Page 95 of The Pawn

I'm here, but he isn't, which should have been enough to make the world stop moving. On and on it goes without him. Every day I grow older that he doesn't get to live is stolen. Happiness, joy, love—all impossible without him here to see me feel it.

I dry my tears. Tilt my chin back and force the unspilled ones down. Then I promise these boys, these ruthless, fearless, shocked silent boys, "Iwillend you for what you did to him."

I try to turn around and walk away.

But a hand takes my wrist and pulls me back. I expect to look up and into Cole's green eyes, but instead it's Tanner's gaze staring at me. The emotions I see on his face make me tremble: sadness, grief, regret, and even a bit of what might be admiration.

He tells me, "I'm sorry about your brother. We all are," and I almost believe him. Until he adds, "But you should go now and never come back."

I try to jerk my hand out of his grip so I can slap him, too, but he very quickly and cleverly grabs both my wrists and holds them together, shaking his head.

"Uh-uh. Not so fast. You won't be bruising me like you bruised Blake." I cut my eyes over at the other boy, who's rubbing a spot on his jaw that's turning a dark red. Triumph fills me, even though I feel a stab of regret that I stooped to violence. "You stuck your nose in a hornet's nest. Shit all over us on social media if you want—I honestly don't give a fuck. It'll be a cold day in Hell when I care about Senator Connally's run for President. But stay the fuck away from solving mysteries, you hear me? Especially when it comes to the dead."

"If you mean that girl in Cole's truck, she deserves justice." I manage to twist out of Tanner's grip and jump away before he grabs me again, using a trick the coach at Wayborne taught all us girls. "However she died,someoneis going to find out. And you're going down for it," I tell Cole, "along with therestof you if you've covered it up."

Cole frowns in my direction, then runs a hand through his hair. "If you're going to be like that, you might as well know the truth. The thing that happened with the girl was—"

To my shock, Lukas tackles him, throwing him halfway off his feet in a single smooth motion. Cole manages to recover, and turns on his friend, shoving him back. Tanner steps in and tries to break them up—or rile them up, it's hard to tell—while Blake just moves smoothly back.

I'm so tired. Completely exhausted.

I let the fire out of me, and now I have nothing left to burn.

So I turn around to leave, just as the storm starts up again. Maybe when I'm back in my room I'll understand what just happened. I can lick my wounds, prepare for finals, and figure out what to do about this wretched place and its terrible boys.

Their voices chase me, but I run through the storm, carelessly careening into the dark. They try to follow me, but the ground is slick, and their dress shoes are perfectly polished. My bare feet may be aching and bruised, but it's no worse than any other day at the riverbank, running on stones with my teeth gritted, desperately chasing after my brother.

Two halves of a whole, irrevocably split.

I'll never be unbroken again.

I run all the way to the edge of campus, towards the gates, like I think I might ever be free of this place. Grief consumes me; tears blur my vision. I'm barely even aware how far I've run.

So I barely notice when I see the car coming. Running into the road, I stumble and fall down on my knees, and for a moment I think it's going to hit me.

Headlights blind my eyes.

Brakes screech.

I hold my hand up, as if to ward the car off.

It stops right in front of me, inches from my face. The white light of the headlights is blinding. Someone curses and rushes out of the car. A man puts his hands beneath my elbows and pulls me up. Another man, a tall figure I can barely see through spots in my vision, gets out of the driver's side and stares at me.

"You okay? You came out of nowhere."

I'm about to answer when the man staring at my face says, "Holy shit. It's her. Talk about a lucky day."

"Oh yeah?" The hands that were supporting me suddenly snake around my waist and pull me tight against a strong chest. I instinctively kick and squirm, but a hand comes up to cover my mouth and pinch my nose shut. "Hush now, little girl. No one is going to hurt you."

"Yet."

As spots dance across my vision, I try everything I can to get free. I kick, scratch, slap, and struggle. But another set of strong arms grabs me and holds me tight. The hand choking off my air increases its pressure.

Eventually, I succumb.

The last thing I hear is, "I wonder where she put that damned computer. Sal should've made sure it was destroyed in the tornado, along with everything else."

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