36
ERIK
This is how things end with her?
I stand in the hall outside the library, staring blankly at the doorframe. My chest feels as if there’s a funeral pyre raging within it, burning me to ash.
No amount of thinking will change anything, but my mind chases itself in circles, trying to figure out if there was some magical thing I could’ve said or done to keep her.
“Hey,” a male voice says from behind me.
I turn my head to find Declan standing with a tray that holds a steaming coffee pot and formal china cups and saucers. I feel like smashing them. And that urge is violent, I think disgustedly.
“Cami said you didn’t get a chance to eat,” he says. “There’s roast beef in the fridge.”
“No.” Drawing in a breath, I shake my head.
There’s nothing useful to be done in the hall, so I walk into the library with Declan. Reynolds who’s scrolling through one of the phones looks up at the tray with a bright smile.
“You’re a lifesaver, Declan,” she says, making room on one end of the coffee table. Once he sets the tray down, she stands and rises onto her toes to give him a kiss. “Thank you.”
Envy crushes me, grinding me to dust. Declan’s girlfriend loves him for bringing her coffee. I risked my fucking life… and nothing.
“Shane and Avery went to bed,” Declan says. “I’ve spoken to Octavia’s fiancé. She’ll stay here with us until he gets back from his business trip.” Declan turns to me. “We could take this upstairs to the war room.”
Warroom. That’s what we call the place we meet to talk about hunting Casanova. So I can kill him.
Violence comes naturally to you,she said. That’s not true. But it’s not completely false, either. In the beginning, Ihadto become violent.Then, I got good at it.
Given the state of things on campus, there’s no way to avoid it. But I don’t intend for it to be the focus of my life forever. I know the carnage is disturbing for her. I don’t expect her to ride out this storm with me. I just need her to wait for me while I do it. The fact that she won’t… what does that say?
The pair look at me expectantly. They’re waiting for an answer.
“Here’s fine,” I say.
“We’ve narrowed the list down to half a dozen. I’ll grab the folder,” Declan says.
Reynolds sits back on the couch and holds up a phone. “This one’s security app is glitching. I was able to open it without a code. And this is interesting.”
I take a seat at the end of the couch, waiting, trying to focus. My brain doesn’t care about Casanova. It wants to find a way to rewrite history. It wants Arya back.
“By calling this phone with the other unlocked one, I was able to figure out that this phone belongs to Wilson. His texts suggest he’s worried what will happen if a certain girl comes forward with accusations. The person he’s texting with is listed in the contacts as FMH, and that person advises Wilson that the games they’ve played are ‘universal and natural’ for men. Listen.” She bends over the phone. “‘The modern world has become overbearing in its false self righteousness. But don’t worry. GU women who cause trouble get what they deserve. Down to the very first one.’”
Heyworth is nearly to the door when he stops and turns. We exchange a look, thinking of the story he told me about the origins of the Dark Knights. The vigilante secret society formed in response to the rape and subsequent suicide of GU’s first female student.
“FMH sounds like Casanova,” I say. “Or someone who thinks like him.”
“Except this phone number isn’t one of the six suspects,” she says. “I don’t recognize it. And here’s something else I wanted to show you. From right before the parade to celebrate the Palmetto Bowl win. Wilson sent a text to FMH that said,’You’re right. This is not ourcarnivale. It belongs to them. Five will reign in Daytona, as you did in South Padre.’”
“Five willreign?” Heyworth scoffs, rolling his eyes.
I rub my jaw and lift the other phone we’ve unlocked. “What’s the number for FMH?”
Reynolds taps the screen. “617-214-8823.”
Looking through the phone, I find it. “That number is here, too. Not under FMH. Under Maestro.”
“Maestro. Italian for master,” Reynolds says. “Casanova was Italian.”
