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“You stay with me.” Hunter’s arm brushed against her. “Every step of the way. Every moment. If some asshole comes at you with a knife, you fire, understand me?”

Yes, she understood. She’d shot a monster before. She could certainly do it again.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Where the fuck are my drawings?” Nate bellowed.

The cell door clanged shut behind him.

He shuffled forward, shock filling him as he stared at the blank walls of his cells. Every wall—blank. Nate whirled, glaring at the guard through the doors. “Where are my drawings?”

“Warden has them. Consider your therapy privileges revoked.” Smirking, the guard walking away.

“No, no!” He needed those drawings. They helped curb the longing. He needed them. “No!” Nate lunged for the bars. He grabbed them with his hands. “Bring me fresh paper! Give me the chalk back!” Because they were all gone. The drawings that he’d carefully taped to his walls. The paper. The chalk. “Bring it all back!”

The guard kept walking away.

Nate hurt. His face. His body. Bruises blooming. Nose fractured. Rib busted. That shithead boyfriend of Shelby’s thought he was so big and bad and⁠—

“They know you’re guilty.”

He snapped his teeth together. The last thing he wanted was to talk to the prick in the cell next to his.

“They all came inside. The warden. The guard. The pretty lady and her man.”

His fingers fisted around the bars, so tightly that his knuckles whitened. “Shelby?” Shelby had been in his cell? Shelby had been there?

If he tried hard enough, did he smell that vanilla scent of hers?

“They all know you’re guilty. They think you killed them. The Sorority Seven Killer…”

Seven girls hadn’t died, though. Only six. Because Shelby had lived.

Tiffany Blake wrote me all those notes about Shelby. I got rid of the notes. Those notes didn’t matter. Tiffany didn’t matter.

But his sketches…those important sketches…

I need them back!

“I remember the stories. So many girls.” The voice of the man in the next cell drifted to him. “Kali, Jenna, Tonya, Aisha, Margot and…” A pause. “And Kim⁠—”

“Who?”

Silence.

But…

Ah, right. Kim. She’d been the quiet one. Always so quiet and shy. Barely talking to him at all. He wouldn’t have chosen to kill her. She didn’t really matter to him. But she’d been there that night.

Anyone in the house had needed to die that night.

Only one girl had escaped death. Shelby.

“You can’t run forever,” Nate said. The words were meant for that bitch Shelby. “Sooner or later, death will find you.” Then he started to laugh.

“You’re right,” the prisoner next to him agreed. “Death will find you.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven