Page 38 of Endless Anger
“Pretty sure Mom and Dad give you the same allowance they give me and Q.”
“Do you want a copy of my receipts or what?” she snaps. “LA is expensive, and so are headshots and agent retention fees and networking dinners. Do you have money or not?”
Annoyed, I shove my fist into my pocket and draw out a wad of cash. I start to sift through the bills, but she leans over the seat and snatches them all.
“This is perfect!”
“That’s several hundred bucks.”
“Should’ve held a tighter grip!” she sings, hopping out and slamming the driver door shut.
I check my phone again. Still no messages. This is going to be a long fucking night.
Six goddamn hours later,and we pass a stoneWelcome to Fury Hillsign before entering the city limits of a town I haven’t visited in years.
Not since I was fourteen.
I didn’t go at all when Lucy toured. That should’ve been her first red flag.
Though I suppose blaming her isn’t fair when I was stringing her along with false promises the entire time.
“What the hell are we doing here?”
Noelle’s wrists are draped lazily over the steering wheel as she navigates the town’s main two-lane highway. “Well, it’s the end of the first month of the semester. I thought we could pop in and say hi.”
My stomach churns. “To whom exactly?”
“We only know two current students…”
I clench my fists. “No. Absolutely not, Noelle.”
“Oh please!” she whines, drooping her shoulders. “You guys need to talk. You’re making holidays awkward.”
“I’ve not been attending holidays.”
“Precisely! Mom’s miserable.”
Thick trees blur past the car windows as she turns onto College Road, the central activity hub in the small town. Most of the residents live much farther out, packed within the mountains or the forest, as if they don’t want to be bothered by campus life.
I can’t blame them. Not when it’sthisschool.
Noelle pulls into a lot in front of a small brick building. Strobe lights flicker inside, visible through the frosted windows, and a blinking green neon sign hangs off the front awning, clutching the fabric for dear life.
Lethe’s.
“Just one conversation,” Noelle says, shutting off the vehicle’s engine with a nod.
My jaw works from side to side, and I rub at it, my head pounding in anticipation. “Fine. But if anyone touches me, we’re out of there.”
“Please,” she snorts. “Like you’re that hot of a commodity.”
I turn my hands over in my lap; the bloodstains are long gone by now, but I can still see their shadow. No matter how many times I’ve washed them since, the memory of what happened five years ago never fades away.
Glancing over at her, I think back to what Dad said about there being two corpses he had to clean up that day, and then to Quincy’s words of caution.
Does Noelle know more than she lets on? Is that why she wants me in contact with Lucy—because she’s afraid for her too?
Shoving open the passenger door, I stretch my legs and climb out.
