Plausible deniability.That's what he was giving himself, if I was right about him following me around campus.
My phone buzzed in my pocket a few minutes later. I pulled it out carefully, keeping it low so the professor wouldn't see.
Number Withheld:I heard you're still looking for answers.
Ice slid down my spine, and I glanced up. Julian's back was to me, but something about the set of his shoulders made me think he was definitely the one who sent the anonymous message.
My fingers trembled as I typed back.
Me:Who is this?
Three dots appeared immediately, and I stared at Julian the whole time, trying to figure out if he was actually the one typing. I couldn't tell, though. His hands weren’t visible, and his body seemed perfectly still. However, I could’ve sworn I saw the faintest twitch in his jaw, like he was holding back a smile.
The reply finally came through a moment later.
Number Withheld:Most people come to college to learn... but it seems like you aren't capable of learning lessons. Maybe you need someone to teach you again.
I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on those last three words.
Teach you again.
Like the blood. Like the message on my wall.
My eyes shot back up to Julian. He shifted in his seat, and for just a second, his gaze flicked toward me.
It was him. Ithadto be him. Unless the Dionysus Club had sent multiple guys to intimidate me in order to ensure my silence about my sister’s death.
My hands were shaking now, anger and fear warring in my chest. I wanted to stand up and confront Julian right there in the middle of the lecture, but what could I even say? ‘I know you're texting me threats’?He'd just deny it. Show me an empty message history. Make me look paranoid and unstable in front of the entire class.
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and stared at the back of his head, my jaw clenched so tight it ached.
The rest of the lecture passed in a blur. I didn't hear a word Professor Martin said. All I could focus on was Julian, sitting there so casually, like he wasn't actively trying to terrorize me.
When class ended, I stayed in my seat, letting the crowd thin out. I wanted to see what Julian would do. If he'd wait for me. If he'd try to approach.
But when I finally stood and made my way down the steps, he was already at the exit, standing with another guy—tall, athletic, probably from one of the sports teams. They were deep in conversation, Julian's posture relaxed, his attention completely on his companion.
He didn't look at me at all. Not even a glance. And for some stupid, irrational reason, that stung.
I stopped on the bottom step, staring at him. Waiting for him to turn and give me that look again; the one that made me feel like the only person in the room. But he didn't. He laughed at something the other guy said, clapped him on the shoulder, and walked out without a backward glance.
I stood there like an idiot, clutching my bag, feeling a sharp pang of something that felt dangerously close to disappointment.
What the hell is wrong with you?I asked myself.
Some traitorous part of mewantedJulian’s attention, but that was crazy.
I shook my head sharply and headed for the exit.No. Absolutely not.I wasn't doing this. I wasn't going to stand here wishing a guy like him would notice me or want me.
He was dangerous. I needed to remember that, even if my stupid, self-destructive heart kept forgetting. Or more accurately, my stupid, self-destructive libido.
As I headed away from the Hecate building, a tall guy with light brown hair stepped out in front of me, one hand lifted in a casual wave. He looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t figure out why.
“Hey, you’re Violet, right?” he asked.
I stopped, brows rising. “Um… yeah?”
He stuck his hand out and grinned. “Kane Sutherland. We haven't officially met, but I was standing right near you at that Midsummer party on Friday. At the food table? I think you were being introduced to someone called Jessy or Ginny.”
