“I know.”
“You made me believe… you made me believe in love again...” My voice trailed off as my vision turned black. I succumbed to the darkness, praying I’d never wake up.
****
There were voices in my dreams… they were familiar. I heard Saylor and then Kiersten…
The bed dipped. I curled onto my side, still not opening my eyes as Gabe shouted, “What the hell did you do!”
“She just found it.”
“You mean you left it out? You bastard! I should kill you!” Gabe roared.
“Guys.” Wes’s voice sounded calmer. “Stop.”
“Right. I just freaking left out his sick journal so she’d hate me forever.” Tristan matched Gabe’s loudness. “Good plan, jackass!”
“I’m going to kill you!”
Tristan was quiet and then whispered, “Do it. I already feel dead.”
“I think she’s waking up,” Kiersten whispered.
Something cold touched my forehead.
I blinked once, then twice. My eyes felt heavy. The first thing I saw was Kiersten's worried gaze and then Saylor's. They were on either side of me. I was in Tristan’s bed. Something confined me, kept me from moving. No. Panicked, all I could think of was being tied to the bed. But no, it was just blankets. Still, I had to get out of there.
I thrashed, kicking at the covers and pushing at them. I had to get them off me. I didn’t want any part of him touching me. Just the thought that he’d even touched the sheets that now touched me held me down, disgusted me. Bile rose in my throat, and my stomach twisted. I was going to puke.
“Stop.” Kiersten gripped my hands. “You’re going to pass out again.”
“Shit.” Gabe ran over to the bed and gripped my shoulders. “Breathe, Lisa. C’mon, tell me you’re okay. Tell me you aren’t going to scare me again.”
I nodded, tears sliding down my cheeks.
Gabe examined my face then tilted my head to the side. “Bastard. I should kill you!” He lunged for Tristan again, but Wes stopped him, pushing him away so hard Gabe almost fell over.
I should have blushed. I knew I had a few hickeys; I’d seen them in the mirror when I’d used the bathroom.
More tears fell.
And silence.
I hated the silence because it was always impossible to interpret. Were they pitying me? Scared? Sad? And why the heck were they even here, like they knew—?
My head snapped up as I met Gabe’s guilty face then Wes’s.
“All of you,” I croaked. “All of you knew?”
“It’s not what you think.” Tristan took a step forward, only to be stopped by Wes’s hand.
“Explain.” A slow chill rolled through me as I rubbed my arms and tried to calm my body down.
Tristan looked to Gabe and started toward me. “I came to Seattle for you…”
My breathing hitched at his bold admission then picked up again.
“The journal was sent to me a month ago, but the last entry was two years ago.” He swallowed. “It had your picture in it, and when I saw you on the news—”