Eden

27

“Mallory? Mallory, are you paying attention?”

I blink and my gaze focuses in on Nora, who’s sitting across from me. It’s Sunday night, and per our agreement, we’re having di

“Yeah, sorry,” I stammer.

She purses her lips and frowns, her eyes flashing with irritation. “Where’s your head tonight? I’d think this interaction and conversation would be of the highest priority to you.”

“It is,” I quickly assure her through gritted teeth. “Believe me. I know I’d be an idiot to let my guard down around you.”

Oddly enough, she seemed pleased by my words.

“That’s my smart girl. Trust nobody, and you might just survive this bullshit world.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I definitely don’t trust you.”

She chuckles, and I turned my focus back onto my food. I wasn’t hungry—I never really was during these bullshit di

And I was not about to piss this vindictive psycho off.

When I’d first arrived to meet her, I’d worried she’d lay into me about Saint, but she hadn’t said a thing about him yet. I wonder if she even knows we’ve still been together? Well, except for Friday of course. And yesterday. In fact, I hadn’t heard from Saint since Gabe’s party, so maybe I was worried over nothing. Maybe he regretted telling me everything that he had, and we really were done this time.

“So, tell me, how’s school?” she asks, as if she’s a normal mom and this is a normal meal and not an interaction forced upon me with blackmail and threats of murder.

“It’s fine,” I say with a shrug.

Her eyes latch onto me. “Just fine? Mallory, I expressed how important it is for you to do well in school, didn’t I?”

There’s a warning in her tone that I’d be an idiot not to heed.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I murmur, “Don’t worry. I’m still getting straight A’s.”

She gives me an almost relieved smile. “That’s excellent. I’m very proud of you.”

Horseshit, but I don’t argue the point. Instead, I contemplate asking her about Je

“Nora, when will I be able to see Momma again?” I ask, careful to keep my voice from sounding too demanding.

She doesn’t look up from her food. “Why do you need to see her?”

“I … I just would like to talk to her. Alone.”

It’s a bold request, but I hold my breath and wait for her response.

She glances up at me and shakes her head. “That won’t be possible.”

I frown. “Why not?”

“Je

I sense that she’s lying, but I’m too big a coward to call her on it. My mind begins to race, wondering if Je

Did this bitch let her OD, or worse, kill her herself?

I want to demand answers, but I know I’ll only make it worse for Je

Though I let the subject drop and am careful with my words the rest of the di

If she can harm her only sister who’s sacrificed so much in order to help her plot her revenge, there’s no telling what she’ll do to a disobedient child who’s basically a stranger.

The next morning, I seriously consider just staying in my room and hiding for the entire day. Between Nora’s threatening presence and Saint’s startling revelations, I don’t know how I’m going to be able to focus on school. Since I can’t forget Nora’s warning to continue to keep up my academics, I begrudgingly get ready for the day and head for my door.

When I open it, I let out a surprised squeak.

Saint’s standing in the hallway, waiting for me.

“What are you doing here?” I ask breathlessly.

He looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Walking you to class. It’s our thing, Ellis.”

I almost point out that it certainly was not our thing on Friday, but I’m so relieved to see him that I don’t say a word.

“Okay.” I nod and gulp down the tightness in the back of my throat. “Let’s go.”

He steps aside to give me room to walk over my threshold. I shut my door behind me and lock it, and we silently make our way down the hall toward the elevator. My mind is a whirl as I try to think of something to say to him. I should say something. Anything. We didn’t end things in a good way Friday night, and I had hurt him.

That had haunted me all weekend.

Yet, just as then, I’m unable to come up with anything useful to say now.

When we step into the elevator and the doors slide shut, I finally blurt out, “I’m sorry about Friday.”

He barely spares me a glance, his face a mask of cold indifference.

“What about it?”

His response catches me off guard. “The party. About what you told me in the bathroom.”

He gives an awkward shrug but I see his fists clench at his sides. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does. You shared some really personal, horrible stuff, and I didn’t respond like I should have because—”

“You responded exactly as your instincts told you to,” he interrupts. His tone is calm, almost bored sounding, but there’s an underlying edge to it that gives me a glimpse of the fury bubbling beneath the surface. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Saint—”

At that moment, the elevator doors ding and open and he steps out of the car with me close on his heels. He walks too quickly for me to hold a conversation with him, but not so quickly that I can’t keep up with him doing a light jog as we head to the dining hall.

I ignore the stares as we walk inside. Saint and I have been seen together for weeks now. I don’t get why everyone is still so fascinated by us.

“Can you slow down?” I huff.

To my surprise, he stops and zeroes in on me. “We’re not talking about Friday night,” he states, his tone hard. “I shouldn’t have bothered you with my shit.”

“You’re not a bother because I—”

“Drop it.”

“Okay,” I murmur. “Sorry. I’ll drop it.”

He gives one firm nod of his head. “Good. Now let’s fucking eat breakfast before we run out of time.”

Like a scolded child, I follow him to the buffet line. I can’t even be mad that’s he ordering me around. Not this time.

This time, I deserve it.

Things remain stiff and awkward between Saint and me for the next couple of days. He still follows me everywhere, my constant shadow, but he doesn’t really talk to me at all. He’s cold and distant, and I don’t even try to thaw him out. I figure the best I can do is just wait until his temper subsides before I attempt another conversation with him.

On Wednesday, I go to his track meet, hoping that might help smooth things over between us. Maybe if he sees me cheering him on, acting somewhat like an almost girlfriend is supposed to, he’ll be less angry.

God, I hate how hard I’m trying. It’s not like he’d do the same if I was angry with him. No, he’d just kiss me then fuck me until my brain turned to mush and I forgot why I was upset with him in the first place.