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Until she was alone in the hallway.
Her heart sped up. She looked around, and didn’t see anyone. Her instinct was to reach for her phone, but it wouldn’t do her any good unless she hit someone with it.
She raced toward the ballroom, head on swivel, barely able to hear anything over the sounds of her ragged breathing. In her mind, she went over all the self-defense moves she knew. And she knew them well. She and Damon had demonstrated them countless times at school assemblies and televised interviews.
Hopefully it would be enough. There were only so many places she could run to and hide.
And going outside was out of the question in the storm.
ChapterTwenty-One
Damon entered the ballroom then took a quick head count. About half the guests were still there. So much for warning everyone to return to their rooms. At least he’d seen Bella to her room, and Ariana was making sure little Alonzo got back to his parents.
People gathered in small groups. A few people picked at the remaining food while others were clearly arguing.
Damon went over to Javier, who was pacing by a window that kept lighting up from the storm outside. “Can I do anything?”
Javier turned to him. He ran a hand through his hair, grabbed a fistful, gave a tortured tug. “All of this is my fault.”
“What?” Damon exclaimed. “How do you figure?”
“I was the one who convinced Mateo to do that stupid prank last night. He pretended to die, and now he’s really dead!”
“It’s only a coincidence.”
“How can you say that?” Javier lowered his hand then picked at a nail that needed a trim. “The killer obviously went after him because of that. Everyone was pissed about the fake drowning — we haven’t heard the end of it all day — and somebody killed Mateo because of it.”
“That’s a stretch.”
“Is it? Because it looks like an obvious hit to me. I never should have given him the idea. It was stupid! But since we always used to play pranks with Grayson, it seemed like a good idea at the time. You know, like a nod to the past? If only I’d never gotten the thought in the first place.”
Damon grasped Javier’s shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself. The only person responsible is the one who killed him.”
“It should’ve been me lying there in a pool of blood.”
“Don’t say that.”
Javier’s brows drew together. “Why not? He didn’t deserve it. His life is actually going somewhere. I’m just a waiter. What am I accomplishing?”
“First of all, your job isn’t your worth. Second, you’re alive, and everyone is glad for that. Nobody wishes harm on you.”
“You don’t know that,” Javier muttered, and faced the window again.
“I guarantee your family is glad you’re still here.”
“You don’t know any of them.”
“But you—”
“I need to be alone.” Javier stepped closer to the glass, fully turning his back to him.
“It shouldn’t have been you.” Damon hesitated, wanting to say more but not knowing what. Finally, he walked away, giving Javier his space.
There were several arguments around the room. People were circled up, and the tension was visible.
Damon turned to the nearest person. Grayson’s cousin? It was so hard to keep track of who was related to who. “Did anyone find Rita’s grandma yet?”
The guy gave him a blank look. “I wouldn’t know. Can you believe Javi’s showing his face in here? He and Mateo are probably faking the death again.”
