Glass Heart Savage - Lindsey Iler Page 0,68

her dorm. Combined, these things have been leading up to this moment.

Call it intuition, call it a premonition, but something is happening on campus behind closed doors.

We have the top security in the country, and a campus full of students born into the most elite families. These things don’t happen without someone having some sort of knowledge.

No one comes onto our campus without a full background check, so whoever is committing these acts of violence, they must be one of us.

Flashing blue lights jar me from the knowledge I’ve uncovered in the last few moments.

“Miss Weston?” A man built like a freight truck steps around his security vehicle door, shutting it behind him. “I’m Brandon, the security guard on duty tonight. We received a call from dispatch saying you’d been attacked. Do you mind riding with me to the office?”

“I’ll drive her.” Delaney pushes past Brandon and wraps me in a hug, everything suddenly forgotten. “We’ll meet you at the security office.”

I’ve never been so happy to see my best friend.

He leers at her with cold eyes. “As you wish.”

In the cool night air, my best friend holds me. I scream apologies, which she dismisses, telling me none of that matters.

“I don’t care right now. All I care about is that you’re okay.” She runs her hands over my arms, inspecting my bruised skin.

“I don’t know what they did, but whatever it is, I didn’t do it. Whatever they said or showed you, I promise I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you,” I plead one last time.

Delaney holds me at arm’s length. “I know. Breaker got in my head. The second you walked away, I knew something wasn’t right.”

Delaney and I watch the security guard climb behind the wheel of the official SUV and drive off. When we are alone, she turns to me. “Explain to me what happened before we get to the office.” She guides me to her car.

I relive the moment I ran into the stranger and the events that followed. Delaney listens intently, nodding and worrying her brow as she drives us through campus to the security facility.

“How did you know I needed you?” I ask, gazing at her over the top of her car.

“I saw your call and then Breaker found me, said I needed to find you.” She circles her arm through mine and ushers me to the door.

Dixon. Maybe he’s not as heartless as I believe.

“Before we go in, Delaney, I need to tell you something.” I stop and tug her arm. “I think there’s a link between Reed and the other girls disappearing and my attack tonight. Maybe even yours. There has to be a link.”

“Okay.” Her forehead wrinkles with the questions she’s holding back. “What happened to me was a fluke, Palmer,” Delaney says, opening the door. “A ginormous asshole thinking he’s privileged to a body because he says so.”

I push inside and whisper, “Can you be positive of that?” Her silence answers my question. “Okay, then.” I check over my shoulder. “I’m going to file a report that’s going to go nowhere, much like everything else on this campus, and then we’re going to walk out of here, knowing nothing will come of it.”

“Palmer, what if you’re thinking too much into this?”

“She’s been missing for an entire year. There were no signs of anyone else’s DNA in her dorm room, and if there were, the police in this town didn’t do anything about it. It’s probably sitting in a facility across town, building up a pretty collection of dust.” I circle, begging my friend to believe me. “I promise you something is going on. I don’t know what it is, but it’s something.”

“If you believe that, then I’m with you.” She places a comforting hand on my shoulder.

For almost an hour, we sit next to each other, and I offer every bit of information I have to the security guard. He nods and jots down parts of my story. No police show up. I’m lucky they’ve called in a medical staff member to inspect my wounds, which she declares superficial. Tell that to the biting pain every time I take a breath.

At the end, I’m told to sign the bottom of my statement and all information will be faxed over to the police station.

“The odds of finding out who did this are rare,” Brandon explains. “Things like this don’t usually develop into a full case.”

“Shouldn’t she be giving a DNA sample? She fought him off,” Delaney interrupts. “There has to

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