I glance back up, toward my room on the top floor, and I shiver.
I'm sort of glad I'm not up there all alone, even if living with Dad is a veritable form of hell. The only plus recently is that he hasn't been disconnecting the Wi-fi at night. I suppose that's a form of compassion, coming from him.
“There was an obvious seam there,” Ranger murmurs as he takes us back to his room. His and Spencer's. Well, technically, I guess it's Church's room, but …
As soon as we walk in and I see Spencer's bed, still unmade from the last day he was here, my eyes fill with tears. I find that I'm drawn to his charcoal gray sheets, and end up crawling under them as I listen to the boys talk.
The twins notice and exchange a look, pausing next to Church as Ranger sits down heavily on the edge of his bed.
“There was a hole there, and someone patched it up. Did a damn good job of it, too. It's nearly invisible.”
“So, whoever's after me is some sort of construction expert then?” I ask, rubbing at the bridge of my nose. There's a migraine coming on, I can feel it.
“Mark is guilty,” the twins say in unison, glancing at each other before turning back to the room. They point across at one another. “We can feel it.”
“Why do you say that?” Church asks smoothly, but less like he disagrees with them and more like he wants to hear their independent thoughts before making up his own mind.
“The hole went from the attic to his room. And then it was covered up so expertly. Why bother? Unless you wanted to remove the idea of any connection between you and the attacks.” Tobias shrugs his shoulders and Micah continues on for him.
“I guess one of the hoodie-wearing assholes could be Blaine”—I'm assuming Blaine is Mark's roomie until I hear otherwise—”but come on, Mark is a total twat-waffle, complete with butter-face and douche maple syrup.”
I raise my brows. Whoa. An insult that's Chuck-worthy in its insanity. I'll take it. Seems appropriate anyhow.
“If he is one of my attackers, then there are least two more,” I add, feeling exhaustion dig its nails into me and hold on for dear life. I want Spencer back. I want Culinary Club and cake baking and even … even the light bullying, I want it all back to the way it was. “Because I distinctly heard a masculine scream when I nailed the first guy with pepper spray, and a male grunt when I hit the second with the crowbar.” I look at the four faces staring back at me. “Back at Everly, one of my attackers was female.”
“Let's keep an eye on Mark,” Church says, face shutting down into this dark void. I would not want to be on his bad side. Hell, I was for a little while and it wasn't pretty. Even then, his wrath was only because of my attitude. Imagine if he thought I'd hurt or even killed his friend? I would not put it past this guy to stab someone. “And maybe he'll lead us to the other two.”
“Or to Spencer,” Ranger suggests, and the room falls silent. We're all missing him so hard in that moment. When I lift his sheets up and close my eyes, breathing in that signature hyssop and cedar scent, I know I'm not moving from this spot, not tonight.
“Can I sleep here?” I ask.
It doesn't even take Ranger a second to answer.
“Of course you can,” he whispers, and then I curl up and cry quietly as the light is shut off, the electric fireplace on, and the soft sound of the door closing punctuates the twins and Church leaving the room. “I’m going to take a few sleeping pills. You want any?” I shake my head; words are too hard right now.
Outside, the storm rages even harder.
I try my best not to think of it as an omen.
Doesn't work.
Despite my level of fatigue, it doesn't look like I'll be falling asleep for a long, long time. Instead, I'm left to lie there with the sound of the storm and the dark whisper of my thoughts for company.Ranger falls asleep first, the soft sound of his breathing a comforting backdrop against the crackle from the fireplace and the pounding rain from outside the window.
I lay curled in Spencer's bed, drinking in his scent and holding his pillow close to my face, wishing it were him I was holding instead. That is, if he'd even let me. If he hadn't gone missing, how would things have turned out? Would he have been able to forgive me for lying? Surely he'd forgive the rest of the Student Council. I mean, I don't know a lot about their history, but it seems like they've been friends for a while.
