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Chapter 31
Mackenzie
It’s been impossible to sleep.
My eyes are gritty, and my body is exhausted, but my brain refuses to switch off. I toss and turn, getting more and more frustrated with my inability to sleep. It’s still dark outside, though it’ll be light soon. It’s too early for much of the university to be awake, but I can’t bring myself to just sit in my room. I’m sick of the sight of these four walls.
I’ll grab my yoga mat and head down to the den. There’s a television down there, so I’ll do some yoga, and then curl up on the couch and watch something mindless for an hour or so until the rest of the world wakes up.
I use the bathroom, and then dress in a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt before slipping my feet into my sneakers. It feels strange making my way through the corridors when everyone else is sleeping. The thought that this place might be haunted tries to push itself into my mind, and I shiver. A girl had been killed here, hadn’t she? And what about Domenic’s mom? Maybe she still wanders these corridors in the early hours?
I can’t imagine anyone could have done something so dreadful to be forced to suffer that as an eternal punishment. At least when I slip through into the cafeteria there are the sounds of delivery trucks outside and people talking.
I hunker down as I head deeper into the bowels of the building, clutching my rolled-up yoga mat as though it might give me some protection. I’ll be fine once I get into the den, but I don’t like this part of the university.
From farther down the corridor come echoey shouts, followed by a crash and a scuffle.
It’s coming from the den.
Fuck.
I drop my mat and break into a run. Kirill’s warning rings in my ears. He said that me telling Dom and Tino would cause a war. Of course, he didn’t consider that it’s his proposal that’s blown everything up, rather than me telling them. They were going to find out eventually.
I burst through the door and pull up short. Kirill and Dom are in the middle of the room. At first, I think they’re hugging, and then wrestling, but as I catch a glimpse of blood, it dawns on me that they’re fighting. Frantically, I try to make out which one of them is bleeding, but I can’t decipher who it belongs to.
“Stop it!” I cry. “Stop, both of you!”
But they barely seem to notice me. Both are swinging for each other, letting out yells of rage and pain. They’re blind and deaf in their fury. A table has been knocked over, a lamp smashed, a book torn, the pages scattered across the floor. They’re too evenly matched. Kirill is an excellent fighter, but Dom has all that dark rage buried inside him, and now Kirill is on the receiving end of it.
Kirill brings his knee up into Dom’s abdomen. Dom folds over but straightens, grimaces, then rushes forward, his shoulder connecting with Kirill’s sternum.
They crash to the ground, a tangle of limbs and violent rage. Dom swings his fist, clocking Kirill in the jaw, and Kirill hits him right back.
They’re fighting over me. I’m responsible for this shit. I tremble with horror at what I’m witnessing.
It hurts seeing them like this. I feel every blow as though I receive it myself. I try to get in between them, but it’s impossible, as they’re so close. I’m going to end up with a fist in the jaw if I’m not careful.
I need help.
I spin on my heel and run back the way I’ve just come, no longer paying any attention to the dark or the creepy corridors. I take the stairs two at a time. My lungs are tight, my heart thumping, but I push myself until I reach Tino’s room.
“Tino?” I bang on the door. “Valentino? I need you. Open up.”
There’s no sound from behind the door. Is he even in there? If he isn’t, where the hell would he be? I know he’s not in the den. The horrible thought that he’s with another woman—maybe even Verity—jumps into my head. It’s not like we ever said out loud that we’re exclusive. I push it away because right now I have more important things to focus on.
I hold back a sob. “Please, Tino. Open the door.”
Tino’s neighbor—the same one who told me the Devils like to break their toys—opens his door instead. He frowns. “Everything okay?”
“No. Have you seen Tino?”
“Yeah, he went into his room a few hours ago. I haven’t heard him leave.”
I use my phone to call him, wondering why I hadn’t tried that to start with, but he doesn’t answer.
“Listen,” his neighbor says. “Call him again.”
I do, and I realize what he’s talking about. Tino’s phone is ringing inside the room. Just like the rest of us, Tino never goes anywhere without his phone. If his cell is in there, so is he.
