Page 31 of Atone

“Your cock accidentally found itself inside multiple other girls while we were dating?”

He winces like I’ve hit him.

Maybe I should.

“Don’t bother.” I pull out of his grip, and even if he lets me, he doesn’t back up.

Marco braces a hand on the bar behind me, raking his dark hair back with the other. I remember when his dark eyes were enough to fool me. How endless and deep they seemed to be. How I used to believe his tongue spun more than lies.

“We were good together,” he tries to remind me. “Remember that drive we took up north. I never talk to people like that.”

We drove all night, not heading anywhere in particular. It was the first time Marco and I had a full conversation. We talked about nothing and everything. He wasn’t like he is now, standing among his fraternity brothers. That night, he felt like a real person.

“I remember.” I swallow, and it feels like glass in my throat. “But it doesn’t change what you did.”

“If I’d have known we were that serious, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“You were my boyfriend. How is that not serious?”

He looks me over. “We hadn’t fucked yet.”

“Seriously? You’re blaming me for the fact that you cheated because I didn’t have sex with you?” I try to pull back, but he doesn’t let me.

“I’m just saying.” He leans close enough that his body presses against my side. “It could be different this time. We could both commit. Fully.”

His hand trails down my arm, and I shove him back a step. “I don’t want anything from you anymore, Marco.”

“When did you become such a bitch?” Marco leans in, smelling like whiskey and pot. “You think your new boyfriend is better than me?”

“What are you talking about? I don’t have a boyfriend.”

He smirks, lifting a lock of my brown hair and spinning it around his finger. “You sure about that?”

“Does this have anything to do with what Oxy said?” I remember his comment from the carnival and how he assumed I was fucking Alex.

“Funny you should bring up Oxy.” Marco’s jaw ticks. “Haven’t you heard what happened to him?”

“No.” My eyebrows pinch. “What happened?”

“He was brought into the hospital yesterday. One of the professors found him in the courtyard with a broken nose and thousands of small cuts all over his body.”

My heart races.

Yesterday?

I saw him walking to class the day before. He glared at me from across the courtyard, still sporting two fading black eyes from when I elbowed him in the nose at the carnival.

“Did he say what happened?”

“That’s the interesting part.” Marco leans so close his body heat is overwhelming. “He hasn’t said anything.He can’t.Seems his tongue was cut right out of his mouth.”

His words are a whisper that sends an ice-cold chill down my spine.

Marco pulls back, and my eyes widen.

“Sick, right?” Marco’s words don’t match the smirk that climbs his cheeks.

Amusement not fitting for the conversation we’re having.

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