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“Ash,” Declan whispered, pleading with the use of my name. The way my name sounded on his lips…God, I loved it, and I knew I shouldn’t.
“No,” I said again. “Now get off my bed so I can go to sleep.”
Declan gave me a strange look. “It’s not even nine o’clock yet.” As if time mattered when my whole world was crumbling around me. Silly boy.
“I don’t care,” I said. “My body hurts. I was hit by a car, remember?” Bringing that up would do it, I knew.
He flew off my bed faster than a horsefly buzzed around a horse in summertime, his back rod straight as he sent me an apologetic look. “Right. I’m sorry. I—I don’t know what came over me. I forgot.”
I gave him a frown before laying back down and turning over, once more giving him my back. I yanked the sheets over me, piling them high over my head so I was completely covered. It was only because I knew he couldn’t see me that I ran a finger over my lips, his sudden kiss replaying in my head.
I wasn’t strictly tired, but my body was exhausted. Sleep took me sooner than I thought it would, but if I said I had a restful night’s sleep before my return to classes, I’d be more of a liar than I already was. It wasn’t a good sleep. It was awful.
It was a nightmare that so closely resembled my life.
I stood in Sawyer’s house, standing in the living room. The furniture had been pushed aside, trash and empty red solo cups everywhere, as if a party had just been had. It was strange, because I couldn’t remember the party, nor could I recall exactly how I got here. I wasn’t alone, though.
No, I wasn’t alone, because I was hardly ever alone.
The chairs from the kitchen had been dragged out onto the carpet, each one holding up a man. Four rich boys, all lined up, their arms tied behind their backs and thick, wiry rope around their necks, strung to the ceiling. Their feet stood on the edge of the chairs. All it would take was one slip, one misstep, and they’d tumble off and hang themselves.
Will was on the left, looking healthy, in spite of the rope around his neck. His shoulders were squared, as if he was ready for whatever was going to happen. His brown hair was coiffed to the side, his hazel eyes heavy on me, wordlessly asking me to help him, to undo the rope that would strangle him if he stepped off the chair.
Beside Will, Declan stood. His expression was much sadder, his dark gaze on the floor. Declan, apparently, couldn’t even look at me. It was as if he’d already decided that I wasn’t going to help him, so he would just give up. Why bother fighting when things were so hopeless?
Next was Travis. He stood with the straightest back, a look that said don’t fuck with me written on his handsome face. His tattooed arms were pulled behind him, and I’d never seen him appear so helpless. Travis, the psycho of Hillcrest, helpless before me. It wasn’t a sight I ever thought I’d see.
Lastly, of course, was Sawyer. His hair was blonde, his green eyes dull as he stared at me. His muscled body looked a bit awkward in the position, and his usual half-smile was nowhere to be seen. “Fuck you,” he whispered. “You’re nothing. No one. You’ll die a no one, and when you do, no one will be there to visit your grave, you bitch.”
His words made me flinch and look away, and as I did, I spotted someone walking out of the nearby hallway, a glimmering knife in his hands. One hand held the grip, the other lightly touched the tip of the short blade.
Ray Ruiz.
Ray was a handsome man, with dark tan skin, a bit of gruff on his chin. His eyes were a light green, vibrant against his skin. Dark hair lined his head, its lengths cut short. He was thirty-five now, but he was just as attractive as he was years ago, when I’d first met him.
“There she is,” Ray spoke, practically gliding as he moved beside the line of guys. “My heart, my love. You know why we’re all here, don’t you?” His tone was laced with both adoration and animosity; he was not happy I’d gotten so close to these men.
I didn’t answer him, even though I knew the truth. Why we were here…it sure as hell wasn’t going to be pretty.
“You, amorcito, must choose.” Ray smiled, his teeth perfect and white. He wore the face of a killer, a madman, a psycho of epic proportions, and I’d fallen for every bit of it. I was stupid, and now I had to face the consequences of my choice. I ran from him, and now there was no running. No more hiding. It was far too late for that.
Ray wanted me to choose between these men, the ones who’d each claimed a part of my heart—the heart that had been absolutely shattered and broken when I found out just what kind of man he was.
I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came out. I stood five feet in front of the male lineup, and yet I was motionless, unable to say anything. My hands shook at my sides, and I felt my heart beating rapidly in my chest, almost as if it wanted to break through my lungs and ribcage and run away from this scene.
I…I couldn’t choose.
Ray waited a few moments, watching me with those lively eyes, before turning to the first one, Will. In a quick jerk of a movement, he plunged the knife directly into Will’s abdomen, causing Will to cry out and slip from the chair.
“No!” I cried, but it was too late.
Ray kicked the chair back, letting Will’s feet hang just a foot above the ground. Will’s body moved for practically half a minute, the blood oozing from his knife wound slowly coating his entire stomach, until he stopped moving altogether.
Will was dead, and it was my fault.
“There,” Ray said, slapping Will’s motionless body with the blood-stained knife. “That should make your decision a bit easier, no?” He sounded innocent, as if he didn’t just stab Will and hang him. As if this was fun, just a game to him.
And, I supposed, it was. He didn’t care about these guys. He knew I did. This was to get back at me for what I did to him all that time ago.
