Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Cold slid into my bones, freezing me to the spot.
“No one else has the right to hurt you,” he slithered into my ear. “If those responsible don’t pay for this in the end, ask for help. You still have friends.”
Dante went on to say more. An entire thirty-minute segment on the news in Bedlam, and I didn’t hear a thing till the kookaburra laughed, ending the show.
I TRUDGED HOME FOLLOWING a long day of classes and sympathetic tuts at my healing bruises.
Arsenio leaned against the banister, waiting for me.
“I assume you heard Dante’s latest show.”
My backpack slipped off my shoulders. Arsenio let me rest my forehead on his folded arms without comment. Taking a deep breath, I said the only thing that could be true. “Dante is the Letter Man. The mantle of Bedlam’s underground voice was taken over by a psychopath.”
“No one else has the right to hurt you,” Arsenio repeated. “He’s protective of you. Implied that he’s a friend.”
“He’s a friend like a bullet wound is a boo-boo.”
His hand was warm on the back of my head. “He was angry, de Souza. Everyone listening heard it. The Crows jumping you set him off, and considering who he is, he might deliver justice if it’s not done for him—even if he says otherwise. He has some kind of attachment to you, Rainey. That doesn’t come from nowhere.”
I bent to look up into eyes so unique and beautiful from mine. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying even the most deranged stalker needs a meeting or moment to build their delusions on. They don’t pick a name out of a phone book.” He shook his head. “All this you’re going through to find him. You don’t have to, Rainey. I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s someone you know.”
My lips parted. To spout a denial. To form an argument. I couldn’t decide.
“But I didn’t know Cavendish,” I finally said. “Never crossed that guy’s path once.”
“He knew your sister, didn’t he? They were at Bedlam U at the same time. Ever pick her up from campus, or drop by to grab lunch?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “All the time.”
“It’s possible you did cross paths with Cavendish and his friend. The meeting was insignificant to you. Not worth remembering. But it wasn’t to them.”
Not worth remembering.
I gripped his arms, frustration welling hot and fast.
“Of course,” I whispered. “He might know me. I could’ve sipped tea and eaten cookies with him on the deck and never realized. I lost chunks of time after Gran died and Doc Nash put me on a blackout drug cocktail. I couldn’t tell you who I met during that time. Or what I did.”
The grave at Black Widow Hill.
“But it’s possible I did something terrible,” I rasped. “So bad I made enemies who are seeing I get what I deserve.”
“Possible, maybe, and I don’t know won’t help you.” He kissed me, scrambling my mind the way only he could. “If there are gaps in your memory, fill them in. Do whatever it takes. Talk to people who were around. Know where to start?”
I nodded. “I have an idea.”
Untangling his arms, I wrapped myself in them.
“What about Dante/The Letter Man?” I tucked my head under his chin. He wasn’t hugging or nuzzling me back, and neither was he pushing me away. This classified as tender love and affection from a guy like Arsenio. “Did he just whip the town into planning his next hit? What if everyone votes for breaking their kneecaps and tossing them off Chaney Bridge? The thought of him hurting people in my name makes me sick.”
“He won’t mess with the Crows.” Arsenio snaked his arm around my waist, lifting me off my feet. He made for the door.
“There won’t be anything left when we’re done.”
ARSENIO’S VOICE RANG in my head as Jeremy led me on another chase around campus. I found my way to Parking Garage C in time for a red convertible to pull up to the curb. Jeremy glared at me through the window.
“Get in.”
“Good afternoon to you too.” I hopped in, beaming away. “You look nice. Is that a new jacket?”
“Fuck you.”
I laughed in his sour face.
Jeremy looked tempted to punch me again. He slammed the gas instead, turning on the road that led out of campus.
“That car was worth more than your fucking farm!”
I waved that away. “You’re rich. Buy a new one.”
“You went too far.”
“You hurt my friend,” I shot back, “and I bitched less about it than you are over a hunk of metal. Are we putting it behind us and moving on or not?”
Jeremy jerked the wheel, hooking a right.
I bounced off the door, gritting my teeth. He didn’t have to do that. Jeremy was just testing how far he could push me before I drowned him in a pool.
“Is that a no?”
“No, depends on what you have for me,” he replied. “It better be good or the deal is off. Try me.”