37
LANDON
My head is a lead weight, throbbing in time with a slow, steady drip I can’t place. The first thing I’m aware of is the cold, unforgiving bite of metal against my wrists. The second is the scent of lavender and antiseptic. I blink my eyes open, the world swimming into focus in nauseating waves. I’m in a small, sterile-looking room, tied to a heavy wooden chair.
And Jane is crying.
She’s kneeling in front of me, her shoulders shaking, her pretty face streaked with tears. “Landon, oh my god, Landon,” she sobs, reaching out to touch my knee. “I’m so sorry. I tried to stop them, I really did.”
My mind is foggy, but my training kicks in.
Assess the threat.
De-escalate.
“Jane,” I say, my voice rough. “Hey, look at me. It’s okay. We’re going to be okay. Just untie me, and we can get out of here.”
She looks up, her eyes wide and glistening, and for a second, I see genuine fear. But something shifts. The tears stop. A slow, terrifying smile spreads across her face, twisting her features into a mask of pure, gleeful malice. The sobbing in her throat morphs into a low, bubbly laugh.
“You’re so sweet, Landon,” she says, her voice now smooth as silk, devoid of any trace of the hysterical girl from a moment ago. “Always the hero. I was so shocked when I first saw you at the hotel with Ryker. I really believed you were dead. My sister thought you were too. But she appreciated the insight your little ‘death’ gave us into Ellie’s state of mind.”
My blood runs cold. The connection clicks into place with the sickening finality of a cell door slamming shut.
Jane acted like she barely spoke to Aria, that the two were estranged. She feigned surprise, but this entire time…
She was on Aria’s side.
Probably feeding her information.
Telling her what we knew.
Jane led us straight to Aria’s apartment, knowing we would find jack shit there.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I knew I shouldn’t have trusted her—life has taught me the only people I can rely on are Mania and Ellie—but I thought she was Ellie’s friend.
Fuck.
“You,” I breathe, the word tasting like ash.
“Me,” she purrs, rising to her feet. She begins to unbutton her blouse, her movements slow, deliberate. “You know, I always had a massive crush on you. All that broody intensity. All that loyalty.” She lets the shirt fall open, revealing a simple lace bra. Her hand trails down her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her skirt. “I thought about you a lot, especially atnight. It’s a shame we have to kill you. We could have had so much fun.”
I strain against the ropes, the fibers digging into my skin, but it’s useless. I’m trapped.
A wave of disgust and fury so potent it makes me dizzy washes over me. This is what she is. This is what she’s always been. A monster in a pretty package.
New rule—Beckett will be required to do an extensive background check on all of Ellie’s potential friends.
Were Victoria and Piper a part of this too? I refuse to believe they all betrayed me, betrayed Ellie, betrayedus.
“Maybe I don’t have to kill you.” Jane takes on an edge that she probably thinks is seductive. Her lips push out in a pout that seems…genuine. “I never understood what was so special about Ellie. Why you five flocked around her like she has some sort of magical pussy.” Her features distort in disgust. “I thought, maybe, you just needed someone to save, a damsel in distress.” Her eyes glimmer, and she holds up her wrists, where I can see ragged scars marring the skin there. “I needed help, too, you know. But nobody ever saw me. Nobody cared. Everything revolved aroundEllie.” She spits the name like it’s poison.
“Jane.” I try to use my softest voice, hoping she can’t hear the rage underlying each word. “I’m sorry, I truly am. But this isn’t the way.”
Anger flares in her eyes, almost incandescent in intensity. “Why couldn’t you notice me?Why?Why is it always about her? Even my own sister chose her over me.” She reaches for her bra strap, and I immediately avert my eyes.
What the fuck does she plan to do to me? Rape me? I don’t like killing women, but I’m not morally against it, like some of the others. If she lays a finger on me, I won’t hesitate to cut it off and stab her in the eye with it.
