I let it ring out, watching us disappear and the missed call notification flicks across the screen in its place.
I look over at the razor perched on the side of the tub and grab it. My shoulder protests, zinging me with pain that radiates down my entire arm to my fingertips causing me to drop it in the water. I bang my head back on the porcelain of the tub.
“What the fuck am I doing?” I ask aloud to myself.
A ding comes through on my phone, a notification from Kildale Academy.
I frown down at the email, reading over the announcement of our new headmaster and their condolences over the loss of Pierce.
“No fucking way.” I sit up, sloshing the water as I pull myself out of the tub.
I let out a scream of frustration, pouring every ounce of pain I’ve felt into it, letting it shred my vocal cords. My wet knees hit the tile and I cradle my head in my hands.
This wasn’t the revenge I needed.
No.
I needed to shred someone limb from limb for taking Pierce from me. I needed to ruin the people who did this. My father, Walker’s and all of us that had been tied to these fucking sins.
The only lives that I would take would be theirs.
I push myself off the floor, setting my jaw. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and see a stranger looking back. My dark hair hasn’t been washed in days, leaving a greasy pile on top of my sunken in face.
I take stock of my injuries, and with a new purpose I leave this place, vowing to never come back.
Before I leave, I grab one of the pictures from the floor, brushing off the glass. I rip the piece with my father’s bloodied face clear off, leaving Pierce, my mom and I looking back at me. I fold up the picture, shoving it into my pocket.
“I’ll make him pay for it.” I promise them both before I stalk out of the house, leaving the front door wide open on my way out.
ChapterFifteen
SALEM
SONGS: HUSH BY JACKSON+SELLERS, THE FRUITS BY PARIS PALOMA
Students file into the gymnasium all wearing matching uniforms of black, gray, and white. We're a sea of monochrome as we settle into the wooden bleachers. The low murmuring filters through the stale air as we wait for this impromptu assembly to begin. My feet protest as I limp against Skye and Walker making me wince. Graham follows close behind while we slowly amble up the gymnasium bleachers. I’m grateful for their calming presence as my stomach clenches with nerves.I wasn’t completely healed yet and each step I take feels like I’m walking on hot coals. I bite my lip to muffle a groan of pain that tries to slip out. Walker places his hand on my lower back, and it instantly calms me. The churning in my stomach begins to settle as I feel the warmth from his hand seep into me. I already know what this assembly is about, and I want nothing more than to go back to my room and hide under a pile of blankets.
We find some open seats, the wood groaning with our collective weight.I pick at my nails, the black polish almost completely chipping away. Walker slides his rough hand into mine, halting my nervous habit. I glance up at him and give him a small smile. He gives me one in return, the motion pulling at his scarred skin. I scan the crowd finding Javelynn and Jackson huddling together. I wave, catching their attention, as they give me a tentative wave back. I turn my attention back to the front, as the rest of the guys from our house file into the only remaining seats.
A solemn line of professors and deans are seated near the gym's center, with two rows of foldable chairs haphazardly placed next to a lone microphone stand.I find the man that must be Walker’s dad, positioned in the chair closest to the microphone. They share the same proud nose, and broad shoulders, but there’s a cruelty that hangs around his fake smile that differs from Walker.
“I hear that the headmaster's body was found under the rubble today.” A snotty voice comes from behind me cutting through the low noise. I feel my body stiffen at her words like they’re physically pelting me. The tension in the air is palpable as we wait together. It feels as if a million years have passed before someone finally heads up to the microphone. A blonde woman in a low-slung chignon and black tailored suite steps up to speak. Her matching kitten heels clack against the lacquered floor, echoing off the high vaulted ceiling.
“Welcome students. As most of you have heard, we received some distressing news confirming that our beloved Headmaster Hayden’s body was found crushed in the rubble this morning.”
I feel my muscles begin to shake. My mind flashes back to the manic look in Emmet’s eyes. I remember how the bindings cut into my wrists as he hauled me down the path, gun pointed straight at me. If I had only known how to use my fucking magic, Pierce would still be here.
“Unfortunately, they still have not located the body of Pierce Ledger, and at this time authorities have ruled that he is presumed to be dead.”
Several gasps and a few sobs echo all around us. I find myself clasping Walker’s hand so hard that it begins to blanch white, while Skye squeezes my arm reassuringly. I let go, whispering an apology to Walker who shrugs it off.
“Wasn’t she dating Pierce?” the same snotty voice from behind whispers loud enough that we can all hear. “Guess she moved on quick.” I feel a flare of magic rear up inside of me ready to shut this girl up for insinuating that I wasn’t absolutely devastated by losing Pierce. It had taken everything in me to shower and put my uniform on. Purple bruises stain the bags under my eyes, which I didn’t even attempt to cover up with makeup. Walker grips my knee and I’m able to reel back my outburst, but just barely. I’m on edge and feel as if I could let it all explode out of me at any moment.
“Now, we understand what a difficult time this must be for everyone to have such monumental losses to our tight-knit community. Counselors will be available to anyone that needs assistance in processing their grief. The school board recognizes that while Headmaster Hayden is irreplaceable, we still need a headmaster to properly function as a school. I’d like to introduce the newly appointed Headmaster Hart.”
A few of the teachers clap with the enthusiasm of a corpse as Walker’s dad, our new headmaster, dramatically rises from his chair, making a show of buttoning his tweed jacket. A dark part of me, buried deep in my heart perks up at his presence. A swirl of excitement coats my skin, and I don’t know why I’m reacting this way. Walker told me explicitly that this man was to not be trusted.
“Thank you for that introduction, Dean Foster. I’m honored to have been chosen for such a prestigious position at this academy. This place holds many dear memories for me and I’m grateful to be given a chance to give back to the next generation of Wildcats. Go Cats! Many of you may know my son, Walker, who is a junior here.”
