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Except for Heath.
Heath, with his customary smile that did little to thaw his ice-cold eyes.
Heath, with his acerbic wit that made me want to run into his arms and in the opposite direction in equal measure.
Heath, who’d told us exactly how to escape and then helped us every step of the journey.
“I wasn’t supposed to.” His voice was just as low as mine, a breathy murmur. “But then I saw you with Kelly, with the others, and I…I wanted to help. We’re allowed to give clues, allowed to push people in the right direction, but…” For the first time since I’d met him, he appeared lost and forlorn. A strand of brown hair fell into his eyes, but he didn’t lift a finger to push it away and slick it back into its normal, immaculate style. It was the only sign he was distressed.
“You didn’t answer the question,” I accused.
His lips curled downwards. “I don’t know what you want me to—”
“I just want some honest answers!” I threw my hands up into the air as tears burned my eyes, distorting my vision. “Maria’s dead! Dylan’s dead! And—” A sob exploded out of me, the noise as broken and shredded as my heart felt.
Through the glossy sheen of tears, I could’ve sworn Heath was crying as well, but I half wondered if I was imagining it. Heath didn’t strike me as the type of guy who broke down often, if at all. There was a harshness to him that not even his stunning, angelic features could contradict.
“I tried to save Maria—”
“You’re a damn reaper!” I whirled on him, pointing a finger at his chest. He took a step back as if I’d physically touched him, as if my finger had more strength than a fifty-pound weight.
“Not always.” His gaze turned distant, focusing on something over my shoulder. Everything about him screamed defeat, from his slumped posture to that wayward strand of hair in his eyes to the frown marring his handsome face. “I was actually a student at Tory’s School for the Troubled before I was chosen.”
His words stabbed at my brain like a flaming sword.
“What?”
“I was a student,” he repeated, lowering his gaze to the tops of his polished loafers. “Just like you and the others. And just like you and the others, I discovered something was…amiss.”
“Amiss.” My brain appeared to be broken. All I could do was mechanically repeat his own words back to him, praying that I made at least some sense.
“My friends and I…” He scratched absently at the back of his neck. “We planned to escape.”
Bits and pieces were beginning to penetrate the fog in my brain.
“That tunnel we found in the shed…” I instinctively took a step closer, my arms extended towards him before I realized what I was doing. I dropped them to my sides, though I didn’t stop my forward progression. “That was you and your friends?”
He nodded once, his jaw clenching so tightly, I was surprised he didn’t break a tooth. “My friends didn’t make it.” Sadness unfurled in his eyes at whatever memory his words conjured before his expression shattered and closed over. “And I was caught by the reapers.”
“No…”
His fingers tapped against his jeans, the abnormal movement drawing my attention. I couldn’t look away.
“I was a good student. I followed the rules, never caused any problems, and gained a following amongst the students. They offered me a choice.” Heath finally lifted his head and pierced me with a look that flayed me open. His pain was almost tangible, radiating through the air like waves of electricity. “I could either join my friends in the darkness…” A shiver rolled through both of our bodies. “Or I could join them as a reaper.”
“And you chose to become a reaper,” I noted.
“Not at first.” He shook his head slowly, a tiny crease surfacing between his eyes. “But I didn’t really have a choice, you know? I didn’t want to die.” He forked his fingers through his hair and moved to sit down heavily on the couch. He dropped his head into his hands, his entire body shaking with tiny tremors. “To become a reaper, I had to forget about my life before death. Fuck, doll.” His head snapped up abruptly, his eyes rife with pain and frustration. “I can’t remember anything about my life before I arrived here.”
“How long…?” I trailed off, unsure of what I even wanted to ask.
Fortunately, Heath picked up on what I couldn’t say out loud. A ragged, tired laugh escaped him, one devoid of any humor or mirth. “How long have I been here?” His gaze focused on the television, though I had the strangest sense he was seeing right past it. “Over twenty years, it feels like. I have no idea how long I’ve been dead. It could be only a few minutes. It could be days, months, or even years.”
“Heath…” Helplessness sank its teeth in me, even as betrayal filled my veins, caustic and bitter.
“I was supposed to keep an eye on the students. Befriend them. Discover their secrets.” He laughed once more. The smile carved into his mouth was weary and grim, the crack in his apathetic expression as visible as it’d ever been. He was an astute and wise monster, one whose harshness was juxtaposed by the fragility he was currently displaying.
“Heath, I need to know.” I took another step closer. “Why are you helping us? Why did you help me?”
