Cruel Love (Privilege 6) - Page 25

“Okay,” Tahira said. “But text us if you need anything.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Maria asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Ariana said confidently.

As soon as I put as much distance between myself and Meloni as possible, she added silently. She cast a glance at a concerned Jasper, then speed-walked down the aisle. I’ll be okay as soon as I’m by myself and have some time to think.

“Rest assured that I’m here for all of you, whenever you need me,” Dr. Meloni was saying, as Ariana reached the exit. “I’ve helped heal hundreds of troubled souls in the past, and I’m looking forward to helping all of you.”

Ariana shoved open the door, stepped out into the frigid, gray morning, and started to run.

IF NOT FOR HER

Back in her room, Ariana frantically, illogically shoved her desk chair against her door, then sat down on her bed, clutching at the sheets. Her throat closed over and she choked out a sob. She glanced around her room frantically, as if there were answers among the neatly organized books, the labeled boxes of shoes in her open closet, the art and travel posters tacked to the walls at perfect right angles.

What am I going to do? What am I going to do?

Meloni was here. He had invaded her carefully constructed, perfect new life. He was here and she was going to have to see him. The headmaster had made that crystal clear. She was going to have to attend her mandatory grief-counseling appointment, and if she did that, she’d be headed right back to the Brenda T. before she could say the words “electric chair.” Ariana’s stomach clenched suddenly and she doubled over.

This can’t be happening. This can not be happening.

On her knees on the cold wood floor of her dorm room, the walls seemed to close slowly in on her. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t possible. How could he have found her?

She covered her face with her hands and wailed at the injustice of it all. There was nothing in the world but her anger, her pain. Nothing in the world but this white-hot fear inside her chest. She had worked so hard, sacrificed so much, done unspeakable things in the name of self-preservation, and for what? So that cocky jackass could waltz on in here and take it all away from her?

Ariana lifted her tear-stained face. The first thing her eyes fell upon was the folded newspaper sticking out of the outer pocket on her messenger bag.

GEORGETOWN SOCCER STAR, were the only words she saw.

“No,” Ariana blurted.

She whipped the newspaper out of her bag and found Reed’s name buried inside the article.

“It’s you!” she spat through clenched teeth, crushing the newspaper in her palm. “It’s your fault. You’re the reason I’m here. You’re the reason all of this had to happen.” She pushed herself to her feet, focusing all her ire, all her grief, everything inside of her, on the ball of newsprint. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have graduated from Easton and I’d be at Princeton right now. If it wasn’t for you I never would have met Victor Meloni. Thomas would still be alive. Briana Leigh would still be alive. You killed them! You sent me to that fucking prison and you unleashed Kaitlynn Nottingham on the world. Brigit died because of you. Lexa died because of you. Every last ounce of their blood is on your pretty little stupid fucking head!”

Ariana whipped around and drove the fist holding the newspaper into the wall as hard as she possibly could.

Her hand exploded in pain. The skin on her knuckles cracked open and her fingers burned. But still, it wasn’t enough. Letting out a screech of rage, Ariana tore the posters from the wall above her bed and ripped them to shreds. She picked up her makeup mirror and hurled it across the room like a Frisbee, shattering it into a billion glittering shards. Nothing was safe from her path. She tore her designer clothes from their silk hangers, threw her computer to the floor, ripped the curtains free of their rods. She shredded and smashed and slammed and screamed until nothing in the room was left intact.

And then, chest heaving, she sank to the floor and curled into a ball on her side, pressing her forehead into her knees. Reed’s eyes, Meloni’s smirk, Reed’s grin, Meloni’s condescending sneer. The images flashed through her mind, rapid-fire, melding and melting and contorting into a frightening, ghoulish mask. Ariana grabbed at her hair, shook her head violently, willed her enemies out of her mind—out of existence.

Breathe, Ariana. Just breathe.

In, one … two … three …

Out, one … two … three …

In, one … two … three …

Out, one … two … three …

In, one … two … three …

Out, one … two … three …

In, one … two … three …

Out, one … two … three …

Tags: Kate Brian Privilege Mystery
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