Page 53 of Crush

“You can protect her…” Julie whispers quickly. Her eyes are downcast, her lips barely moving. She moves to Father’s side, not daring to say anything else.

Hell, she’s so hopped up on pain pills that I’m lucky she got that much out. And with the expression on her face, it’s easy enough to read the rest of her sentence. You can protect her … the way Malcolm couldn’t protect me.

My mind races back to earlier this week, when I learned of Aurora’s attack on Ember. I saw red. Was blinded by it. It was only when I was assured by the venomous bitch herself Ember wasn’t violated that spots of clarity cleared up the blood in my vision. I was willing to avenge Ember, then. Able to put myself in front of her, sending the message that Ember was not to be touched by anyone but me.

But protect her? Come to her aid before she needs it? That’s not an ability I’ve ever had to master, regardless of how much I’m drawn to her body, scent, and warmth. She is the butterfly, and I am the spider. It’s impossible for us to be anything but predator and prey.

I grunt at my parents’ backs as they leave the room as if that’s enough to answer Julie’s plea.

Then I think of Ember’s wide eyes and how she clutched the lapels of my blazer in Winthorpe’s courtyard, relieved, terrified, and finding safety in me.

I whirl, and all the pent-up energy in my fists is transferred to the irreplaceable Pollard Oak dining table. A piece of it splinters off into my knuckles at my fury.

Fuck, these Weatherbys really need to learn how to handle their own shit before I die doing it for them.

23

Ember

With Malcolm’s black Amex in hand, I decide to choose my own dress this time.

It was a quick text, asking him if I could go into town and find a costume for Halloween as well as other day-to-day outfits. I didn’t come to Raven’s Bluff with much, and while he tried to fill up the walk-in closet of one of his guest rooms, I’m fairly certain he’s aware by now that pastel skirts and cardigans don’t match my style.

So it comes as no surprise when he responds that Dash will hand me one of his spare credit cards.

A spare credit card. Rich people will forever boggle my mind.

Aiko accompanies me to the main strip that afternoon, her little red Beetle buzzing around the narrow winding roads and thick, towering evergreens until we reach the bluff that Raven’s Bluff is known for, featuring shops, cafes, and a fisherman’s wharf down below selling steamed lobsters and clam chowder by the pound.

We find parking in front of Raven’s Buzz, the coffee shop I’m becoming a regular at. Aiko parallel parks like a pro, and we step out into the foggy air, where I take a deep, meditative breath.

Texting Malcolm wasn’t all that hard. It was the thinking behind my eyes that hurt the most. Do you know what happened to Savannah? was at the tip of my thumbs, until I rationalized that this is a question better left in person.

That didn’t stop me from exploring Weatherby Manor in more detail last night, attempting to memorize each nook and cranny, wondering if Savannah lay behind the bricks.

I rid my head of the thought. The wailing at night is from the wind—not her. Malcolm must have an explanation. Maybe Savannah interned at his company one summer, and it’s what Aiko says it is—a business spreadsheet.

“Can you tell me more about how Savannah was before she disappeared?” I hold the door to the cafe open for Aiko to pass through first. Shopping isn’t something I’m terribly good at. I need caffeine to give me the energy some people are just gifted with.

“Like, her personality?”

I nod, standing with Aiko in line. By Raven’s Bluff standards, this is a nice day to be outside, and the town is bustling with errand-runners and tourists alike.

“She was preoccupied, for sure.” Aiko nibbles her lower lip in thought. “I always assumed it was because of the—uh, you know, them—and their challenges. They summoned her at the most ridiculous times, like dawn or midnight or heck, in the middle of a school day. She constantly left our conversations unfinished because she checked her phone and had to go.”

“You’re sure it was them?” I ask under my breath. The entrance bell jingles behind us, and two men join the line.

“What else would cause her to drop everything?” Aiko responds.

“Thorne might,” I try reasoning. “You said they were dating, right?”

“Yeah, but … Savvy would get this look on her face when it was Thorne talking to her, or texting, or even glancing her way. It wasn’t the same as when they spoke to her. Oh. Sorry.” Aiko winces as she glances up at me. “I know you and he…”

“Me and him nothing.” I hedge forward as the line shortens, bringing Aiko with me. “Tonight’s about making him suffer, not turning him on.”

“Why can’t it be both?” Aiko laughs at her own joke, too forced to be natural. She’s thinking about Savannah and Thorne. Maybe she’s even pondering what life would be like right now if Savannah were beside her instead of me. I can’t blame her.

I also can’t forget about that spreadsheet. It’s not something Savannah would sit at her computer and write. She was documenting times, entrance and exits, as well as locations. Real-time observations. She could’ve used a notebook and then transferred her writing to a computer, but this is the modern age. No kid wanders around with scrap paper. It’s all about their phone. She must’ve synced her phone and laptop together—

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