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Remi
I bolt upright, my eyes flying to the window. “Ace?” I whisper-hiss, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. “What the hell?”
“I needed to see you.”
The clock reads after one and the pit in my stomach deepens. “What did you do?” I ask, my gaze narrowing.
Something’s wrong.
I know it is. If it weren’t for the dread snaking through me, I know Ace well enough by now to know all his facial expressions.
“Do you trust me?” His voice is cold. Another warning sign.
Pushing back the covers, I climb out of bed and go to him. His dark, sleeveless hoodie is pulled up over his head. Ominous and foreboding.
“I did... until you spent all day avoiding me and then climbed through my window in the middle of the night after failing to show up earlier.”
Guilt sparks in his eyes.
“This is about Michaela, isn’t it?” It’s the only explanation. Ever since he texted me two nights ago saying he had a plan, I’ve been on edge.
The avoidance tactics.
The middle of the night appearance.
It all points to her.
And honestly, I’m not sure I want to know the truth.
He drags a hand down his face, scrubbing his jaw, and I can practically see his brain working overtime. He’s trying to figure out how much to tell me.
He’s trying to weigh up whether to lie or tell me the truth.
“Well?” I snap, indignation sizzling in my veins.
“At Hayden’s the other night... he and Cole got into it. Cole was in a bad place...”
Ace isn’t telling me anything I don’t already know. Unlike his brother, Conner actually talked to me at school yesterday.
“Ace, just get to the point. I’m tired, and I have to get up in five hours.”
“I just needed to see you,” he says again, as if it fixes everything.
Without warning, Ace pulls me into his arms, locking them tight around my body. His face drops to my shoulder as he breathes me in.
“Ace, you’re scaring me,” I confess. It’s like having the old Ace back—the Ace who was so cold and cruel and played games like it was an Olympic sport.
“Just promise me, Remi. Promise me that it’s you and me...” His voice trails off and I jerk back, tearing from his hold.
“I swear to God, Ace. If you don’t tell me what the fuck you did, I will—“
“Just trust me.” His guilt-ridden expression softens. “You have to trust me.”
“You’re making that a little difficult when you’re talking in riddles. Did something happen with Michaela?” He stiffens at the mention of her name but doesn’t answer. My blood runs cold, trickling like ice down my spine.
“I told you I had a plan...” The pain etched in his expression twists something inside me.
“That’s all you told me, and now you’re here in the middle of the night acting like the world is about to end. Just tell me what happened.”
