Chapter 31
SAGE
“So, what happens to Benjamin?” I ask, sitting back in my desk chair and facing my bed, where the three Hallows Boys are lined up. My face is burning hot, and my eyes are sore from crying, but I feel a little better now that a meltdown is out of the way.
“What do you mean? He’s in jail,” Kaiden says, appearing bored.
“But he’s innocent,” I press, looking at him like he’s insane.
“Not entirely,” he responds. “Besides, what do you care?”
I look at Beckham for help, but when he shrugs, I growl and turn my attention to Vincent. He gives me a pitiful look, like I’m a wounded baby bird or something, so I just roll my eyes and cross my arms over my chest in defeat.
“So, what? Megan’s real story just dies with my parents?”
Kaiden shrugs. “I guess so. I mean, we’ll tell the story to the next generation, and I’m sure one day it’ll come out of someone somewhere. Hopefully, we’ll all be long gone by then.”
“It doesn’t seem fair…” I say, turning around to close all the tabs on my laptop before I drop the screen shut. “Everyone deserves the truth in the end.”
“The truth is overrated,” Vinny says, making me turn around again to look at him. “Look at what it just did to you.”
I stand up with a huff. “I’m going to bed. You guys can see yourselves out.”
Kaiden stands to meet me, getting too close for comfort. “You know what happens if you tell someone, right?”
I roll my eyes, a retort sitting on my tongue, but he grabs my jaw and squeezes it. “Don’t roll your fucking eyes at me again.”
My stomach swells, and I lick my lips, grinning. “Or what?”
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head as a maniacal smile pulls up his lips, then the hold he has on my jaw tightens. “Sage, it isn’t the time nor place to give me attitude. Your grandmother will be home soon.”
Leaning forward, I put my face an inch from his before I speak slowly. “I won’t tell anyone. Now get out of my house.”
His mouth twists into a bigger smile. “God, I want to paint your skin red.”
I shake my head until his hand falls from my jaw, then take a step backwards, pushing him away. “You know where the front door is.”
Kaiden hums between his lips, narrowing his eyes for a breath, but turns around to head for my bedroom door to leave. Beckham and Vinny stand up, meeting my gaze.
“Goodnight, Savage,” Beckham says with a small smile.
I don’t say anything in response, just watch as all three of them step past the threshold of my bedroom, and then listen for them to go out the front door.
I sleep like shit—nightmares haunt me, waking me up every hour with soaking sheets from sweat and tears. When I drag myself downstairs for my morning coffee, Gran is sitting at the table as usual.
“Mornin’, sweetie!” she greets me, and I groan.
“Rough morning?” Chuckling, she shakes out the newspaper in front of her. “I got some good news that might cheer ya up.”
I reach for the coffeepot, exhaustion and an attitude coating my tone. “Oh yeah, what’s that, Gran?”
“Your car showed up this morning. Lawyer said some more money was released into your account, too,” she says casually, her attention still on the newspaper.
I spin around to face her. “Really?!”
“Honest to God.”
I sigh, my head tipping back in gratitude. “Why, though? I thought we didn’t have control over anything?”
She shrugs. “No clue. Wasn’t gonna ask questions.”
Chuckling, I smile. “Well, thank god.”
“Got a lotta shoppin’ to do?” Gran laughs.
Turning around to continue making my coffee, I chuckle. “I need some new clothes, for one. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to have a coffeemaker that wasn’t purchased at the corner store. I miss lattes.”
Gran clicks her tongue. “Ya sound spoiled rotten, Sage Grace.”
I go to the table with coffee in hand and sit down. “I’ve been spoiled my whole life, Gran.”
After all the bullshit I’ve been put through since my parents died, learning how to adapt in a new environment and existing completely differently than I’ve ever had to, it’ll be nice to feel some sort of normalcy again.
In LA, my go-to mental health treatment was to go shopping, and after the bombs that were dropped on me yesterday, I need some retail therapy.
If that makes me spoiled, then so be it.
I stand, pushing my chair out behind me and rounding the table to kiss her on top of the head. “See you after cheer practice.”
“Have a good day, Sage,” she quips, putting her attention back on the newspaper as I head for the door.
I grab my bag from where I left it at the foot of the stairs, throw it over my shoulder, then slip the keys for my BMW SUV off the hook by the door. Pushing out into the morning, I shiver when the crisp air hits me. It’s a colder day, so I’m glad I put on a hoodie.
Climbing into the driver’s seat of my SUV, tears prick at my eyes at the familiar space. Taking a deep breath in, I let the smell of my car fill my nostrils. It smells foreign and familiar all at once, the faint vanilla from the old air freshener only a soft presence.
I crank the engine, and when I’ve backed out into the street and shifted into drive, I flex my fingers on the steering wheel to get more comfortable.
Every day in Blackmore seems like a new disaster, and I’m hoping today can just be normal. I need normal. I need a carefree day when nothing jumps out from the shadows and mentally dropkicks me.
My phone buzzes in the center console, so when I pull up to the stop sign at the end of Main, I read the message. It’s from a number I don’t have saved, but luckily the sender has signed it with his name.
Unsaved number
Meet me for breakfast? -Becks
I roll my eyes, even as the butterflies in my stomach start flapping their wings, but don’t bother responding. Dropping my phone in between my legs, I press the gas, flexing my fingers a few more times on the steering wheel to get my blood pumping.
I don’t think I want to see the Hallows Boys today—not after yesterday.
I laugh to myself at the thought because it’s a lie. I’d want to see them even if they were the ones who murdered Megan themselves. They have their hooks in me; I’m just a fish hanging on their line, waiting to be reeled in for consumption.
I need fucking help.
They’ve proven to me, time and time again, that they’ll do nothing but ruin me, so why does the sick part of me want to let them? Take any crumb or morsel they let fall my way and consume it entirely and without hesitation?
What is it about them? All three of them are so different—dark angels with devil horns and wicked forked tongues to match, they make me crazy and sane at the same time.
It’s like they’re seeing my soul, grasping it and protecting it in their dangerous hands, then when I bat my eyelashes, they crush it.
But they’re quick to pick up the pieces and tape them back together again, returning me only a little scarred.
They make me feel worshiped and wanted, rejected and hated, hopeless and hopeful. They make my head pound, my heart ache, my mind melt. They ruin me and fix me.
The parking lot at school is empty when I pull in, so I’m able to park right up front as usual.
Flipping down my visor to look in the mirror, dark eyes stare back at me, causing a shiver to run through my body, my own reflection making me feel intimidated.
I’m still the same girl, with blonde hair and deep brown eyes, but with the dark makeup circling my features and two French braids running down my scalp, I look different.
I feel different too—stronger this morning than I have in a while.
I throw my hood up, pulling my braids out so they’re trailing down to my breasts, then open the door, grab my bag, and get out.
It’s going to be a good day, I say to myself internally, willing it to happen as I slam the car door shut and head for the cafeteria.
Beckham’s sitting alone at a table in the center of the room, surprising me, so I head for him and drop my bag on the bench in greeting. He looks up at me from his food, smiling as soon as he sees it’s me.
“You started eating without me?” I muse, sitting next to my bag.
“I didn’t think you were coming,” he says, setting down the biscuit in his hand and brushing his fingers off. “You want me to get you something?”
“No.” I laugh. “I’m not hungry.”
His blue eyes fill with humor. “So, why’d you come?”
I mash my lips together as I smile, thinking over his question, but decide not to answer and instead reroute the conversation. “Where’s the rest of your boy band?”
He chuckles. “Vinny’s on the football field, and Kai’s in the courtyard. I wanted to be alone with you.”
“Why?” I ask, twisting my lips.
He sighs, hanging his arms at his sides. “I wanted to make sure you were okay after yesterday.”
I chuckle mindlessly. “Okay? Am I okay? No, Beckham, I’m not okay.”
His expression turns solemn. “I’m sorry.”
Shaking my head, I tap my fingernails on the table. “You have nothing to apologize for. I would’ve found out sooner or later; I just feel like all the information I’ve learned since moving here is rising above my chin, about to fucking drown me.”
“What can I do to help you, Sage? How can I make it better?” The words are a mere whisper, his eyes filled with sincerity that makes a stone fall to my gut. Sitting here, looking at the guilt in Beckham’s eyes, I want to scream and cry and bang my fists against the table.
“You can’t do anything,” I finally answer, breathing through my mouth as I blink back the moisture in my eyes. “I just need to fucking process everything.”
“Okay.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand, but I pull it away and thread my fingers together in my lap.
“And I think I need to process alone.”
Nodding, he lays his hands flat on the table. “I get it, Sage, I do. But just know that you don’t have to be alone with this, okay?”
The side of my lips twitch. “How’d you become a Hallows Boy when you’re so sweet?”
Beckham’s face breaks into a devious smirk that holds all our secrets within it. “I think you know.”
Juliet’s out sick again, so I spend most of my day not speaking to anyone. That is, until I’m walking into the gym after school to join the rest of the cheer squad for practice.
“Look who was brave enough to show her face today.” Rachel’s face morphs with a hateful smile as she brings her leg up and holds it in a high stretch.
Shaking my head, I ignore her and walk across the gym to the locker room. It’s fairly empty, a few girls occupying the small space while they get ready for whatever has brought them here. Throwing my bag into the locker I’ve claimed as my own, I kick off my shoes and start to change.
“Ignore Rachel.” A voice pulls my attention to the left, and I find one of the other cheerleaders standing at a locker about ten feet away. “She’s projecting her nasty attitude because Vinny didn’t show up to practice yesterday.”
I study the girl’s tanned, freckled face. “So what?”
She laughs, flipping her head over to gather her hair in between her hands so she can put it up in a bun. “So, Vinny’s never missed a day of practice before—except on Halloween—and she put two-and-two together when you were both no-shows.”
“She thinks we were together?” I tug up my shorts and slip my feet into my sneakers.
The girl snorts, standing up straight and pulling tendrils of her dark hair around her face. “I mean, weren’t you?”
Smiling, I bite down on my lip and turn back to my locker without answering.
“Exactly.” She laughs.
Turning back to her, I lean over the bench and hold out my hand. “I’m Sage.”
She slams her locker shut, ignoring my outstretched hand. “Madison.”
Dropping my arm, I turn back to my locker and close it, then sit down and start tying my sneakers. As Madison passes me, she pats me on the shoulder. “Hang in there, Hallows Girl. It gets easier.”
My face turns hot at the nickname, so I focus on tying my shoes. After she’s walked through the door back out into the gym, I grab my phone and scroll through my messages until I find my thread with Juliet.
Me
Going shopping tonight. You feeling well enough to join? Lots to tell you.
She responds almost immediately.
Juliet
Sure, I’ll meet you at your house after practice.