Page 62 of The Unravelings

I rub my temple, begging the headache to quiet down and stop sounding like a damn rock band echoing against my skull. Maybe I should have taken some ibuprofen before I stepped outside. Or maybe I shouldn’t have stepped out at all. Numbing amounts of alcohol call my name from afar, begging me to indulge one more time. Anything to quell the chaotic thoughts running me ragged.

Thoughts of doubt. Thoughts of revenge. Thoughts about this case. This town. These fucking people. Them. Thoughts about every-fucking-thing happening.

Leave me be, already. Let me live my damn life without all this bullshit. Whatever. I need a new plan to focus on. One besides the Veritas case and getting close to Franco and the boys. Maybe I should lean into the case more. Get closer to JJ and suss out whether he’s telling the truth. Closure for me.

Not for Jonathan. Or Veritas. Me.

I deserve that much after all the bullshit I went through in the past and my grueling training with Veritas. All the cases I blindly went on for him without question. My loyalty has never strayed. But I can’t get the look on Jonathan’s face out of my damn memories. The desperation he spewed when he told me to come back here—consequences be damned.

I take a deep breath, returning my focus to Wilder. He stares at me like I’m an idiot for not calling Stephanie.

“Suit yourself. She was into you, though.” He shrugs, finishing off his coffee and pastry and tossing them in the trash outside Livy Hall.

“Would you call her?” I ask without thinking.

Wilder snorts. “I’ve got other things to focus on.”

Right. Of course. Same, though.

The sun’s gleam on the side of the building catches my eye again as it bounces off the plaque with my nickname. But it’s not that. It’s the 224. The special number we always shared to signify our loyalty to each other.

“Why isn’t it Bryar Hall anymore?” I blurt, staring up at the bricks like they’ll give me the answers I’m desperately seeking.

“Oh, uh…” Wilder trails off, scratching the back of his neck with an unreadable expression. “They renamed it three years ago after some bigwig took over the university. She was friends with my brother.”

I swallow hard. More than friends is what I want to say. Enemies now, though.

“Oh,” I say lamely.

“But she died in a house fire. Some electrical issues. It was a big deal in town for a while.” His expression flickers slightly as a hint of something crosses through his eyes as he reads the plaque.

Electrical? Is that how they explained it away? Even with the gasoline they strategically spread through the home and on my mother’s body? How was that possible? Maybe I need to investigate that, too. Dig through the reports of our deaths.

“Did you know her well?” I stupidly ask, peering at him as his brows furrow. My need for real answers lingers on my tongue, pressing harder than before.

“Not really. She was my brother’s girlfriend. That’s it.” He doesn’t say more as he takes a few steps toward the building. “She seemed okay, but I didn’t know her well. My brother and I aren’t exactly on good terms.” He doesn’t elaborate further. He shakes his head and takes a step toward the double-doored entrance.

I nod, tossing my empty coffee cup and donut wrapper into the trash, and walk beside Wilder.

“Why was her death such a big deal?” I ask in a low voice, curiosity getting the better of me.

Wilder’s gaze slides to me. “Do you know anything about Greenwood?”

Too much.

“Not really.”

An uncomfortable feeling slithers through me as we walk through the double doors of Livy Hall side by side. Other students mill around, chatting as they leave their classes this morning. I notice the apprehension some students give Wilder as they stroll by. The same wide berth they give Hux, JJ, and Mack.

“Well, just know there’s shit that happens in this town. Shady shit. Those so-called kings of campus were beside themselves after all that. They had some freaky four-way relationship with that chick.” He snorts at that, running his fingers over the cigarette behind his ear. “It wasn’t only her, though. That entire family got wiped out by the house fire. Rumors around town were that it was intentional. Murder. Suicide. Who the fuck knows? They say that the head honcho did something. I dunno, though. I had my own shit happening.” He leaves it at that, giving me nothing more as we enter the half-filled classroom.

I swallow hard, following him to the back of the lecture room and sitting beside him. Every student nearby looks him over. Even Wade, who sits a few chairs away from us.

More and more students file in, including Mack and Brutus, who sit near the front, whispering to each other like little girls giggling.

I scowl at them, keeping my gaze firmly on Mack. My heart pounds. A cold sweat forms on my flesh when he looks back at me, narrowing his eyes. A promise lies there. A promise for what? I’m not sure. Has JJ kept his part of the deal? Has he broken the promise he made me not to say a word?

“Don’t stare directly into his eyes, Oli. He’s a rabid dog, aching for a fight,” Wilder grunts, gaining my attention. “He’ll try to have you back in the ring with some other asshole again.”