Dead Girls Never Talk - Page 68

Her wide eyes flung to mine, catching the shine of the night sky. “They’re here for me.”

The fear in her voice almost took me down to my knees. I felt sick, and I immediately stole my gaze from her and peered over her head at the courtyard that she had been brutally attacked in. My hands rounded in on her cheeks, her tangled hair getting caught in my fingers. “I would kill them all if they tried to take you. No one is here to get you. I promise.”

Her voice was shaky, on the brink of panic. “But what if they know we burnt down the psych hospital? What if they’re here to take me back to a psych ward because they think I’m actually mentally ill? What if they think I’m unstable? These are all things they have thought before. Not only did I sneak out of the place, causing a whole domino effect between everyone, but I burnt the fucking place down!” Her hand moved to slap against her forehead, but I caught it before it made an impact.

“Look at me.” Fucking look at me, baby.

Her troubled gray eyes flung to mine, both glossy and fearful. “You’re going to go up to your room. Shiner will walk with you. He’s already waiting by the side door. I’m going to go listen to what the police want. If anything, I’ll tell them I was the one to do it. So, stop worrying, okay? Please.” Because it fucking kills me to see you like this.

Her face fell. “You can’t take the blame. I was there, too.”

I laughed. “I can do whatever the fuck I want. Now go.”

“Cade.”

My forehead fell to hers, and I breathed her in. “Go.”

I could tell she wanted to protest, and I wasn’t sure what went through her head, but when she heard Shiner hooting from the side door, like an owl nonetheless, she let out a shaky sigh and trudged the rest of the way up the snowy bank.

I walked the rest of the way to the front doors, passing by the bright red and blue lights flickering against the white snow, and put my cold hands in my pockets. The door was slightly ajar, and I could see that Tate had taken the police into his office, probably annoyed beyond belief that they’d shown up so late.

Most of the time, Headmaster Ellison lived in his office. Stale coffee rested in his many mugs, and he appeared disheveled nine times out of ten. He was a hard worker—I’d give him that—and he was probably closer to a father figure to me than my own felon father. But now that he had custody of Isaiah’s little brother, Jack, he wasn’t here as much as before. He was still packed full of shit to do, but it involved not only St. Mary’s but also his family. He’d taken in a child who wasn’t biologically related to him and gained two of his own children that he wasn’t aware that he’d had. Dude has his plate full.

As soon as I crept through the door of St. Mary’s, I sat on the bench out in front of his office and could hear the loud voices as if I were inside with them.

My phone buzzed, and I hoped it was Shiner, letting me know that he had gotten Journey back to her room okay, because that was one worry that wasn’t far away.

Isaiah: Are you at least going to blend in so they don’t see you sitting on the bench, listening to their conversation?

I gazed around the quiet entry hall, wondering where he was.

Me: Just taking a page out of your handbook. Zero fucks are given.

His chuckle echoed, and I placed my head back on the hard wall, straining my ear. Tate’s voice was easy to decipher because he was near hysterics.

“You want me to wake up a teenage girl at eleven at night, hours after curfew, for what reason? This couldn’t have waited until the morning? I have a child, you know. I’m a single father. He’s up at the house by himself.” His scoff was so loud it was as if I was beside him.

“This is a pressing issue.”

Pressing issue?

“We couldn’t risk waiting until the morning.”

The creaking of Tate’s chair echoed, and my phone buzzed again.

Shiner: Your girl just pulled a fucking knife on me because I told her she had to go back to her room. Why do you and Isaiah both have such bossy girls? Jesus.

A second later.

Shiner: It was kinda hot, though.

My fingers moved quickly.

Me: Where the fuck is she?

The tapping of my leg was quiet, but a nervous jitter was tingling all my limbs. Journey. Journey. Journey. Maybe I should punish her later. My dick jumped, but my mind quickly climbed itself out of the gutter when I spotted her slinking down the hallway, dressed in her usual black get-up.

My head shook, and I ignored the text that I was sure was from Isaiah as Journey came and sat down beside me. Isaiah popped out of the shadows a second later.

Tags: S.J. Sylvis Romance
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