Page 57 of Endless Anger
I’m not sure what I’m expecting to happen. Maybe for her to get angry or sad. It’s unlikely that she’ll hit me but not totally out of the realmof possibility, I suppose. In the three years since I saw her last, maybe her aversion to violence has changed.
Shedidalmost assault Foxe after all.
I think she wanted to hit me in Lethe’s that night too.
What I don’t expect is for her eyelids to flutter or her forehead to break out in a sheen of sweat. But when Keats shimmies his way out from behind a stack of boxes, reality seems to slam in on her at once. She collapses before she can say anything more, and I dive forward, catching her so she doesn’t hit her head.
Her skin is warm and clammy to the touch. It must be the shock finally catching up. Or maybe the oxygen deprivation from my choke hold earlier.
I should probably call my dad to double-check.
One shoulder of her cardigan is falling off, so I push it over her arm to try and cool her down.
Cradling her unconscious form to my chest, I steel my jaw and guide us to the floor. Eyeing Foxe, I lift a brow. “You didn’t call the cops, right?”
“Do I look like an idiot?”
Turning my attention back to Lucy, I don’t reply. Instead, I slump against the wall, gently stretching her so she can comfortably put her head in my lap. She’ll bitch about the contact when she wakes, but whatever.
It’s the least she can do after ignoring all my calls and texts for years. As if I was the only one who broke our friendship into tiny pieces.
Fuck. No, that’s not true. The end of our relationship was a joint effort, but only one of us lit the match, and it wasn’t Lucy.
She wouldn’t have done that.
I should’ve never let her come here alone.
Sighing, I lean my head back, listening to the sound of her breathing. “Well, thanks for coming with. I know going out in public isn’t always the easiest thing for you to do.”
Foxe shrugs, lifting the book again to hide his face. Keats hops onto the bed, curling against his side and purring loudly. “Couldn’t let you hog Lulu like you did when we were kids.”
I grunt. “Sure it has nothing to do with a certain blond who goes to school here?”
“Nope. Although you’ll probably want to call her and let her know you stole her cousin. She’ll come looking for her soon enough.”
He snaps the book shut, throwing it at his feet, and scrambles up from the bed. Traipsing to the door, he wrenches it open, checking the hall before stepping out into it.
His hand grips the frame, and he leans back in with a ridiculous grin that shows both rows of straight, white teeth. “By the way, I didn’t call the cops, but I definitely contacted someone on your behalf.”
Freezing as I push hair out of Lucy’s face, I look up, my heart hammering. “Who?”
“I called your dad.”
Lucy still hasn’t wokenwhen students start returning from the party, completely unaware of the danger in their midst. When I get back from my shower, I watch through the square window on the far wall as they filter into the dorms across the yard, giggling and stumbling without a care in the world.
Idiots. Every single one of them.
Phantom sensations reverberate beneath my fingertips; I turn my hands over, seeing blood caked where I’ve scrubbed everything clean.
If Lucy knew what I’d been up to before I found her, she’d run for sure.
Now that I’ve got her back, I don’t want to risk that.
Eventually, I move her to my bed, telling Keats to keep her company as I kick my feet up in front of my desk, lean back in my chair, and call my father.
He answers on the first ring. “Asher.”
“Dad.”
