She sighs again, looking at her watch as she considers it. “Okay, but wait here until I check that the school has been fully cleared and everyone went home.”
I guess I must’ve blacked out for longer than I thought.
The tappity-tap of her retreating heels pierces through my skull, and I grab my head in my hands. The nurse hands me some pain pills and a small plastic cup of water. “I’d like to examine your injuries, if that’s okay. I want to ensure there’s nothing broken.” I nod, still not properly looking up at the guys. She shoos them outside to wait, and a shuddering breath works it’s wait through me. “There, that’s better,” she says, smiling softly at me. “There was way too much testosterone in the air for such a small room.”
I can’t even muster a smile at that. She gently helps me lift my sweater and shirt off, and I bite the inside of my mouth to keep from crying out. A dark expression crosses her features as she examines my back. A large purple bruise is already mushrooming on my stomach, and I spot similar markings on both sides of my body and one side of my ribs. She mutters quietly under her breath. “You’re sure you didn’t see who did this?” she asks.
“I’m sure.” I’m not lying, but even if I’d seen, I wouldn’t tell. Nothing good would come of that. “Why are you being nice to me?” I blurt, and she falters, peering strangely at me.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“Don’t you know who I am? Who I really am?”
“Ms. Ivers informed me. I know who you are, Ms. Simpson.”
“Then why don’t you hate me?” I eyeball her, genuinely curious.
“You’re not responsible for the actions of your brother,” she quietly states, and waterworks threaten.
It takes me a few moments to compose myself enough to speak. “That’s not how people usually see it in my experience.”
“Well, people are wrong.” Her eyes turn glassy, and I hate the look of pity on her face.
“Can I go now?” I bite out.
“Of course, honey.” She rummages in a cupboard, pulling out a few tubes and handing them to me. “Get someone to help you put that cream on twice a day. It’ll help you heal. And get one of those boys to drop by the pharmacy and pick up more pain medication. You’ll need it in the next few days.” She pats my hand as I struggle to my feet. “You mind yourself, Blaire.”
Her kindness almost undoes me. “Thank you,” I whisper, fighting tears again. I can’t remember the last time anyone showed me any compassion, and I’m not sure I’m equipped to handle the influx of related emotions.
The boys have furious expressions on their faces when I step out into the hallway. They are locked in some sort of battle of wills with the principal. They stop talking the minute they see me, but I’m too anxious to get the hell out of this place to care.
“You ready?” Heath asks, sliding his arm behind my back with care. I nod, still unable to look him in the eyes. I hate that they found out like that. Just as I’d plucked up the courage to fess up. I don’t know how they can bear to stand by me after this, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. I’m terrified of what lies in store outside the safety of the school building. Although I can fight, it’s of little use if I’m hugely outnumbered. Or if I tune out, like I did earlier.
“I don’t expect to see you in school until Monday,” the principal confirms, “and, rest assured, I will be conducting an investigation to identify the guilty party or parties.”
“And you know where to look first,” Heath cryptically says, pinning the principal with a look that would probably earn him detention at any other time.
“I haven’t forgotten, Mr. Gilchrist, but this is my school, and I will conduct this investigation in a professional manner, as I see fit.”
“Thanks.” Skeet shoots her an expansive smile. “We have full faith in your ability to unearth the culprits and administer the appropriate penalty.”
Spot the guy who lives with two attorneys. This time, a small smile breaks free on my face, but I hide it before the guys notice.
“You can leave now.” The principal’s tone is curt, and she’s clearly running out of patience.
We don’t talk as we make our way outside. The boys match my slow pace without argument, surrounding me protectively as we step out into the parking lot. I’m aware I’m shaking again when Heath pulls me closer, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. Tears sting the back of my eyes at his gesture.
“Aren’t twins supposed to share the same traits?” someone asks in a deliberately loud tone of voice from somewhere off to the left. I ignore the natural urge to look, to spew some retaliation, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Just keep moving, Blaire.
“It’s a proven scientific fact,” some other asshole agrees. Tension lingers in the space between me and the guys, but I forge on, determined to ignore the haters.
“Then we’ve all just been put on notice,” the first voice says.
A shadow darkens the path in front of us, halting our progress. “You’re a murderer just like your scum of a brother,” he growls as I lift my chin, facing my accuser. Heath keeps a vise grip around my shoulders. I don’t know this dude. He’s average height with cropped hair, menacing eyes, muscles stacked upon muscles, and he’s wearing a thunderous look that says he means business. He cracks his knuckles as he stares me down. “You shouldn’t have come here, and you’ll regret the day you did.”
“Back off Jenkins before I make you,” Axel snaps in a threatening tone.
Jenkins guffaws. “Your days as reigning champ are over, Thorp. I’m not scared of you.”
“You should be.” Axel steps up to him, and he’s a good two heads taller. He looks down his nose at Jenkins. “If you so much as look at Blaire funny, you’ll have us to deal with.”
“Why the fuck would you defend that psycho bitch?” some girl asks, pushing her way to the front of the small crowd. “Is she the reason you tossed me to the curb?” She sneers at me, looking up and down my body in a derogatory manner. “You clearly need your eyes examined as well as your brain.” She flicks her fingers at his forehead, and Skeet reaches across, taking her wrist and gently pushing her away.
“Fuck off, Shelly. He tossed you to the curb because you’re a skank who can’t keep her legs or her mouth closed. Blaire is worth a million of you.”
“Screw you, Skeet.” She flips him the bird before her eyes glint maliciously. Cocking her head to one side, she adds, “Oh, I already did.”
“And I still have nightmares about it,” Skeet coolly replies, moving closer to me.
“Shell.” Jenkins warning works and Shell slithers away like the poisonous viper she is.
“This is the only warning you’ll get,” Jenkins says, jabbing his finger in my face. I swat it away and steam practically billows from his ears. “Get the fuck out of our school and out of this town. Come back here, and we’ll show you what we do to murderous sluts.”
“She didn’t murder anyone!” Heath’s hands are balled into fists.
“She as good as did. What is it they say about twins? They’re two peas in a pod? She knew what that fucking asshole brother of hers had planned, and she did nothing to stop it. That means she’s as guilty as him.” A small chorus of approval swirls around him. I’d retaliate, but it’d do no good. They believe what they want to believe. They’ve no interest in the truth.
Axel steps up to Jenkins, ready to pound him into the ground if the expression on his face is any indication.
“Let it go, Ax. Trust me, there’s no point arguing.” His body is rigid and primed to attack. I reach out, touching his elbow. “Please. I just want to get out of here.” He takes a step back, reluctantly nodding.
“I meant what I said,” Axel adds as we prepare to walk away. “Anyone messes with Blaire, they mess with us. Pass the word around.”
“Fuck you, asshole.�
� Jenkins bridges the distance between them. “You’ve just declared war, and you’re already on the losing side. Don’t say I didn’t warn you either.” He stalks off, his motley crew trailing after him, making rude hand gestures and shouting insults at me as they go.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It’s deathly quiet in Heath’s SUV. Axel and Skeet are following us separately. “I was going to tell you,” I finally admit when I can’t take the ominous silence any longer.
He looks sideways at me for a moment, and the expression on his face is strained. “I know.”
Exhaling noisily, I look out the window, pulling my knees in tighter to my chest. My cell pings again, and I glance at it. I’ve hundreds of unread messages and texts. I don’t need to open them to know what they say. Clearly, someone shared my cell number, and now half the school wants to tell me what they think of me and my brother. Except this latest text is one I can’t ignore. It’s from Shaz, inquiring if I’m okay. I tap out a quick reply.
ME: Can you meet us at Axel’s house asap. I’ll explain everything.
SHAZNAY: I’m on my way.
When we arrive at Axel’s place, Skeet parks his truck at the curb while Axel pulls his bike up alongside Heath’s SUV in the driveway. Skeet is opening my door before I’ve had a chance to. He lifts me out, keeping hold of me as he pulls me into a strong embrace. “You hanging in there?”
“Just about,” I truthfully reply.
“We’re not going to let anyone hurt you.” Fierce determination shimmers in his eyes, but I know it’s not as simple as that. He takes my hand and leads me into the house. Axel and Heath head into the kitchen while Skeet guides me into the living room, pulling me down onto his lap on the couch. I rest my head on his shoulder, trying to siphon his warmth and his reassurance to help calm myself down. I’m in a strange half-dazed, half-terrorized state. “It’s okay, beautiful. It’s only us here.” He rubs his hands up and down my trembling arms. “Breathe, Blaire. Try to relax.”
“How are you okay with this?” I ask, staring into his eyes. “Why don’t you hate me?”
“The feelings I have for you are as far from hate as they can get.” He swipes his thumb under my eye, collecting the dampness there. “You’re not a bad person. We all know that.”
Footsteps thump down the stairs and my back stiffens. An older guy with Axel’s piercing gray-blue eyes enters the room, his eyes widening when he sees me. “Hey there.” His smile is welcoming but inquisitive.
“Hi,” I squeak, as Skeet tightens his hold on me.
“I’m Griff. Axel’s brother. Nice to meet you.”
“This is Blaire,” Skeet quickly explains, and Griff’s forehead puckers in confusion.
“Blaire?” He stares at Skeet. “But I thought she was dating my bro—”
“Griff,” Axel cuts in, suddenly appearing in the doorway behind his older brother. “Can we do this later?”
Griff looks over his shoulder at his brother. “Sure.” His pleasant smile is back when he turns around again. “Nice to meet you, Blaire. Maybe we’ll get to talk next time.” Then he walks out of the room, gesturing for Axel to follow him.
“I’m guessing Ax didn’t tell him the part where I’m also dating you and Heath.”
“I think he was working up to that,” Skeet admits with a low chuckle. “Now he’ll have no choice.”
Heath steps into the room carrying a mug and a plate. He sets them down on the coffee table in front of me. “Hot sweet tea and a grilled cheese sandwich.” He touches my cheek. “You should eat.”
“I honestly don’t think I can. My stomach’s in knots.”
The bell chimes, and Griff walks past the living room door with his jacket on. Sounds of muted conversation filter into the room, and then Shaz materializes in the doorway, followed by Axel carrying a tray with more drinks and sandwiches. Shaz hurries to my side, grabbing me off her brother’s lap into a mammoth hug. “Are you okay? How badly are you hurt?”
“You heard about that?” I shouldn’t be surprised this kind of news has traveled fast.
She winces. “There’s a video doing the rounds.”
“Of course, there is.” I squeeze my eyes shut, willing my body to calm down. “I can’t believe this is happening all over again.”
Heath and Axel take the two chairs across from us, exchanging looks as they sit down.
“They did this kind of shit to you in Amber Springs?” Shaz asks, disbelief clouding her face.
I nod. “They needed someone to blame, and my brother was dead, so …” I shrug.
“Do you feel up to telling us about it?” Heath asks, pinning solemn eyes on me.
“I was going to tell you.” My gaze bounces between all of them. “I swear. That’s why I asked if we could meet tonight.”
“We believe you.” Skeet slings his arm around me, squeezing my shoulder in a show of support.
I draw a deep breath and start into it. “Things were bad in Amber Springs, and we’d no choice but to leave. My parents made the decision to change our surname to Adams, my mother’s maiden name, to avoid recognition. They made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone about our real identities, but I felt so bad keeping it from all of you.” I knot my hands in my lap, sitting up a little straighter. “After today, I know I made the right call deciding to tell you the truth. Doesn’t mean I wasn’t terrified.”
“You thought we’d turn on you?” Axel asks, leaning his elbows on his knees.
“I hoped you wouldn’t, but people I’d known for years disowned me, and my boyfriend dumped me the day of the shooting. Cam was someone I’d known practically my whole life. If he reacted like that—”
“Then you had good reason to fear we’d react the same way,” Skeet says, completing my sentence.
“A little faith would’ve been nice,” Heath says, and there’s a slight edge to his voice.
Axel glares at him. “Your whole life has been nothing short of a picnic, so you don’t understand how secrets eat away at you and how fucking scary it is to let people in. Don’t you dare judge Blaire for protecting herself in the only way she knew how.”
Heath slams his coffee down on the table. “Don’t fucking patronize me. My life is not all rainbows and unicorns. I’ve my own shit to deal with, and I’m not unsympathetic.” A muscle clenches in his jaw before he forcibly calms down. He looks over at me. “I can’t even begin to understand what you must’ve gone through, and I don’t want to upset you anymore than you already are, but it hurts that you’d doubt us.”
“Ultimately, I didn’t, because I’d still decided to tell you even if a part of me was terrified you’d walk away.”
He nods, his eyes softening, and I muster my courage before continuing. “My brother, Ethan, was the best brother a girl could have, and he was my best friend. Above everyone else, he was always there for me.” I smile sadly. Shaz squeezes my hand, and Skeet presses a kiss to my hair. “Mom used to say we were the same soul, split in two different bodies.” I recall the memory with fondness. As kids, we used to think it was so cheesy, but as we matured, it made more sense to me. Gave even more meaning to the intense bond Ethan and I shared.
“We were virtually joined at the hip, and we did most everything together. As we grew older, it was often just the two of us at home because my parents both worked irregular shifts. Ethan was my whole world. He protected me and took care of me in so many ways.”
A stabbing pain infiltrates my chest, and I have to pause to draw a fresh breath. I look at everyone, and they’re all focused completely on me. “We had that weird phantom twin thing going on. I’d feel things when he’d feel them and vice versa.” I smile, brushing a tear away. “It never freaked us out. We loved having that connection.”
My smile fades as my mind meanders in the past. “Of course, it meant we rarely could keep any secrets from one another.” I hang my head, remem
bering the parts of the story I want to tell but can’t.
You can’t ever tell anyone, B. No one can know.
I return to that horrible morning, and the images are so vivid in my head that it’s as if I’m transported back to that time. “He locked me in my bedroom the morning of the shooting,” I whisper, struggling to keep my tears at bay. “And I think he did something to Cam’s truck to keep him away from school too.” Shaz hands me a tissue, and I dab at my eyes as Skeet pulls me over into his lap again. “He was acting weird, and he’d cooked me pancakes and eggs and bacon for breakfast, which he never did on a school day. I asked him what was wrong, but he deflected.” I sniffle, loudly blowing my nose. Shaz fishes in her purse, handing the whole tissue packet to me.
“It’s my biggest regret. I sensed something was wrong, and I should’ve pushed him harder. Should’ve made him tell me what was on his mind.”
“It probably wouldn’t have made any difference,” Skeet softly says. “If he was that determined to keep you out of it, nothing you said would’ve made him tell you.”
I nod, sniffling as I twist on his lap to look at his face. “The logical part of my brain agrees with you, but it doesn’t help offset the guilt.”
“Do you know why he did it?”
This is the hard part. “Not really,” I lie. “I mean, I’ve no idea why he woke up that morning and decided to steal my father’s hunting rifle and shoot those four boys and three girls dead, but I’ve an inkling as to why he targeted them.” I made a promise when we first moved here that I’d be as honest as I could be, and this is as far as I can go without breaking my promise to Ethan.
“They were all bullies and not very nice people.” I swallow the bile building in my mouth. “They’d bullied me for a while, and I guess Ethan just snapped. Not that it makes it okay,” I rush to reassure them. “My parents and I were, are, horrified over what he did. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t like any of them. It doesn’t matter how they treated me. None of that gave Ethan the right to take the law into his own hands. They didn’t deserve to die, and I still wake up every morning in a state of disbelief, because I can’t reconcile that version of Ethan with the Ethan I knew and loved.”
Surviving Amber Springs: A Stand-Alone Contemporary Romance Page 21