Page 21 of Atone

I doubt the Lancasters have to abide by those kinds of rules, given the amount of money Alex’s familythrows at everything. One of the wings at Montgomery is named after them.

The maze of hallways is quiet, and I follow the path by heart.

Most doors are closed this time of night, but when I reach Alex’s, I find it isn’t. It’s either an invitation or a dare when being here is a bad idea for so many reasons.

Sigma Sin breeds nothing but trouble, and here I am stepping into the center of it.

They might have broken Alex’s mind with what they did, but he’s still one of them. That much was clear when I passed Declan in the parking lot after dropping off the book to Alex.

Patience hates the fraternity that put her brother in this place, but Alex clearly still has ties to them.

My nerves start to buzz as I find the courage to step into Alex’s room, where he’s still sitting on the window seat. If he hears my footsteps, he doesn’t let it show. His expressionless gaze stays fixed out the window.

His bed is messy with the comforter half hanging on the floor and a corner of the fitted sheet ripped free. It’s clear he tried to sleep at some point tonight, but it must not have lasted long. His hair is messy, and there’s a sweat stain on his sheet that hints at nightmares.

I wonder how frequently he relives his trauma. How often the ghosts from his past visit.

Mine find me almost every night.

The thought stalls as I reach Alex at the window. When he doesn’t look at me or immediately hint that he wants me to leave, I take the spot opposite him on the bench. Leaning against the frame with one foot tucked under my opposite leg, I follow his gaze to the nearly empty parking lot.

Clouds hang heavy in the sky, blanketing the corner ofthe moon. Darkness deepens with every gust, until the only light is the dim glow of the streetlamps. I tasted rain in the air at the carnival, so it’s only a matter of time before the clouds release what I can’t.

Alex works his hand into a fist. Tightening it until his forearm shakes. He does it again and again, but only on the scarred side of his body.

“You’re probably wondering why I’m here,” I say when the break in the clouds lights up our faces. “Honestly, I don’t know why I came. One second, I was at the carnival, and the next…”

The next… what?

Oxy was pinning me against my car. He was calling me a whore for spending time with the man sitting in front of me now. One who barely looks at me, much less anything else.

Alex’s eyes slide my way when I don’t finish my sentence, and his gaze is downright haunting. Only half present. He might still be battling whatever demons woke him in the middle of the night.

His stare holds mine, flicking between my eyes. Tracing the ridge of my cheek and down my jaw. Pausing at my lips.

The gap between us shrinks even if neither of us moves. He doesn’t need to touch me for me to feel him.

Slowly, Alex’s stare dips down farther, until he’s focusing on my blood-splattered jeans.

The constant flex of his fingers pauses, and his shoulders stiffen. Without a word, his hazel eyes meet mine in a question, and the rage I sense lives inside him slices through the night.

“You should see the other guy.” I breathe out a laugh, trying to make light of the situation, but my joke falls flat. “Seriously though, don’t worry. It’s not my blood. I’m perfectly capable of defending myself.”

Maybe that’s not much better because why should I have to? Why can’t people keep their hands to themselves?

Alex’s stare ices over. The green in his gaze is eaten up by his dark pupils. Leaving nothing more than black pools that tempt me as much as they scare me the longer I look into them.

“Really, Alex, I’m fine.” I try to reassure him, but the tension in his shoulders has yet to dissipate. “It was a misunderstanding in the carnival parking lot. And trust me—he got what was coming to him. I don’t need anyone to protect me.”

I don’t need anyone but myself.

Something about Alex’s expression tells me he doesn’t believe me. But the tick of his jaw says he’s letting it go for now.

I’m learning his reactions—possibly misinterpreting them. But at least I’m trying when that’s all the scraps he offers.

“You have a really nice view of the forest from up here.” I change the subject, turning back to the window. “It makes me wish the window in my bedroom didn’t just face a wall. But with how the dorms are positioned, there’s not much choice. Your sister was set on the room facing the courtyard, and since I was the only one who didn’t seem to care, I took what was left when Teal and Violet were done choosing.”

I’m rambling again. Alex seems to bring this out of me. Which almost makes me laugh because there’s no way he cares how I chose my bedroom in my shared dorm room. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t kicked me out yet.

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