“No, you haven’t,” he says, but his smile is strained.
“Why are you lying to me?” I ask.
He turns to look me square in the eye. “I would never lie to you, Ella.”
My heart kicks into a gallop. “Then tell me why you have my class schedule,” I say, searching his eyes. “What aren’t you telling me?” My stomach twists and something clicks—Parker and Rose appearing everywhere I go. My paranoia. The feeling of being watched. “Have you been following me?”
Parker links his hands behind his head and tilts his face to the ceiling. “Can you please wait until Rose wakes up? Then I promise she’ll explain everything.”
“Explain it to me now.”
Parker doesn’t move any closer. “It’s difficult.”
I take a step toward him, my trembling hands tucked into my armpits, arms crossed over my chest like armor. “It shouldn’t be. Why can’t you ever give me a straight answer?” He looks back to the bedroom where Rose is resting, as if willing her to wake. “Parker. Answer me.” My voice is louder now, my pulse pounding in my ears.
“Because I don’t want to mess this up.”
“What are you talking about?”At what point did I start yelling?
He turns back toward me. “This,” he says, and he gestures between us. He opens his mouth as if to elaborate further, then snaps it shut.
“Parker, talk to me,” I beg.
“I can’t.” His eyebrows furrow, and he turns away from me. “Fuck!” he shouts. “I can’t do this again.”
“Again?” I march toward him, not stopping until my face is inches from his. “I knew it. We’ve met before. That’s why you’re in my dreams.”
He sucks in a sharp breath, his body still. “You need to leave. Now.”
“Parker, please.” I edge closer still and reach for his forearm, but he jerks away, as if my touch is toxic.
A thick vein pulses over the strained muscles in his neck. “Ella, you’re acting crazy,” he says, and I flinch.
Crazy. Mad Mari.Hearing those words from his mouth cuts much deeper than I care to admit, ripping open the tender scars I’m forever trying to mend.
“Go!” he yells.
Tears welling in my eyes, I fling open the door and run from the room.
11Rose
I awake in darkness with a cool hand pressed to my pounding forehead. A stifled groan leaves my throat and Parker mutters something, pulling his hand away.
I roll onto my side, and my stomach churns. Why do I have no memory of returning home from the bar? I bite the inside of my cheek, tasting copper.
“Parker?” I whisper. I push myself up and flick the light switch beside my bed. Light fills the room and I flinch, drawing my hand up to shield my face. Parker’s sitting on the floor, back resting against the desk, and his head in his hands. “Parker?” I repeat.
He raises his head, and hollow, bloodshot eyes stare back at me.
My throat constricts. “What is it?”
“There’s no way she’s going to help us now,” he mutters.
“What do you mean? What happened?” I groan. “What did you do?” I demand, and I’m hit with a flashback of Ella edging away from me, her eyes wide and shoulders tight. I suck in a sharp breath. “How much damage have I done?”
“Do you mean when you went mentally AWOL in the bathroom?” He lets out a sober laugh. “I think me calling her crazy and yelling at her to get out did more damage.”
I rub the bridge of my nose. “Wait, what? Why did you yell at her?”
