Page 10 of Pretty Threats

As I turn, warning bells buzz my skull. How did he make me as the shooter? We’ve never even met. And as for War, Jamie, and I being on campus, we’ve kept our dark ties to ourselves. Jamie and I shouldn’t stand out more than other GU athletes.

War’s different, of course, because of his physical size. The only place he could blend in is in a movie about post-apocalyptic cyborgs. But War doesn’t spend much time on campus drawing attention to himself. So, again, how did I end up on the target’s radar?

Wilson is a disgraced frat boy who fled campus under a cloud because the FBI wants to talk to him about texts he exchanged with a serial killer. Wilson had gone to ground before I even hit town.

I’m gonna have to dig into who’s talking to frat guys about me.

For a brief second, I think of my stepsister’s vlog as a possible source, then I dismiss the idea. Raine doesn’t know enough to be the leak. Besides, she’s never spilled a single detail of anything she knows. Raine’s careful. She understands if someone betrays me, I destroy their life.

The source of the intel will be someone who knows I spent my summer vacation studying strategy under some original young blood gangsters. Maybe someone in C Crue talked. Doesn’t matter, I tell myself. Once Crue leadership knows there’s a leak somewhere, they’ll plug it.

And my being exposed is just the way things go sometimes. Occasionally, someone looks in your eyes and makes you for what you fucking are—ice cold and ready to prove it.

Rolling my shoulders, I decide to reframe the threat in my mind. If someone’s coming for me, it’s on. And this will be a new game for me. Usually, the prey doesn’t hunt back.

When I reach the ground floor, I nod at War that it’s done.

Just like that, I’ve made my bones in C Crue.

Of course, there’s something not even the Crue knows.

Executing Wilson brings my kill count up to two.

6

RAINE

Irub my eyes and sip a latte I got from the Moses dining hall last night. As I rewatch every vlog I’ve posted since arriving at GU, my frustration mounts. Killian could’ve told me which one he wanted taken down, but of course, that would’ve made things too easy.

There’s only one time when I mention that I come from a blended family, but I say all my step-siblings are a lot older. I purposely left Killian out.

There is absolutely nothing objectionable in any of my videos. The only thing I could do to delete the one Killian doesn’t like is take down all my content. But that would mean all the time I spent filming and editing would be for nothing. The video about my acceptance to GU where I laid out all the steps of the application process has gotten a ton of interest and engagement. I’m up to three-thousand likes on it, and a hundred comments. A lot of them were from high school seniors who want to apply. I don’t want to take that post away from people.

I kick the edge of my white plastic drawer cart in frustration, and my old snow globe falls onto the rug. I didn’t realize it was perched on the edge of the storage cart, and a soft gasp escapes my lungs. I reach across the rug to pick it up. Intact, thank God.

The words on the base are worn off from being constantly handled by little girl fingers. The Christmas tree souvenir came from Rockefeller Center when I was five. Until a couple of years ago, I kept it in the center of my dresser. Falling plastic snow inside it was my first indication that Killian was sneaking into my room at night. Later, I’d found it knocked on the floor. Fortunately, the weathered plastic didn’t crack, but I’d tucked it away in my sock drawer after that for safekeeping.

Now I have a new, beautiful snow globe made of dark brass that has built-in LED lights and a music box. I won it in a contest and absolutely love it. Yet, I’m still sentimental about my Rockefeller Center one.

Here in Meredith Hall, I don’t have as much storage as at home. After wrapping the old snow globe in a GU hoody for protection, I place it in the corner of a drawer.

I’m stiff from being hunched over my phone. After stretching, I walk to the edge of the rug to stand in front of my wall shelves. In the center, between stacks of books, is the expensive brass snow globe. Eyeing the carousel inside, I run a finger over the base. Killian handled this one, too. Sometimes, I would wake feeling cold and was greeted by the sound of tinkling music. I would know he’d come and gone through my window. Even when he wasn’t living at Marianne and my dad’s house, he came and went as he pleased.

Beautiful Killian. A nightmare and a dream rolled into one.

I blow out a breath and decide to break my rule of never texting him. When I open our text thread, I look at the one he sent me at one-thirty in the afternoon.

Killian: times up.

I clench my teeth. He’s such a jerk.

Killian wasn’t even supposed to be at GU. He was accepted to MIT, which is where he once said he wanted to go. I didn’t realize he’d even applied to Granthorpe. Now, suddenly, he’s here.

After rubbing my tired, burning eyes, I type a message to him.

Raine: Went thru GU posts. All seem fine. Which video do u want down?? Just tell me date n I’ll do it.

A return message from him pops up.

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