softly, pulling away. “How’d you know it was me?”
“Raimler texted me, said to look for Zorro. I came down the stairs and here you are.” She shook her head, her eyes roaming all over me. “Shit, woman. I’ve missed you.”
“Ha! Aren’t you Greek royalty? Are you allowed to curse?”
She gave me the middle finger. “We can do that, too.” A group of people entered the kitchen, and Carolina moved around me. Grabbing two bottles of wine, she said, “Come on. Let’s go to my room where we can talk freely.”
“Perfect.” But I grabbed one of the cheese trays before following her up the stairs. When we got there, I didn’t waste any time. “Have you heard anything? What about Grace’s sorority?” My chest was tight.
Carolina was opening one of the wine bottles, but paused at my question. She shook her head. “What sorority?” She laughed softly to herself. Picking at her fingers, she added, “More than half of them transferred to a different school and different charters. The ones who are still here don’t do a thing. It’s like the entire sorority died with Grace. With what they did to you, then her murder, no one wanted anything to do with them. Whoever is left just goes to school and that’s it. They’re not invited to any party in the Greek system. It’s like they aren’t even here anymore.”
“That’s . . .” Karma? Ironic? Justified? I ended with, “Sad.”
“Yeah, well.” Carolina rolled her eyes. “I don’t mind.”
I looked at her.
She amended, holding her hands up in the air, “I’m sorry about Grace’s murder. I am, but I’m not about the house. They vandalized your house, then used her to get to you and made your friend be the one to shove you into that glass table. That’s cold. It’s karma.” She lifted a finger. “Not for Grace. She lost her way and got caught up. I believe that. I feel bad for what happened to her, but I’m not about the sorority. They hurt you, Sheldon. They deserved what happened.”
“Yeah, well.” Grace was still dead. That was all I cared about. “None of it matters anymore.”
“I know.” She frowned. “We’ve been asking questions, and no one knows anything.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you didn’t kill Grace. We all know that, and we’ve been asking questions, trying to see if anyone knows anything, but they don’t.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry.” She sat next to me on the bed and looked down at her hands. Folding them together on her lap, she pressed them between her legs. “I know that’s why you’re here, seeing if we know anything. That’s what Corrigan said, but I told him the same thing. There’s nothing on campus about you. There are lots of rumors and guesses, but that’s it. No one knows a thing.”
That was . . . extremely disappointing. I couldn’t lie to myself. I bit down on my lip and tried to swallow the disappointment. It was a hard pill to shove down. I murmured, “I see.”
“If it’s worth anything, people are changing their minds.”
“What do you mean?”
“After your impromptu press conference, people are starting to rethink things. More supporters are coming out for you. A lot of people still think you’re guilty, but you’ve got people believing in you.”
“Believing in me?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
I blinked a few times. No one believed in me. No one except Corrigan, Bryce, and Denton. Grace had believed in me, once upon a time.
She was gone.
Being with Carolina was harder than I expected. She brought memories back, memories of what she had already talked about. The sorority approaching me, wanting me, but getting Grace instead. She’d been so excited.
‘You're wrong, Sheldon. I like these girls. They like me. Is it really that big of a stretch for people to like me?’
She’d been so excited to be accepted, to be liked. That conversation was the first time she covered for them. She had lied to my face, saying she hadn’t noticed a thing when she had been the one who shoved me into that glass table, for them, because of them, to protect them.
Oh, Grace. I wish things had been different.
I drew in a breath. Feeling a tear, I could almost imagine her response. I smiled to myself, letting a second tear fall. She would’ve laughed at me. She would’ve said something about how things had to happen.
Never regret. Never forget. Only remember, learn, and keep jetting on.
That’s something she would’ve said.
God, Grace. I’m sorry.
“Sheldon?”
Carolina placed a hand on my arm, bringing me out of my thoughts. I jerked back, then smiled to cover myself. “Sorry. Sorry.” I shook my head, laughing at myself. “I feel like I’m being haunted by Grace half the time.”
Her eyebrows shot up.
I laughed again louder, as I stood up and ran my hands down my pants. “I’m not. I’m not crazy.” Seriously. I didn’t need to deal with that. “Don’t put me in an insane asylum. Jail was enough.”
She stood with me, still frowning. Her gaze roamed all over my face, studying me. Then she asked, quietly, “Are you okay? For real?”
I couldn’t answer. Not at first.
She asked that like Grace would’ve. With genuine concern. Without judgment. Like she actually cared.
Carolina had cared. She really did.
The fight left me for a moment. I hugged her, throwing my arms around her. Pulling her in, I squeezed her tightly. “Thank you.” There was so much to say, but I only said, “Just thank you.”
She hugged me, saying, “Thank you, too.” Her hand brushed down my hair to my back. “You’re going to be okay, Sheldon. You know that, right?”
I didn’t. She didn’t. I held her close anyway.
She tightened her hug too. “I mean it, Sheldon. You always survive. You’ll survive this. I have no doubts about it.”
Good. I blinked back more tears. That would make one of us.
There was a soft tap on the door, and it opened. Corrigan poked his head inside, an apology in his eyes, as he said, “Hey, uh, we were wondering if you ladies would join us downstairs?”
Carolina gripped the wine bottle harder, her eyebrows burrowed together. “Why?”
“Uh.” He glanced at me and I saw the stirring in his depths. He was concerned about me. I saw it right away, and I nodded, just a small nod. Instantly, he looked relieved, and his slight grin turned into a typical Corrigan cocky smirk. His head lifted and he stepped more fully into
the room. “Well, if you must know, it’s because I think Bryce might need some moral support.”
“Why?”
I bit back a smile. Carolina was acting like Corrigan was asking us to walk across fire. And judging by the grip she had on that wine bottle, I was guessing she wasn’t going to budge for anything.
Corrigan lifted an arm and leaned against the door. “Because we’re having a ‘Who’s Sexier?’ contest downstairs among all the guys. Bryce is going to get stomped. I mean, hello . . .” He gestured to himself. “He might be Mr. Big Stud Six Pack Abs Guy, and Denton might be Mr. Beautiful Movie Star, but the playing field’s all equal now. We’re all chicks tonight, and I don’t know if you’ve checked me out, but I’m some hot stuff tonight.”
“Are you?”
He pressed a finger and made a hissing sound. “Hear that? Sizzling, honey.”
Carolina’s scowl didn’t lift.
My mouth dipped down. I hadn’t expected that.
Corrigan sent me a pointed look and I read the silent plea for help. I nodded and stood from the bed.
Carolina asked me, “What are you doing?”
“Corrigan’s trying to be funny to cover it up, but he’s worried. He wants me to go downstairs so he and the rest of the guys can see me. They’ll be reassured I’m okay.”
“Oh.” The scowl vanished and she stood with me, taking both wine bottles with us. “Why didn’t you just say that in the first place?”
“Yeah.” I beamed up at him as I passed by, following Carolina out of the room. Patting him on the chest, I asked, “Why didn’t you just say that?”
Corrigan groaned, shutting the door behind us and bringing up the rear. He muttered under his breath, “Because I was trying to preserve my manhood.”
“Ha!” I threw him a grin over my shoulder, descending the stairs. “Your manhood’s intact, just not intact while you’re wearing that get-up.”
He glanced down at himself and stopped on the stair. “You have a point.”
“Come on, you two.” Carolina was at the end of the stairs. She turned the corner for the kitchen, leaving Corrigan and I still on the stairs. For a brief moment, it was just the two of us. The house was buzzing from conversation, laughter, and now I could hear good-natured shouts, but the stairs were encased between two walls. I got to the bottom and started to go around to the kitchen, but Corrigan grabbed my hand and pulled me back.
“What?”
He stared at me, not saying a word. A beat passed, and he still didn’t say a word.
“Corrigan?” I stepped closer to him, angling back so I could get a good view of his face. I saw the cloud of worry. It hadn’t disappeared upstairs. He had only masked it. “What’s wrong?” My hand started to lift upward to cup the side of his face, but my eyes widened as I realized what I was doing. I clasped my hands together in front of me, but my god, it would’ve felt so natural to touch him. Placed them on his chest, resting there.
Pushing that need down, my throat was suddenly tight. I rasped out, “Please talk.”
“Look.” His gaze lifted and traveled above my head. “I know you’re here, and you want to rip shit up to find who this guy is, but,” he paused, a soft sigh leaving him. “Can you not?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean—” He cursed under his breath and pressed one of his hands to his forehead. He grimaced as he continued, “I know it’s killing you, no pun intended, not to know who this guy is. I get it. I do, but I have a weird feeling. Nothing about this killer, stalker, whatever this asshole is, makes sense. Just . . . can you stay within viewing distance? I need to know you’re okay.”
“No one can recognize me.”
“I could.”
My eyes lifted to his, and I held my breath.
They had lowered so his gaze was pinned on me now. He had said those two words so softly and he repeated them again, “I see you, no matter what you’re wearing. So,” he took a deep breath, “just humor me? Shelve your need to tear ass and ruffle some feathers tonight. I’m not asking you not to do it. I’m asking for you to wait until Bryce or I are there so we can back you up, if you need it.”
Corrigan had never told me outright he loved me, but he didn’t need to, I felt it then and I couldn’t talk, not at first. After clearing my throat, I bobbed my head up and down in a motion I hoped was some form of a nod. Everything felt too much. The sounds from the party doubled in volume, my smell grew more sensitive, my sense of touch too. I was aware of how close he was standing to me, how he was still holding his breath, how he was watching me, waiting, how his green eyes looked so adorable. They were asking me to touch them, to touch him, and my hands lifted before I caught myself.
I touched the side of his face, and he became even more rigid. I felt zapped, but my touch had the same effect on him.
“Hey, guys . . .”
I closed my eyes. That was Bryce.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
“Oh, sorry.” He turned and left quickly.
“Shit.” My head fell forward to Corrigan’s chest.
His hands touched my hips, holding me for a moment. His fingers curved into my sides, then he murmured into my ear, “I’ll tell him what I asked you. He’ll understand.”
I felt his lips graze my forehead, the slightest touch.
Before he pulled away and left, he said, “Don’t worry.”
That was easier said than done, but after he went to find Bryce, I waited in the stairway for a minute. I needed to collect myself. I loved them both and I had to laugh at myself. The ordeal of being arrested and framed had pushed that to the side, but no longer. The love triangle had just slammed back into place, front and center.
Killer. I was here to find the fucking killer. That was my main mission.
Love triangle, move aside . . . for the moment.
As I went into the kitchen, I didn’t see Carolina or the guys so I moved through the crowd. They were at one side of the living room. A stage had been placed against the far side of the room, and Corrigan was talking to Bryce. Both of them were nodding, and when they were done, Bryce lifted his fist up. Corrigan met it with his, then both turned as one to the announcer.
Just like that, they were fine.
I shook my head. A twinge of envy started in me. I wished I could make things fine, just like that, with a quick fist bump.
Glancing around for Carolina, I couldn’t see her, but Mena was at the table, munching on the snacks. She seemed fine and content, but she wasn’t. I could tell that right away. As I watched her, she glanced over to the nearest group of girls beside her. A wistful expression appeared on her features and her lips dipped down for a brief moment. Then she would look down at the ground, her shoulders would rise and fall, and she’d grab another chip. It didn’t take a genius to know that she was lonely. She had no friends and she was staying at her brother’s house, where she wasn’t wanted by most of the guests. I felt for her. Mena had never really done anything to me. She just hadn’t earned Bryce or Corrigan’s trust and she faded away after that. Her mental illness took over, but she was back and the feelings of wanting to protect her were surging back up in me.
I was at the table before I realized I had even moved toward her. When she looked up, we were both shocked.
Her eyebrows lifted and she fell back a step. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” I frowned and raised a hand to make sure my mask was still in place. Wait—she shouldn’t have recognized me. Then I studied her again and saw the slight suspicion forming in her eyes. She hadn’t recognized me. I moved closer and said in a quiet tone, “It’s me.”
“Me?”
Ah, shit. I grinned. “Your favorite serial killer roommate.”
Understanding dawned and her eyebrows lifted again as she repeated, “Oh!” She ducked her head down and stepped over so our shoulders were almost touching. “What are you doing here? The guys would freak if they knew.”
I gestured to the stage. Denton was announc
ed as the Alpha Mu Mermaid. “You don’t recognize your own brother?”
She squinted at him for a moment, then cringed. “Are you kidding me?”
She sounded pissed. I hadn’t expected that from her.
“He gets all mad that I’m out and about and look at that. Hypocrite.” Cursing, Mena grabbed for another handful of chips. She shoved them in her mouth and continued to glare at the stage.
This really wasn’t a side of Mena I had ever seen before. “He’s having fun and helping me out.”
“Helping you?” Just like that, all her anger melted away and concern replaced it. “Are you okay?” She looked around. “Is the killer here? Is that why you’re here?” As she was talking, she grabbed a fork from the table. As her fingers closed around it, I reached forward.
“Okay. Whoa.” Taking it out of her hand, I shook my head. “No need for this.” After setting it far away, I added, “I don’t know, but I doubt whoever he is that he’ll do anything. I mean, look around. Plus, I’m not really recognizable.”
She seemed to relax, her shoulders drooping slightly. “Still. Stay with me if you’re not around the guys. You shouldn’t be alone.”
I was taken aback again. Mena sounded like she cared, like she was even protective of me. I whistled under my breath. “Let the guys see this side of you, and they’ll relax a little. If you’re Team Sheldon, that’s all they care about.”
“I was Team Sheldon before, remember? Bryce hated me.”
“Yeah. Well.” I shrugged. “Killing Marcus simmered him down. Going through that, it’s simmered us all down.”
My chest felt tight.
Bryce had said that before, that killing Marcus and going through that whole ordeal hadn’t been dealt with. He said I was running from it, and maybe I was. I didn’t know. I just knew the thought of remembering that day, as I pulled the trigger, was making my chest feel even tighter. Maybe he was right. Maybe I ran from him because I didn’t want a reminder of that time.
Maybe.
I ground my teeth together. Maybe not. I didn’t want to analyze it.
“You okay?”
I grew aware of Mena’s question. Her concern was still there, but it had multiplied. She was watching me intently.