The Princess and The Jester - A.D. McCammon Page 0,44

the hell took these creepy ass photos? Are these meant as a threat?

Adrenaline courses through me, my heart pumping speedily. The devil is clearly up to no good, and Gwen’s in his crosshairs.

“You don’t understand…this isn’t what you think.”

She was trying to tell me there was more going on, but I was too worked up to hear her. This could be it. The missing piece of the puzzle. Figuring out who sent these and what they want with her might give me a clear view of the full picture. Maybe I’ll finally understand what the hell is going on.

There aren’t any other messages or calls from this contact. Nothing to indicate who they might be. Luckily that can’t stop someone like me from finding the information.

All it takes is a quick copy and paste of the number from her contacts. In a matter of seconds, I’ve got the bastard’s name.

Donavan.

Shane has always been a slimy little snake. He was Gwen’s biggest tormentor when we were kids. The fucker was relentless, calling her names like Gwennie Pig and pushing her around. Taking up for her earned me more than one black eye. But I was finally able to put a stop to his reign of terror with Thatcher and Arwen’s help.

Then Gwen broke my heart and became friends with Shane. Seeing them act all buddy-buddy together was like a knife in the back. She had more of a reason to hate him than anyone.

My hurt and anger blinded me back then. At the time, it was simply more evidence that she was a manipulative liar.

But now that’s she’s back in my life, I’m starting to question everything. Whatever is going on between them now certainly doesn’t seem friendly.

What does he have on you, Princess?

Does it have anything to do with why she ended things? Or why she’s still keeping secrets from me?

I’m tempted to march back down the hall and demand answers from her, but I doubt she’d tell me the truth. If she was planning on telling me, she already would’ve.

There’s only one other person who can clear things up for me.

I check the time and shoot Arwen a quick text asking for a ride back to my car. Looks like I’ll be paying Shane a little visit today.

Arwen’s GTO flies down the road, the speakers blasting bitches broken hearts by Billie Eilish. How anyone can stand this much noise before eight in the morning is beyond me.

She scowls at me as I turn it down. “Jesus, Ari. I can’t hear myself think.”

“Exactly. Isn’t it great?”

“No.”

She sighs. “It might do you some good to get out of your head for a while. You’ve been such a moody little fucker lately.”

I laugh, flipping her off. “You act like that’s something new.”

“True.” She smirks. “Since I had to come get your ass before school, are you going to tell me how the hell your car ended up at the mall?”

Arwen and Saint are both in summer school this year. Only she’s playing catch up and Violet is getting ahead of the game. The little genius will be graduating a year early and walking that stage with us next May.

“Nope,” I chirp, smiling when her eyes cut to me.

“Does it have something to do with Gwen?” she asks, and I give her a hard glare, warning her to drop it. “Fine, whatever. Next time you can find someone else to chauffer you around.”

I chuckle. We both know she’ll always be there when I need her. And the same goes for me with her. “Do you know anything about what Shane Donavan has been up to lately?”

Arwen shakes out a shiver. “Ugh, that dude is such a fucking creep. But I haven’t heard anything about him lately. Why? Do you think he’s screwing with Gwen?”

“I’m not sure yet,” I answer, deciding there’s no point in denying my concern for Gwen.

“I thought he was over his sick obsession with her.”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Wait. You thought he was obsessed with her? In what way?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. Is there more than one way to be obsessed with someone? He just seemed…fixated on her. Think about how much time he’s spent fucking with her over the years. And he hated your ass. Made me wonder if maybe he was jealous, like he wanted her for himself.”

My head spins from the lack of oxygen. If I hadn’t witnessed Thatcher giving Violet hell because of his infatuation with her, this idea would

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