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He was watching me like he always did. Waiting.
“He broke me. I still feel that. He did that to me, and here you are, not caring what I’m about to say to you. I think that’s the only reason I want to say it, to say it to someone. Someone who doesn’t care. Someone I can unburden myself to, and it won’t matter to them.” A tear broke free, the first of so many that I’d never let fall. This one fell. This one, I let fall. “My ex beat me. I already told you that, but I didn’t tell you what else he took from me. One night I couldn’t hide what he did. Guess what my father did? Because he was a good man. Not everyone gets a good dad. I did. I got a great dad, and because he was a great dad . . . because I couldn’t hide the bruises from him anymore, he went there. To my ex’s place. He knocked on the door. He told Max to stay away from me. He told him to stay out of my life, that I would be nothing to him. Do you know what my ex did?”
Another tear. This one ran down the side of my face, all on its own volition.
“He shot my dad.”
I stared forward, just reciting.
“On his home’s doorstep, he took out a gun, shot my dad, and beat him. When my dad stopped breathing, that was when he called 911. He knew it was too late. He took away my father because he was told that he couldn’t keep kicking a toy that he liked to kick. That’s why I lost my father. That’s why we moved here.”
There. It was done. It was out.
I’d told someone else.
Wasn’t I supposed to feel better?
18
RAMSAY
I was getting looks the next day. Lots of them.
During first period, I just thought word got out about the time I spent with Scout last night. Like what Kira thought, that others thought the same thing. Then a girl in my second period started to say something, but she choked on her words as soon as I looked at her. She wouldn’t turn to me the rest of the class.
There were looks in the hallways. People turned away, their heads almost bumping against each other in their haste not to make eye contact with me.
Something was up. Something way bad.
Between classes? Looks.
In classes? Looks.
I was starting to think this wasn’t about Scout and me.
Lunch came around, and as soon as I stepped into the cafeteria, Trenton appeared behind me and ran into my back when I stopped short.
“Okay. What’s going on?” There was too much weirdness happening.
He grabbed my arms, his mouth in a flat line. “We have to talk.”
My heart sank. “Okay.” He didn’t wait to hear me. He was walking me out of the lunch room, out the door, into the hallway, and through to an empty classroom. My other cousins were there, looking grim and pissed.
Clint was glaring at the door, his arms crossed tight over his chest.
Alex gazed at me, pity in his eyes.
Oh, boy. My heart dropped all the way to my toes.
“What’s going on?”
There was a brief knock. Trenton exploded in a curse, “Finally.”
He wrenched open the door. Cohen and Scout came in. Cohen had the same look as Alex, while Scout had—nothing. His gaze flicked to mine but passed to Alex’s, which had the two of them sharing a look.
“What’s going on? You guys are talking again?”
“This takes precedence,” Alex said.
As if it were decided, everyone turned to Clint, who was back to watching me. His anger was there, but it was banked. Just slightly. He started for me. “You’ve not checked your phone today?”
I frowned, looking at my phone. “What?” The answer was no because I had an emotional hangover from last night. The party. The photo. Coming clean to Scout, who I looked at, and still, his eyes were so unreadable.
“Why?” I started to open my phone.
“Don’t!” Alex reached forward.
Trenton jumped. “Jesus, stop!”
“What?” I was getting really scared.
I scrambled, opening it. I’d turned my notifications off last night. I hadn’t thought of it, I’d just did it in case a new number sent me another picture of my dad. I’d not told my mom about what happened.
I ignored the guys and saw.
I saw everything.
Gem: Holy shit. Call me! ASAP!
Unknown: U crazy cunt. Leave our school or we gonna make you leave.
Unknown: psycho bitch
Unknown: U shld die, thanx
They’d sent me screenshots, and each one had my stomach shrinking. I’d seen the headlines. I’d already lived through them. I knew what each article was about.
Boyfriend Murders Father, Daughter Blamed!
Love Gone Murder?
She Told Me To Do It!
She’s To Blame?
High School Boyfriend Tragedy.
Each headline was wrong and twisted. Sick.
They were as hard to read as the first time I’d seen them. I felt punched with each one, right back to that night when Max had held me down.
