He sets the paper down. “Of course, sweetheart. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
His face is laced with sincerity. I deeply wish my father was less controlling. We have a good relationship—if only we could just move past that.
The paper steals his attention again. “Dante will drive you. I will be on campus for business in a few weeks. I’ll check in on you, sweetheart.” Again, he doesn’t bother to look my way.I nod and finish my breakfast in silence. Packing takes no time at all. Since I’d only planned on staying a few nights, I hadn’t even bothered to unpack fully. Dante readies the car and we make the hour trek back to Grimshaw Academy.
When we pull up to the Scion Building, Clara is outside waiting for me. Excitement fills her face the moment I exit. Her blonde hair is tied into a messy bun. The sting of the cold air makes her cheeks look freshly pinkened. I rush into her arms, embracing her in a deep hug. “I missed you,” I mumble against her sweater.
She pulls away, clutching my shoulders. “Not as much as I missed you!” she says gleefully.
Dante unloads the back of the car in silence. We link arms as we approach the building, chatting about what we’ve missed. I punch the code in and hold the door for Dante so he can wheel the bags inside.
“So, you’re back early,” she wags her brow, fishing as to why. We were only gone a few days. Our steps thud down the quiet hallway. My reasoning of not wanting to leave Clara alone is not the whole truth.
Of course I miss her and hate the fact she was alone, but I have an ulterior motive.
We unlock the dorm, and the fresh scent of home hits my nostrils.
Dante wheels the bags to my bed; they scrape along the carpeted floor. I bid Dante farewell before he heads back to the car. I climb on Clara’s bed and tell her everything. I meaneverything. “Vesper Santi!” she gasps with a wide mouth.
I bury my forehead in her shoulder. “I fully intended to stay away. He keeps showing up! Breaking into my freaking father’s house was absolutely wild. I mean how does the dude even know where I live? Instead of being concerned, all I can think about is when I’ll see him again. How messed up is that? “She waves me off and pulls me by myupper arm to face her. “I look at it as if it’s just like our romance books,” she says pointedly, but I know she’s joking.
But…maybe she has a point. He has a fetish for knife play and blood, but he’s never tried to kill me. There is definitely some underlying trauma, though he refuses to discuss.
I blanch at myself. I’m going insane. I’m reasoning out his maniacal, delusional behavior.
Clara snaps in my face. “Stop it,” she warns with a stern look, sensing my conflict. “You’re really considering seeing him again? Listen, Vesp, when I told you to let loose, that was before I realized he’s a bit psychotic.”
“He accused me of wanting to fix him. I suppose he’s kinda right. I know there’re feelings buried there somewhere,” I murmur. Or maybe there aren’t? Maybe he is just a cold, merciless man.
We both let ourselves fall back onto the bed. I stare at the ceiling, rationalizing.
“We have a few days before classes start back up. I’m going to try to talk to him.” I suck my bottom lip.
She turns towards me, her eyes full of apprehension. “Don’t push a guy like that, Vesp.”
But deep down I know he wouldn’t hurt me…would he?
***
Snowflakes drizzle from the dark sky as my boots slap the icy sidewalk. In my pocket rests Zain’s switchblade. I could wait to return it to him. Hell, if I was smart, I’d turn it into the dean and have him deal with it. Though, that might implicate him in a few unsavory situations. Instead, I prove to myself that I’m not smart. I lack the sense to stay away from this guy, and that’s crazy because I’m a freaking honor student with a bright road of music ahead of me. Zain threatens to disrupt that, yet here I am, walking across campus at midnight to return a weapon to a psychopath. The safety of campus falls into the background as I approach the rough neighborhood of broken streetlamps, high crime rate, and heavy drug use. I’m somewhat thankful it’s chilly out, because if it were summer, there would be a lot more questionable people lingering around the dark corners.
I tighten my cardigan around my cream sweatshirt. The wind whistles along my ear, and the back of my hair stands up. Something is off. It’s eerily quiet. I pick up the pace and round the next street corner. Behind the brick building a shadowy figure emerges. He’s tall and his hands are jammed in his pockets. His face is obscured by the glow of the streetlamp.
I freeze.
“What a truly vespertine affair.” A cackling laugh follows.
His words douse me like a cold bucket of water. That voice. I recognize it. I squint, hoping to make out a single recognizable detail. His tall form steps forward. His dark, beaded eyes. His twisted smile. Jax.
My body vibrates with unease. I’m paralyzed, unable to move my feet even though my mind is screaming at me to bolt. “What do you want?”
He grows closer, every step calculated and lethal.
I shuffle backwards, erasing the distance between us. I slam my eyes closed. Breathe, Vesper.Run.
With a quickness I didn’t know I possess, I take off into the night. Each exhale of my hot breath leaves a frosty plum of air in front of my face. My lungs are burning, but I don’t dare look back or stop. Zain’s house grows closer. I refuse to slow down until I reach the safety of his doorstep. My chest is heaving, and I’m praying he’s here. His house is eerily quiet. The lights are off and I second-guess if anyone is even home.
With desperation, I bang on the door. Neighboring dogs start barking, calling attention to me. I worry Jax is a hair away from finding me. I don’t stop, my fists pound and pound until they’re red. Just when hopelessness creeps in, the door flies open.
