“You can give it to me, or I’ll take it, but I want to know who is doing this.”
I direct my anger at him. It’s the only thing I can do right now to keep from puking again. “And how do I know it wasn’t you? It wasn’t in my bag this morning when I left the house.”
“You looked in your bag before you left the house?”
Damn it. No. I don’t think I did. But there’s no way it was there, right? I would’ve noticed when I put my notebook back in it. “I don’t know but I don’t think it was there.”
“Who all has been around you this morning?”
“You.” He stares at me impatiently until I continue. “The usual. Brooke, Remy, Cain, your brother, and a bunch of random people in the hallway.” I recall every face I can. “Why would someone do this to me?”
Luca doesn’t answer as he reaches down and pulls the Polaroid out of my bag. I have a strong urge to duck back into the stall and hide. Or rip the photo away from him. It feels likehe’s invading my nightmare. And I don’t want to be there. But mainly, I don’t want him there either.
He studies the scene that I want to forget. When I grab it from him, he releases it though his hand stays in place. “Someone is fucking with your head.”
I shove the photo in my bag and out of sight. And for the first time in a long time, I struggle to not cry. “You don’t fucking say? I didn’t get that vibe from the photograph of my dead mother. Thanks for the clarification.”
When I turn to leave, his hand clasps around my bicep, keeping me in place as he says, “You’re playing right into their hand.”
Jerking my arm out of his grip, I scream, “I’m not playing a game. Whoever is doing this has gone too far. Fuck them and fuck Mercy.”
As soon as I take in a heave of oxygen while trying to calm down, he says, “It’s about time.”
I regret asking as the words leave my mouth. “Time for what?”
Please don’t say it was you. Please. I won’t be able to handle it.Out of everything he’s done, not this. We can’t share an exposed moment where he showed his weakness for him to then turn around and use mine against me.
“For you to get angry and not just be passive.”
A laugh bubbles out of my chest. “Glad I could do that for you. Because it’s not such a great experience from my perspective.”
Between the Polaroids and the eventful visit at Uncle Shawn’s, I’m done. Because this fucking sucks. I struggle to catch my breath as I drive away from Belgrave with no destination in mind. Suddenly, feeling numb wasn’t as bad as I thought.
37
LUCA
I should follow her. But instead, I go to the classroom where I know Brooke will be and haul her into the hallway. “Who the fuck was it?”
“Who was—” Before she can finish, my fist slams into the locker beside her head.
Her entire body flinches as she cowers away. “It wasn’t me.”
Which means she knows who it was.
“Tell me. Now.”
“Luca, he’ll?—”
My knuckles smash against the metal again, closer to her head.
Tears trail down her cheek as she confesses, “It was Micah. Please don’t tell him I told you. He’ll kill me.”
“Not if I kill him first.” I truly feel like I want to in this moment. “Where did he get the photographs from?”
She flinches and shields her face when I go to move. “I don’t know. He wouldn’t tell me. He was trying to upset Ivy so she’ll drop out of Mercy or think it was you tormenting her. I begged him not to. That was her mom. If he would do that, what won’t he do to win?”
“You already know the answer to that.” I release her and try to remember where the fuck he is. I memorized his schedule to keep tabs on him. But I’m so fucking furious I’m second-guessing which room he’s in. It doesn’t matter. I will search every inch of this building until I find him.
