We both turn to look, freezing when we see the name on the gold plaque.
B. ROOKE
Winslow just said he wasn’t here. So why the fuck do I get the sense he’s leaning against the inside of the door, smiling at our pathetic plans as he makes his own?
Because I’m paranoid as shit, that’s why.
Haven shivers. “Let’s go,” she whispers, tugging on my hand, the hand clamped on her tote bag’s strap white-knuckled.
I let her lead me down the hall, but my head drags around, eyes locking on Rooke’s door.
We thought all it would take was being a little brave, and we’d be out of his web.
But something tells me all this struggling is only wrapping us tighter.
Chapter 4
Haven
Walking back into the GAZ house feels like returning to a crime scene. A White Gardenia scented crime scene, where the only thing murdered was my self-esteem and hope of ever fitting in.
The sorority house’s manicured lawn is nothing like Ashwood High.
God, how I hated that dump. Peeling paint, barbed wire looped over the rusted chain-link fence. The metal detectors we had to walk through just to get inside—more a run-down prison than school.
“Bet you never thought you’d live in a place like this,” Kai says, as if he’s reading my mind.
“I don’t live here anymore,” I murmur, half to myself. “Come on, let’s find Melissa and get my stuff.”
“Thought you didn’t want your stuff.”
“I don’t. Not really. But it’s mine, so.” I shrug. “If I leave it here, they’ll probably burn it.” When I glance over at him and see his frown, I add, “Bubonic plague.”
Kai snorts, but there’s a tightness around his eyes. Guess he’s still pissed about what happened at the dean’s office. Or maybe he’s just stressed. It’s so hard to tell with him.
The front door is unlocked because these girls have never had to worry about anything being stolen in their lives.
Wonder what that’s like.
Abigail is perched on the edge of one of the floral sofas in the living area, studying her manicure. The fall-inspired scented candle she lit wars bravely with the stench of her nail polish, but it’s a losing battle.
“Haven,” she greets without looking up. “Thought you were never coming back.”
“Surprise,” I say dryly. “Melissa around?”
Abigail finally raises her eyes, and her gaze goes straight to Kai. Lingering. Assessing. Finding him unworthy. Probably because he’s got a sucker in his mouth like a three-year-old. I’m glad the lollipop habit helped him give up cigarettes, but would it kill him to chew gum in public?
Although I’m definitely not complaining about the raspberry-flavored kisses I get when he’s done.
“Nope.” She stands, smoothing her freshly painted hands down her lime-green leggings, her cropped sweater riding up. “Haven’t seen her since Sunday.”
I frown at her, unease trickling down my spine like icy rainwater. “Where is she?”
“How the hell should I know?”
Abigail crosses the living room to blow out the candle on the fireplace mantel with the grace that comes from years of yoga lessons. “Glad you finally got the message about your things. The new girl’s arriving this weekend.”
“Wait, what?” I blink, mind racing. “You’re kicking me out?”
