Malice

Glancing up, I meet Saint’s narrowed blue-gray gaze.

“What are you doing in here?” he asks in a sharp tone. “Where the hell have you been? I was waiting for you and saw you with that tattooed motherfucker, and … Ellis, what the fuck?”

I can’t speak. Can’t form words. I completely break down right there in front of him, sobbing and clinging to the front of his white t-shirt like it’s the only thing keeping me centered and on the ground. He seems startled, but I can’t stop myself, and slowly, his arms band around me to hold me tight against him. I feel safe like this.

Protected.

Even though I’m not sure anything can protect me from Nora.

“What’s going on?” he demands, his breath fa

I move my head against his chest, my tears wetting the soft fabric of his shirt. I don’t want to say it out loud because it’s too horrible. Too much. Too real.

He slips his hands up to grip my shoulders and leans me back until our gazes link. “Mallory, tell me what’s happened?”

I shake my head. “Please … Saint … we need to get out of here.”

“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

I still can’t say the words out loud, so instead, I turn and point toward the pool. Saint glowers in the direction I’m pointing, then uncurls the fingers of my other hand from his shirt. I shrink toward the door, but I don’t leave, waiting to see his reaction. He stops at the pool’s edge and I see his shoulders stiffen, though that’s the only response he really has. After a heartbeat of time, he turns back around and slowly walks back to me.

“Saint, I didn’t do anything, I swear,” I blurt out. “I found him like this, it wasn’t—”

He presses a fingertip to my lips.

“I need you to shut up and listen to me, okay?” he says in a low voice. I nod, and he continues, “I’m going to fix this, okay? Right now, I need you to go to my room and don’t leave until I get there. Got it?”

I nod again, though I don’t know how in the hell he expects to fix this mess. I really don’t have much of a choice but to trust him, though, which could come back to bite me in the ass.

“Now get out of here,” he commands, pressing his keys into my palm, and I jump to obey him.

I run out the door and out of the building completely. I don’t stop ru

I’ve seen dead bodies before. I’ve seen people on their backs, drowning in vomit, and people slumped on toilets with needles still hanging from their arms. Death isn’t new to me. Horrific death doesn’t shock me the way it does normal people.

But the sight of Jon Eric’s body floating in a pool with half his skull missing will haunt me until my dying day.

He’d been on his back, and his eyes had stared up at the ceiling, seeing nothing as his mouth hung open in a silent scream. He died because of me. Because he’d hurt me. I didn’t commit the act, but Ghost used him to make a point.

Nora can do whatever she wants at any given moment, and there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop her.

My stomach lurches, and I stumble to my feet, staggering to Saint’s bathroom to throw up in the toilet. Why does shit like this keep happening to me?

When I’m reduced to painful dry heaves, I begin to sob, my cries accentuated by loud hiccups. I don’t want any of this. The money. Nora. Ghost or Je

I want Carley. I want to go home to Georgia, where the heat is suffocating but the nights quiet. I want to leave Angelview and all its drama behind. Fuck this school. Fuck the people in it.

Dylan.

Laurel.

Rosalind.

Gabe.

Even Liam.

And … Saint. Especially Saint.

I cry harder, realizing how much of a fool I really am because I don’t really mean think that. If I left Angelview—if I left Saint—I don’t know that I’d ever be the same.

He’s stolen a part of me, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get it back from him, no matter how much I claim to hate him or how much he makes my life hell.

I must be going crazy, to be having such thoughts.

I think of Nora and wonder if crazy runs in the family.

After I wash my face and rinse out my mouth, I drag myself to Saint’s giant bed, collapsing on top of it. I don’t even bother to pull down his sheets. Instead, I curl up on my side in a tight ball and let the tears start flowing again.

I think of Carley.

I think of home.

But when sleep finally claims me out of sheer exhaustion, the image in my head is Jon Eric’s lifeless decaying face.

I’m ru

Suddenly, the floor becomes slippery and I lose my footing, falling to my knees. What is this? I raise my hands, and they’re stained red.

It’s blood.

The floor is covered in blood.

I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out. I glance back over my shoulder and that shadow is drawing closer, but now it has a face. Or, rather, revolving faces. I see Nora for a second and then it shifts to Laurel. Then to Dylan, then Fi

Finally, it’s Jon Eric, his eyes wide and vacant.

I try to scream again, but still, I don’t make a sound. Scrambling to my feet, I attempt to run away again, but there’s something in my path that I smash into. Large hands drop on my shoulders and hold me in place.

Let me go, I want to shout, but my voice is gone. I turn my gaze up and Saint’s staring down at me, his expression blank. His grip on me is firm and I can’t shake free. He doesn’t budge. He doesn’t blink. He just holds me down while the darkness descends on me, hungry and ready to swallow me whole.

I wake with a startled cry, shooting straight up in Saint’s bed. Panting for breath, I gaze around, but the lights are still all on in his luxurious room. There are no shadows to speak of to come and harm me.

Heaving a painful sigh, I realize that someone’s knocking on the door. I crawl out of bed, making my way across the room. I crack the door open just enough that I can see outside.

“Thank god, it’s just you,” I murmur when I find Saint standing in the hallway, an unreadable expression taking over his golden features.

He releases a grunt. “Are you going to let us in or not?”

Us? I open the door wider and my heart plummets to the hardwood floor when I find Liam standing next to Saint.

“Did you call him?” I whisper.

“Couldn’t take care of the problem by myself,” he says. “Some extracurricular activities involve team lifting.”

“Saint…” I rasp, but he pushes his way into his room.

Liam follows after him, shooting me a curious look.

As soon as they’re inside, I shut and lock the door again.

Whirling to face them, I ask, “So? What happened?”

“What do you mean?” Saint asks, glancing toward Liam with a shrug. “We’ve had our differences, you know, but we ultimately decided this friendship is worth the hard work necessary to maintain it.”

Liam rolls his eyes, and I let out a frustrated groan as I drag my hands through my messy hair.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it,” I hiss. “What happened with the … pool situation?”