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“Probably because she knew I’d tell her not to go,” I muttered, feeling the need to scream. Ash was with Sawyer—doing what? Doing him? I didn’t enjoy the thought of Ash being with Sawyer in any capacity, especially one that involved them both naked.
“Still, she chose to keep it from you.” Travis let out a sigh, closing his eyes as he tilted his head up to the sun. “Ash picks and chooses what she tells us. She’s a lot better at this game than I thought she was.”
Game? What game was Travis going on about? I had no idea, so I asked, “What game are you talking about?”
“This,” Travis spoke. “Us. Everything about us.”
“Our lives are not a game,” I growled out. Travis, no matter what he said, always seemed to get under my skin. But then again, maybe that was our murky past talking. “Ash isn’t playing us.” As I said it, I hoped it was true. If it turned out Ash had been stringing us by all along…I’d be crestfallen. Crushed completely. Heartbroken in every way.
Travis met my stare with a smirk of his own. “I hope you’re right, because I have the feeling that things are going to get worse around here before they get better.”
I found myself asking something I shouldn’t, something I shouldn’t even be aware of, “Do you really care for her, or is it some…game to you, too?” I used his own word choice against him, waiting with bated breath for his response. I didn’t know if I could trust a single word he said, but I was going to do my best to wade through the bullshit.
“For her, I’d do anything,” Travis remarked. “She’s everything I need that I never knew I needed. She’s unique in every possible way, and I’ll be damned if I let her push me away.”
“I’m not going to lose to you this time,” I said, meeting him head-on. His azure stare held mine, neither of us looking away. Who would look away first? Who would bend first? It might’ve been me in the past, but this time, for Ash, I would stay strong, no matter the storm around me.
“Well, then, I suppose we both should try to get back into her good graces,” Travis suggested. “Or find out what’s really bugging her.”
Getting back into her good graces, figuring out what bothered her, would be tough, let alone trying to do it while Travis sought to do the same thing. Still, I meant what I said and I said what I meant.
I wasn’t going to give up on Ash.
Chapter Nine – Ash
They let me out of the hospital exactly twenty-four hours after I’d woken up, true to their word, as much as a hospital could be. They had me sign all of my discharge papers and then gave me back my clothes—and a fancy new phone that had all of my pictures and contacts imported—and when I asked about the bill, they said not to worry about it. It was already taken care of.
I said nothing to that, figuring it was mostly Dean Briggs. Declan was to thank for the phone, and the medical bills being paid for was thanks to the dean of HU. Dean Briggs had stopped by my room again to tell me Will was still recuperating from the surgery, but everything went well. He also told me I didn’t have to go to classes this week, that he’d personally talk to my professors so they wouldn’t mark me absent and take away a percentage of my grade, but I told him I’d be fine.
And I would be.
I’d go to class, get back into the swing of things. Back to putting Declan at arm’s length. Back to pretending I didn’t have feelings for twisted, tattooed Travis and drunk, disgusting Sawyer. Pretty faces did not mean I had to crush on them. Pretty faces hid pretty lies, and I really didn’t need any more lies in my life right now. My lies were more than enough.
Once I was dressed in my own clothes, I left the hospital. I had a prescription in my pocket for pain meds—because the doctor was right, my body felt a hell of a lot worse today than it did yesterday—but I wasn’t going to get it filled. Partly because I didn’t know where the nearest pharmacy was, and also partly because I didn’t have cash. Granted, I was certain there was a pharmacy in the hospital, and that if I asked, they could just bill Dean Briggs for that, too.
But no. I was done being the charity case. I might be the poorest student at Hillcrest, but I was done accepting handouts. I was done being nice.
And believe it or not, the Ash prior to Saturday night was the nice one. Now? Now I would be mean. Now I would match the bullying with equal if not worse measures of bullying. If Ray was here, following me, stalking me, then he’d see that I had no boyfriends. No guys competing for my attention and my love. No guys claiming my body as theirs.
Ray had to be happy with that, right? Hell, even after dating him for three years, I didn’t know how his mind worked. I thought I could read people so well, but he was an enigma wrapped in a deadly riddle, and I’d been there for it all throughout high school—but now I wanted it to end.
I walked back to campus, my arms folded over my chest. It took a while, since the hospital wasn’t right down the street, but it was cheaper than taking a taxi or an Uber. And, besides, my body needed some physical activity after being in a hospital bed for the last twenty-four-plus hours, besides bathroom breaks. This time, I made sure to only cross the road at crosswalks and also to make sure no cars were coming.
If Ray was here, if I hadn’t imagined him, then he was always nearby. I threw a look over my shoulder, glancing at the street to my left. Monday morning, and the four-lane road was full of cars. Ray could be in any one of them, or he could be behind me.
I threw a look behind me, mentally adding, nope. Not there.
I was fucked. There were no other words for it. Royally fucked, and not in the good way. It was one thing to be lost in the dark machinations of a group of rich boys, boys who had nothing better to do than to bully each other and make their lives miserable, but a different thing entirely when Ray was thrown in.
Ray meant death and blood. Ray meant the darkest of the dark. No high school pranks. No forcing a girl to dye her hair pink and then fucking her while thinking of me. No ill-sent texts meant to rile the receiver up. Ray didn’t know what playing cool meant. With him, it was all or nothing.
Did these rich boys even watch the news? I’d be the first to admit, I’d stopped after I heard news he was arrested and charged with sixteen counts of murder. At Hillcrest, sitting down and watching the news, or even Googling it, was the last thing on my mind. But these guys—Declan, Will, Travis, and Sawyer—none of them knew who my ex was. I bet none of them had even heard his media name: the Midtown Strangler.
A serial killer, in other words. I’d dated—and fucked—a goddamn serial killer…and unlike some people I knew online, I didn’t get off on that. I might like the danger, the tall and dark men who oozed an air of mystery and risk, but actually being with someone, knowing they had blood on their hands…two totally different things.
I wasn’t someone who got off on it. In fact, after living through what I did, I’d be happy with a normal boyfriend. Someone like Declan; someone who I could never have now because my past had finally caught up with me. Ray would make sure I could never have Declan or Will, or even Travis and Sawyer, if it came to it. They’d all die, so it was better to push them away and not give Ray any ideas.
Ray had enough terrible ideas on his own.
