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I can tell she wants to argue, but in the end, she just nods. “Okay, if that’s what you need to do.”
We leave the courthouse and make our way around the block, heading toward the carport where we parked. This morning, she tried to get us to ride together, but I needed some time to mentally prepare myself, so I asked if we could meet there.
“Do you have enough gas to get there?” Lila asks, already reaching for her wallet in her purse.
I lift my hand, motioning for her to stop. “I’m good. I just filled it up last week, but thanks.”
I hate when she gives me money. With everything going on, I haven’t been able to hold a steady job, though I do work for Lila’s catering business whenever I can so I don’t feel like a total charity case.
She sighs, zipping up her purse. “Promise me you’ll let me know as soon as you get there. And call me if you need anything, even if it’s just to talk.”
I nod. “Okay, I will.”
She looks worried as she turns toward her car parked a few rows away from mine.
I climb into my car and rest my head against the steering wheel, breathing in and out. The quietness surrounds me and starts to settle my anxiety as I remind myself that it’s over. I did my part at putting them behind bars.
The dead girl appears in the passenger seat. “It’s not over yet.”
Shaking my head, I press my back against the door. “What do you want from me?”
Her cold eyes bore into mine. “I already told you. I want you to make things right and make up for what you did to me.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “But I didn’t do anything to you.”
“You didn’t?” She leans forward, her bony fingers reaching for me. “Maybe you need to be reminded, then.”
Panic seizes my throat as I fumble for the door handle. Pushing the door open, I fall out of the car, landing on my ass.
“You can’t run from me!” she shouts as I scramble to my feet and run. “You can’t run from guilt, Sadie!”
Her words slam against my back as I sprint out of the carport and back around to the front of the courthouse. I briskly jog down the sidewalk, terrified to look behind me, fearing she’ll be there. With each step, frustration and anger builds, pressing, pressing, pressing against my chest. Guilt, rage, hate, it fuels me with too much energy. I just can’t figure out what I’m guilty and angry over.
My heart achingly hammers as my boots thud against the concrete. When I reach the curb, I veer right and sprint for the corner of the street. Stores and restaurants pass by in a blur as sunlight spills over me and sweat drenches my skin. I’m exhausted, my limbs and lungs throb, but I refuse to stop. I refuse to go backward. I worked too hard to get where I am, and I won’t let the dead girl pull me back.
Seeing the girl … It has to be from the stress. Yeah, that’s what it is. And tomorrow, everything will go back to normal.
I run like a mad woman for at least a couple of miles before my legs about give out on me. Then I slow to a stop in front of a corner shop and hunch over, bracing my hands on my knees. I breathe in and out, in and out, catching my breath before standing upright. I feel a tiny bit better, my mind less crammed and overworked.
I scan the sea of faces around me, searching for the dead girl in their midst.
“She’s gone,” I breathe in relief.
“You really think so?” she whispers from somewhere close.
“Why won’t you leave me alone?” I spin in a circle, desperately searching for her. “Please, leave me alone.”
“Not yet.”
Two very ominous words that send a deadly cold shiver up my spine.
“Sadie?” someone says from right behind me.
Startled, I whirl around, half-expecting the dead girl to be standing behind me. However, it’s only Sage Davis, the drummer in Ayden’s band, Alyric Bliss.
I’ve known Sage for almost two years, ever since I moved in with the Gregorys. I know him well enough that his presence brings me comfort. Still, he makes me slightly nervous. Not a terrified, he’s-gonna-hurt-me nervous, but a holy-shit-he’s-so-stinking-gorgeous-I-can’t-stop-staring-at-him nervous.
Tall and lean with crazy blue hair, countless facial piercings and tattoos, he drips sexiness and radiates confidence from the way he looks to how he carries himself. While he’s been nothing but nice to me, I find his confidence unnerving sometimes, mostly because I don’t know how to handle it.
“You scared me,” I tell him once my heart has chilled out. Meanwhile, the dead girl’s words remain inside of me, stirring like an uncontrolled beast. All I want to do is pick up where I left off and run until I’m convinced she can’t find me.
“Yeah, I can see that.” His gaze flicks up and down my body before his eyes land on my face, then he really looks at me. “Why’re you all dressed up? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s cute and everything, in that whole sexy librarian way, but it’s definitely different from how you normally dress.”
God, I loathe when he looks at me like that, as if he can see my secrets carved on my skin. Yet, the tiniest part of me soaks up the attention.
I spent years hating when guys paid attention to me, and then part of me suddenly likes it. It’s all very confusing, loathing, and lusting at the same time.
“You okay?” Sage asks with a semi-amused smile on his face.
I realize I’ve zoned off and am gawking at him. I clear my throat and smooth my hands across the plaid pencil skirt and white button shirt I’m wearing, forcing a smile. “I had to go to court today, and I didn’t think my normal cut-offs and T-shirts would be appropriate.”
His amusement goes poof as worry replaces it. He scratches his head. “Shit, Sadie, I’m so sorry. I forgot that was today.”
“It’s okay. It’s not like you knew it was today, unless Ayden told you, but he hardly tells anyone anything. Well, other than maybe Lyric. He tells her everything, but that’s because he loves her.” I take a deep breath, mentally cursing myself. How the hell did I go from talking about the trial to talking about Ayden and Lyric being in love?
“Yeah, I know.” He seems amused, but for some reason, I don’t think it has anything to do with Lyric and Ayden being in love and more do to with my moronic rambling.
Lyric Scott is Ayden’s girlfriend. The two of them are so interwoven they’re practically inseparable. Their love could never be viewed as funny. In fact, most people probably envy it. Hell, I envy it and wish I could one day find my other half. And if I ever did fall for a guy, and he did reciprocate my feelings, I can’t see myself being able to have a physical relationship with him. The trust I’d have to put in that person … to kiss … to touch … Yes, I want it, but it seems unreachable sometimes.
“I knew it was today, though,” Sage admits, his expression laced with guilt.
“How?” I ask, confused.
“The papers.”
“Oh, yeah.” Goddamn the papers. Thanks to the trial making headlines, almost everyone knows our story.
“You could’ve told me that it was today,” Sage says, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I meant what I said the other night.”
The other night. Shit. Through all the chaos, I forgot about the other night. How Sage and I had a little heart-to-heart after band practice ended, something I go to often just to watch, relax, and spend a little extra time with my brother.
Nolan, Ayden, and Lyric had wandered off somewhere, and Sage and I were hanging out on the sofa. I drank a little too much, mostly because I psyched myself out over the approaching trial and just wanted a few goddamn hours without having to worry about getting on the stand. I was babbling Sage’s ear off about God knows what—how I’m moving out of the Gregorys’ house, and how scared I am about it, how scary life is. I barely remember the specifics, only that I talked more than I normally do.
I started to talk about the trial, but then I trailed off, stopping myself. I must have had a strange look on my face because Sage suddenly placed his hand
over mine.
“Sadie, I know you don’t know me very well,” he said, molding his hand around mine. “But if you ever need to talk, I can be an awesome listener.”
It felt like I should slip my hand out from under his, but the reasoning was a little hazy. “I usually only talk to Ayden about my problems. He’s been busy, though, with that … um, thing for Lyric.” I bit my tongue. “Sorry, I’m not sure I’m supposed to say anything about that.”
