I had no doubt that death had been Sawyer’s intent that fateful night. I was sure he hadn’t planned on anyone escaping the accident alive. He was demented, and it didn’t matter that I was the only one who’d ever kept him in check. He still scared the piss out of me, which is why I wanted Ollie gone.
I sighed. However, there was no way I’d been able to ignore the pull to check on her when I got home last night as the storm raged outside. I knew I was going to find her huddled in a ball and scared out of her skin. I knew she was going to be so pale that she was almost white. I knew she was going to have tears in her eyes and be shaking so hard I could hear her teeth clicking together. I knew the dark was going to seem large and looming in a new place, especially one as old as ours. Harlen was right. I should’ve let her suffer and hope that she was freaked out enough to leave my house, but I just couldn’t. Which was an even bigger reason I needed her out of my life once and for all.
I didn’t want her regrets or her remorse.
I wanted her, and the heartbreak in her eyes, gone for good.
The fact that I knew better but still found myself drawn to her when she was at her most vulnerable was almost as scary as the prospect of whatever demented fuckery Sawyer might bring my way.
Ollie
“You’re cute. Can I get your number?”
I stumbled to a stop, precariously juggling my phone in one hand and a frothy Starbucks drink in the other. A tote bag full of books and my laptop swung from my shoulder and down my arm when I was suddenly intercepted between classes.
I blinked stupidly at the young man standing in front of me, noticing his gaze seemed locked on my scar despite his throwaway compliment about my appearance. If he hadn’t said something to me, I would’ve walked right into him and he would be wearing my drink.
“Excuse me?”
My mumbled words brought his eyes toward mine, and he flashed me a grin so perfect that I was sure he had practiced the exact curl of his lips in the mirror regularly. I didn’t know why I was his target or what made him think I was open for conversation, friendly or otherwise. I knew there was nothing about my demeanor that was approachable or welcoming. I had walls erected a mile high, and I liked it that way. I no longer wanted to be an easy mark for anyone.
“Your number. Can I have it? I think you’re cute. I like your curly hair.”
I wasn’t in the habit of interacting with strangers. I didn’t trust them. I didn’t trust anyone aside from Huck. At least with him, I knew exactly where I stood, even if I was pissing him off.
“Ummm…” I didn’t want to cause a scene or get involved in an awkward situation. I was trying to blend in, not stick out. He wasn’t the first student to ask me out once I’d transferred here, but there was something about the aggressive way he’d blocked my path and the direct way he was staring at me that made me super uncomfortable. It had me seriously doubting the authenticity of his intent.
The guy shoved his iPhone in my direction, lifting an eyebrow when I didn’t shuffle the things in my hands to take it.
“Just put in your number, and I’ll call it right now.” He smirked at me as I continued to blink stupidly. “I want to make sure you don’t give me a fake number. I hate it when girls do that.”
If this was his usual tactic when trying to pick someone up, no wonder he got fake numbers often enough to have a plan to avoid it from happening. I fought back the urge to roll my eyes as I tried to figure out the easiest way to slip out of this situation. Rejection shouldn’t be something that made me fear for my life, but after everything that went down with Sawyer, I knew just how dangerous saying no to the wrong person could be. It sucked and was totally unfair that I was far from the only female to learn that lesson the hard way.
I could tell the guy was getting annoyed as I remained silent and still,