“Fine. How about we start with what this is?” I asked, my voice rough now as I gestured with the knife toward her, toward the bed, toward the black rose still lying there like evidence. “Some kind of twisted game? What? Were you bored? Were you looking for attention? A weird new girl ritual? Is this some kind of fucked-up revenge you cooked up with Paisley?”
Hurt flickered first, genuine pain flashing across her features before she could mask it. “No. Paisley has nothing to do with this. I swear.” Something hardened behind her eyes, walls going up like armor sliding into place. “You think I terrorized myself? Attacked myself in the yard? Broke into my own house? So I could what? Lure you here? Get over yourself. You might be hot, but you’re not worth dying over.”
Fair enough, but I didn’t trust her. She lied to me. Not many people got away with lying to a Corvo. “I think…” I exhaled sharply, the breath leaving me in a rush of frustration and confusion as I dragged a hand through my hair before pointing the knife toward her again. “I think you’ve been playing me.”
“That’s not?—”
“You sent yourself those notes,” I pressed, accusations flying out of my mouth without thought. The lies ended here. I’d get the truth out of her, one way or another, and it started with this damn knife. “The roses. You created this whole fucked-up stalker story. Why? So I’d pay attention to you? So I’d stick around? So you’d have an excuse to get close to me?”
Her eyes flashed, heat igniting there. Fire meeting fury, revealing there was more to this girl than she let show. “Fine,” she bit out. “You got me. You want the truth?” she shotback, stepping toward me now instead of away. She closed the distance I’d created, getting in my space without a fraction of fear. The scared girl I’d seen when I first arrived…she was gone. “Yeah. I made it up. The notes. The roses. That was me.”
There it was.
The truth. Finally.
Fucking devastating.
My stomach hollowed out. I’d thought it. Had been building toward that conclusion, but hearing her admit it out loud twisted my heart, yanking on a thread I wasn’t ready to analyze.
“I wrote the notes. I staged it. I made you think someone was after me.”
I stared at her like she was a stranger. “You made me think someone was stalking you,” I repeated.
She nodded.
I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “Jesus Christ.” I dragged a hand down my face, pacing once because I needed to move, or I was going to put my fist through the wall. “I thought—” I cut myself off, shaking my head. “I thought I was protecting you.” The words tasted like shit in my mouth. “Do you have any idea how fucked up that is? I don’t even know what to say.”
“I don’t expect you to understand, but that guy tonight?” Her voice rose slightly, cracking on the edges. “He was real. He was in my house, and he attacked me in the yard. I didn’t makethatshit up.”
I searched her face for the truth, but I didn’t know how to find it anymore. She’d turned my trust upside down, even the trust I had in myself. “And I’m supposed to believe you?” I asked flatly. “After everything you just admitted? After you just told me you’ve been lying to me for weeks?”
“You don’t have to believe anything,” she snapped, her hands curling into fists at her sides. “But I know what I saw. What I feltwhen he put his hands on me. The sound of his voice in my ear. He was real.”
“Real or not, he’s gone now. There’s no one here.”
She trembled, her arms going around herself. “Fine. Leave. I don’t need you here judging me. I shouldn’t have called you. It’s a mistake I won’t make again.”
“See that you don’t, Hales.” I dragged a hand over my face, exhaustion hitting all at once. The adrenaline crash, the revelation, the burden of too many things falling apart simultaneously. “I thought I was the fucked up one,” I said under my breath. “But this?” I shook my head, looking at her like I was seeing her for the first time. Really seeing her. “This is something else.”
“You don’t get to look at me like that,” she snapped, her voice shaking with emotion barely contained and eyes bright with more than just anger. Tears threatening to fall, unshed but visible.
A humorless breath expelled. “Like what?”
“Like I’m crazy! You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you lied,” I hurled back. “That’s enough.”
Her chin lifted. “About some stupid notes. That doesn’t mean?—”
“It means everything,” I cut in as my fingers fisted into the front of her sweatshirt—mysweatshirt. “You don’t get to pick and choose when you’re telling the truth and expect me to jump every time you call.”
Her neck craned as she kept her gaze fastened on mine. “You don’t have to worry about me calling you again. Block me if you want.”
I yanked, pulling her against me. “I almost slept with you.”
“Would that have been so bad? You think you’re so perfect?” she fired back, her breath hot on my throat. “That you’ve never fucked up?”
“We’re not talking about me,” I gritted out.
