23. Pandora
PANDORA
When she’s done looking over the files, Bobbi wipes a tear from the corner of her eyes.
“Fuck,” Bobbi says.
The basement isn’t the best place for a tactical meeting, but we’re not about to let Bobbi upstairs where she could potentially come across Samantha.
Blaze takes the tablet back from her. “Yeah. Asch noticed the connection. Roberta, Bobbi—and the dates match up with when the sister pair got taken. Not to mention, Lynx getting sent down to NewVa only a year later.”
I still don’t get it, but I wasn’t looking for anything that was unconnected to Rachel.
That’s where singular focus gets me: completely ignoring everything else.
I snuggle against Asch while Blaze and Bobbi discuss all the details. River sits in a fold-up chair across from us, scowling the entire time.
Maybe I should be snuggling with him? He has a bruise on his jaw that needs to be kissed better.
Or maybe my own tender face needs soothing. Blaze said my nose isn’t broken, but every painful inhale makes me think he’s a liar.
“Fuck!” Bobbi shouts. She gets up and kicks the side of the sofa, sending it—and Blaze—sliding a few inches.
Wow, no wonder she was able to lift me up so easily.
I’m probably lucky I don’t need facial reconstruction.
“That bastard!” Bobbi clenches her fist. “I believed him. I believed him! But this entire time, he’s known? He was the one who…”
Bobbi lets out a frustrated sound, one that’s so familiar it echoes in my own chest.
“Yeah.” Blaze gets off the couch. “My dad’s a dick like that.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” Asch comments.
Asch is really not taking the whole human trafficking thing well, judging by how he shuts down every time it comes up.
Bobbi kicks the couch again, which slides farther without Blaze’s weight. Then she takes a deep breath and stands tall. “Fine. Yeah, I’ll help you. Anything to take that dick down.”
Because at the end of the day, it’s all his fault.
He’s the one who did this.
Well, he didn’t start it. The fraternity is older than him, and the secret networks it created have existed for almost a century.
Can I say there would have been no Rachel without George Bouchard?
There’d be fewer Rachels.
But Papa created Rachels too.
Bobbi got that part right. I can pretend Papa never did it. We could sugarcoat it, paint it all in white and say the blood isn’t visible anymore, but even with layers and layers of white paint the blood is still there.
It’ll shine through under the luminol.
It shines through every time somebody asks Mama how she and Papa met.
Something’s wrong with me, that I’m even thinking about this.
Bobbi walks over to me. “Your friend. Rachel.”
I instantly sit up straighter. “What about her?”
“I met her once.” Bobbi laughs bitterly. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time. It was at a party where I was supposed to take care of somebody.”
My eyes widen.
Rachel hadn’t been alive for long between getting kidnapped and getting murdered.
“Was she—” My voice chokes up. “How did she look?”
Could Bobbi have saved her? Did Bobbi look at some poor, desperate girl and think ‘not my problem?’
Because then Bobbi is a problem.
“Uncomfortable.” Bobbi runs a hand through her short hair. “Zayden was with her, but so was John Allers. You know, the tech billionaire.”
“Oh. He’s Kappa Alpha,” Blaze says. “He and my dad are friends.”
The tech billionaire.
How casual. Just a tech billionaire. Not even somebody in organized crime, no.
A guy who knows the right people, who has the right friends.
Investments into companies that go under in five years, but don’t worry, the next one will surely bring a lot of market value, so who cares?
John Allers can afford to meet with pretty young women who don’t want anything to do with him.
Blaze says something, but I don’t hear it through the thick, goopy air.
Asch’s arm around me tightens, and he kisses the side of my head. “Pandora?” he asks, in that way that makes me think he might’ve been saying my name for a moment already. “You need to breathe.”
“There’s no air,” I point out, but that sounds crazy. “There is air,” I correct.
I don’t tell him that it’s starting to smell like blood in the room.
This is really, really bad.
I toss Asch’s arm off me and stand up.
“So we’ve all had a long night,” I state, and I force myself to smile. “I’m fucking tired. I’ll grab Samantha and head back to the dorm. Bobbi, please don’t kill us on our way out.”
“You should both stay here tonight,” River says, casting another suspicious look in Bobbi’s direction. “Just until we’re sure we’re all still on the same page.”
Asch nods, getting up with me. “No offense or anything, Bobbi, but we’d feel better having Pandora here.”
Bobbi rolls her eyes, and I agree with her. Asch is being way too overprotective.
“Blabe, back me up,” I say, turning to Blaze. “You want your big bed all to yourself tonight too, right?”
Blaze is frowning. “I would much rather have you where I can see you, Pandora.”
“Otherwise, your house might get burned down,” I say.
None of them laugh.
Come on, that was at least a little bit funny!
“Besides,” Asch says, wrapping his arms around me from behind and kissing my neck. “We can’t distract you if you aren’t here.”
Do I need distraction?
Yes.
I need to not think about Samantha at gun point.
I need to not think about Bobbi almost killing me.
I definitely need to not think about Rachel getting sawed up.
“I’ll be in touch,” Bobbi says. Her voice is weird. “You can handle… whatever this is.”
This?
What is this?
I’m…
I’m not fine.
I’m not okay.
But if I open my mouth right now, everybody else will know how not okay I am.
“I’ll walk you out,” River says, his eyes trained on Bobbi. His tone is cold, nothing like what I’m used to—all heat and passion and more.
Asch keeps his arms around me, squeezing tight. “Let’s get upstairs,” he says, his voice every bit as gentle as River’s was hard.
I nod, afraid of what might drip out of my mouth if I open it to speak.
This is really, really bad.
I’m not one hundred percent fully sane, sure, but my hallucinations aren’t supposed to be like this.
At least I know they’re hallucinations, right? That’s something.
It doesn’t help me feel like a fully formed person, and I still don’t have a beating heart, but it’s got to count for something.
Asch and Blaze whisper to each other, then they lead me upstairs, behind River and Bobbi.
“I’m—” I start, but I was right. Black bile oozes out of my mouth. I quickly shut it again.
Asch’s arm around me guides me toward Blaze’s bedroom, and he stays close to me as we walk. It isn’t until we’re inside that he turns to me, brushing hair from my face. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but that’s a dumb question, right?”
I smile.
Yeah, it’s a really dumb question.
Blaze sits down on the bed and pats the space behind him. “C’mere, Pandora. Let us make things better.”
Isn’t that presumptuous of him?
He can’t possibly believe he can fix me.
But I go to him anyway, and I let him draw me into an embrace. His arms are warm and sturdy, and the cologne masks some of the blood that fills my nostrils.
Why the fuck can’t I be normal and enjoy this?
Every other person on campus must be so jealous of how I get these three perfect, amazing men, and all I can think about is how the walls may or may not be bleeding.
Asch sits close to me. He kisses my cheek, then cups my cheeks in his hands so he can look me over. “How are you physically?” he asks, rephrasing his earlier question in a way that doesn’t sound half as stupid.
“My face hurts,” I admit.
No black bile this time. That’s a good sign, maybe.
Blaze kisses the back of my neck. “Her nose isn’t broken. I checked. Her hands are fine too.”
I clench my hand in demonstration. The pain from having it stomped on is mostly gone. Either that, or the pain of everything else is that much worse.
Uncle Slayer used to joke that if you’ve got a headache, you can simply cut your head off to make it better.
Mama didn’t think that was funny, but Papa always laughed.
River steps into the room, his expression still thunderous. “At least there’s that,” he says, coming over to stand beside the bed. “Still doesn’t make me hate this any less.”
“Nothing is going to make any of us hate this any less,” Asch remarks, thumbs stroking my cheeks. His skin is so, so warm.
“We should’ve killed her,” River mutters.
“But where would you have stashed her head?” I ask with a laugh. “Be practical, River.”
I don’t think Bobbi would go down as easily as Zayden.
“I’m sure we could’ve found a place,” River retorts.
Asch kisses my forehead. “Either way, we let her go, and it’s not like getting the upper hand on her again is going to be easy. As long as we all hold up our ends of the bargain, it’ll be fine.”
“She’s not the biggest problem, anyway.” Blaze wraps his arms around my waist. “But I really don’t want to think about my dad right now.”
Yeah, thinking about parents while in bed is a big no from me, too.
I lean back against Blaze. My eyes go up to the ceiling.
It’s a simple, blank white.
Is it over?
My hands look clean, too. Why shouldn’t they be, since Blaze carefully washed them for me?
He’d washed my face, too, and kissed me gently.
Like he thought I was breaking.
No.
That isn’t me.
I’m not broken.
I grab the hem of my sweater. “Okay, you’re all being weird,” I declare. My voice doesn’t sound like it’s stuffed up with black goo. “And everybody is way too dressed.”
Demanding and forceful. That’s me!
Yes. This is me.
Asch helps me pull the sweater over my head, tossing it to the side.
He doesn’t ask if this is really what I want, instead going for the fastening of my bra to pull that off as well. The bra is a simple white one without any lace or a fancy design.
“Oh, it’s a boring one this time,” Blaze says.
I knock my hand into his chest. “I thought I was going out for a dull movie night, not murder-and-sex.”
Blaze takes my hand and kisses the palm. “You could wear the sexy ones all the time. You never know when we’ll accost you.”