Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-Two

Peach

Sinner - Shaya Zamora

M y heart thumps powerfully.

I hear every single beat in my ears, drumming against my brain and stopping me from thinking straight.

In the women's bathroom of the science building, I look at myself in the mirror. I’m so pale.

And I think I'm going to be sick again.

Penelope, what happened? You've made no real progress on this paper. This looks like self-sabotaging.

Professor Lopez pulled out today's Hermes post about me. A picture of me at a party, head down, straight up snorting cocaine.

It's a very old picture, Professor. I promise you. Look, my hair isn't even the same length!

The disappointed look on his face was enough to make me want to cry.

The picture exists. That's enough to give you a reputation.

Lopez's voice bouncing in my brain sends me straight back to the stall, and I throw up bile since I've got nothing left in my stomach.

The bathroom is the only updated room in the old, historical building, and I'm suddenly hating how bright it is in here compared to the creepy hallways.

Has anything happened since the last time we met?

Yes, actually. I was forced into a secret society, signed a deal with the devil so he could make me his. I lost my best friend to a murderer, but they're the same person. And I was promised life-changing information that would help me heal, yet I've seen barely anything. But the worst thing is? It's now been almost over a week since that man showed me his most vulnerable side, and I showed him mine, and I now deeply believe that he's my soulmate.

My sanity is hanging by a thread. I still don't know what Hermes wants from me. I saw what those sick men do to women at the temple. I witnessed a Hera being punished for cheating on someone she'd been forced to marry. Now what? Why did Hermes want me to see that after they blackmailed me into going to the initiations? So I could see how stuck I am? How I should behave if I don't want to end up like her?

I'm going to lose my chance at being something. Something real, outside of that vicious cycle Wren forced me into. Because I can't focus. Because all I think about is him, and his hands on my body. Him and the way he punishes, and loves me, and makes me experience every feeling possible under the sun. I want his mouth on mine, his hands on my hips, and him inside me.

I want his cruelty and his control.

And I want his love.

His. Fucking. Love.

I wipe tears from my eyes as I stand up and go back to the sink. Washing my hands, I clean my mouth and pull out the toothbrush I keep in my bag. I've done many library all-nighters before, and I always keep a little kit with me.

My eyes catch the pills I picked up earlier, and I shake my head, but then Professor Lopez's voice is back, telling me we won't be able to submit the paper if I don’t get a grip. I reach for them, fisting the small packet tightly, and pull out one of my notebooks.

I set the book flat on the counter, and then two pills on it.

Placing another book on top of it, I put all my weight down until I hear the pills being crushed. I do it again a few times before pulling out my credit card.

I need to seriously work on this paper, to focus on my future and nothing else. My biggest dream is a Nobel Prize, and Wren has reduced me to a fucking sex toy…who enjoys being a sex toy.

My lines aren't perfect, but they'll do. I bend over, press a finger on one of my nostrils…and I pause.

I would prove Hermes right. I would betray Professor Lopez. Mainly, I promised Wren I wouldn't. I haven't done any drugs, haven't even drank anything since the last time we argued about it. And he keeps me busy, loved, occupies my mind so well that I haven't felt the need to do this. I can do some fucking work without Adderall. I'm stronger than that.

I blow on the powder and dust off my books. Putting all my stuff back in my bag, I make my way to the library.

I pick a quiet table rather than the usual one people know belongs to my friends and me. This time, I'm at the back, between two giant rows of books and surrounded by a few empty tables.

No one bothers me. I'm going to be in the Environmental Engineering American Journal.

I'm probably an hour in when I feel a presence by my table. Looking up from my laptop, ready to tell whoever to fuck off, I barely hold back my surprise when I see Elijah.

"Hey," I say softly.

I don't know how to act around him.

I feel guilty for not keeping in touch with him. All because of Wren. This is the one thing I won't let my Shadow take control of. I will not stop being friends with Elijah… Or I thought I wouldn't. Because the truth is, it's been two weeks and we haven't spoken, texted, or spent any time together.

He's got a sorry face on, and I don't know if it's because he's mad at me or is about to tell me something I don't want to know.

"Can I sit down?" he asks.

I look around, realizing that some people have taken the few tables around me. On one of them, Chris Murray, Ella's boyfriend, is studying with other people from law school.

"Uh," I hesitate. "Maybe we should go somewhere else."

His eyes follow my gaze, and he notices Chris too.

"Do you think he'll snitch to your Shadow that you're hanging out with me when you're not allowed to?"

I roll my eyes. "You're saying it like I actually care what Wren says I can or can't do."

"Don't you? You're the one who wants to move."

That pokes my pride, and I narrow my gaze at him. "I was more worried for you, but sure, sit down."

He sits, putting his backpack on his lap.

"Are you working on your paper?" he asks as he eyes the books around me.

I nod. "It's not going well. I just… I want this so bad, you know? And I worked so hard on it that now I don't even know how to push myself further. But I'm no quitter."

He looks around and murmurs, "The Circle could just get you in that journal, Peach. Has Wren not offered?"

My mouth drops open, and it's hard to keep my voice down. "No, of course not. It wouldn't even cross his mind." It's never been so obvious that Wren knows me much more than Elijah does.

"Elijah, I would never want my success to come that way. I want to earn my place. Wren knows that, and he'd never disrespect me by even suggesting using the Circle to get me in the E.E.A.J."

His eyebrows pull together, and he forces a smile, clearly disliking me defending Wren.

"Of course. I'm sorry." He scratches his throat and adds, "So, has he been able to come up with anything else regarding your parents?"

I open my mouth, but shut it right away. I was about to defend him yet again.

"No," I admit quietly.

"And do you know if he's still looking?"

Elijah feels different today, less like my sweet friend. Maybe it's because I'm not used to him talking with so much confidence. Or maybe it's because Wren opened up about his family hating him, and I have a problem with how Elijah sides with his parents in the way they treat Wren at home.

"He is," I say curtly. "He'll find something."

Nodding to himself, he pulls an envelope out of his bag.

My heartbeat picks up, noticing the string sealing it shut. It's the same kind of envelope Wren had brought back to my house. The one that had the certificate in it.

I can't breathe for a few seconds, trying to keep calm, and I fail. My hand goes for the envelope, and he slaps his on top of it.

"Don't," I snarl.

"Before you open it, I just want you to know, this is going to be hard. But I'm here."

"Move. Your. Hand."

He lets go, and I snap the string rather than unroll it. Pulling out the single sheet, my heart sinks further than I thought possible.

"No," I whisper, my eyes moving faster on the page than my brain can catch up with. "No, no, no."

My throat seizes, the ball forming in there making it impossible to inhale a full breath.

Death certificate.

I look up, and Elijah's eyes are so full of sorrow it starts a storm in my head.

"My mom," I rasp. "She's…dead?" I read more, and my eyes widen, allowing tears to fall. "Oh my god," I gasp weakly.

Cause: Homicide. Bullet wounds.

"She was murdered," I choke out. "She was…she was shot."

He nods, lips pinched and unshed tears filling his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Peach."

"How did Wren not find this?" I rasp. "He's been looking."

He stays silent, his gaze dropping as his grip on his bag tightens. I need no other explanation.

"No." I shake my head. "Don't say it. Because it’s not true. He didn't know."

"Peach—"

"What do you do for the Circle?" I insist. "You clearly have more power than he does. You work with people who are more connected."

"I'm good with numbers," he explains calmly. "I'm nothing more than an accountant to help them with tax evasion."

"That's not true." But how much more can I lie to myself?

"Wren knows, Peach," he says with more strength. "The same person who gave this to me told me he gave it to him." And in case this doesn't hurt enough, he repeats, "He knows."

"But…" I croak. "Why wouldn't he say anything?"

Elijah doesn't get a chance to give me any sort of reassurance, because a shadow is right here, quick as lightning, and before I can blink, Wren is holding my friend by the collar of his uniform, slamming him against the shelves.

"Wren," I gasp, standing up so quickly my chair falls back.

"You know what, Brother?" he hisses. "You're the only person I've given multiple warnings to in my life. And yet, you never took the chances I've given you to stay. Away. From her. "

"Let him go," I hiss as I look around.

There's a crowd of hungry eyes surrounding us, all supporters of our college golden boy and looking forward to finally seeing him put his “loser” of a brother in his place. Standing closer to us, apart from the crowd, Chris Murray is watching, arms crossed, a vigilant look in his eyes.

Yet he doesn't intervene.

"You fucking snitch," I spit at him. Wren has classes in the science building until the end of the day. Chris is obviously the one who told him about this. "Can't you mind your own business for once?"

Turning back to the brothers, I freeze on the spot when I realize that Wren is done with the warnings. He's holding Elijah by the throat now, and he slams him against the shelves again, causing his brother to wince in pain.

"Look at her," he snarls in his face. " Look at her. "

Elijah's wild eyes are on me, his face red from the lack of oxygen. It's terrifying. He looks like a twig in Wren's hold.

"You do not approach her. You do not talk to her. Fuck, Elijah, I don't even want her crossing your mind. Do you understand?"

He tries to nod, but his eyes roll to the back of his head instead.

"Wren, let him go," I panic, still unable to move my body from the fear keeping me locked in place.

He releases him for a split second, only to punch him so hard Elijah loses his balance. But as he starts to fall, Wren grabs him by the throat again.

"Oh, no, no. You're not fainting on me. You're going to learn your fucking lesson," he growls. "You're going to keep looking at her while she defends you and pisses me off even further. You love when she feels bad for you, don't you?"

I notice the blood spilling from Elijah's mouth, and that finally gets me going.

"Let him go, you fucking asshole," I hiss. "At least he doesn't lie to me."

I snatch the paper from the table as I stride to them, gripping it in my hand with the same tightness I feel in my chest.

"What the fuck is this, huh?" I say as I shove it in his face.

He doesn't let go of his brother, but his face falls, guilt so clear in his eyes that I want to rip my heart out and show him what he did to it.

"Peach—"

"Let him go. Right. Now."

My order doesn't have the effect I thought it would.

"You're dead, Brother." And I hear the shift in Wren's tone. He's gone. Past what he can control.

The other part has taken over, and Elijah knows it because his eyes are screaming, He snapped!

"Don't. Don't, don't, don't." I grab him by the shoulder, attempting to pull him away. "Chris," I call out.

Elijah is on the floor in the next second, Wren kicking him everywhere he can reach as his brother cries out and puts himself in a fetal position.

Wrapping my arms around Wren's waist, I pull as hard as I can. "Chris! He's going to kill him." My throat is so tight, I struggle to scream. I'm in a nightmare and nothing I do has any impact.

"Wren, enough." Chris's voice is calm, but there's a haste in it that shows he's aware he's running out of time.

He pushes me to the side but has to try three times before he finally manages to pull Wren away. Wren fights back for a few seconds, but there's a calmness to him as Chris holds him back from behind, hooking his arms around Wren's so he can't swing as Elijah rolls to his side and attempts to stand up.

I face my boyfriend, my heart breaking into the kind of tiny pieces I know I will never be able to put back together.

"You lied to me," I croak.

He's panting, clearly not back from his trip to the other side. His shirt is ripped open, buttons on the floor from when I tried to pull him back. And his abs are covered in red marks, some bleeding, because I clearly scratched him in the process.

"You lied to me," I repeat shakily. "About something you knew meant everything to me . "

His eyes go to the paper in my hand.

"Peach, let me explain," he wheezes, attempting to catch his breath.

And that's when it really hits. Because I think a part of me was still hoping that this was all a huge misunderstanding. That Elijah was wrong. The part of me that has desperately fallen in love with Wren and would excuse him of anything just wants to believe that he would never do this to me. Not as my best friend, not as my boyfriend.

Not as the love of my life.

A fury like never before takes hold of me. Against him, against his lies, against everything he's put me through this year.

"You lied to me!" I yell as I push him.

Chris is still holding him, and he can't do anything. They don't move, and it angers me even more.

"How could you do this to me?" My scream resonates in the entire library, ripping from my throat like thunder from the clouds.

"I wanted to tell you. Please, please, listen to me. I was protecting you. Let me go ," he throws out at Chris before talking to me again. "I didn't want to hurt you further than you already were. This was too hard for you to take."

I slap him with the paper. "You don't get to make this decision for me!" His chest, his face, I keep hitting him with a single sheet of paper that rips to pieces.

"How…how…Wren, oh my god," I sob. "How could you do this to me? You made me love you, you changed me. You threw away our friendship for your selfish, obsessive love ."

I can't control my tears. The paper is crumbled, ripped, destroyed. Just like my trust. I drop the remaining piece to the floor, slapping his chest with my palms.

I lose strength quickly, and he's incapable of doing anything, still held back by Chris, who is smart enough to not get in the way.

Panting, I look up at his face. My heartbreak reflects in his eyes, his guilt seeping through me.

We are one. We are soulmates.

This was never meant to happen.

"I let down my walls for you because I trusted you to keep me safe."

Taking a step back, I shake my head.

"You ruined me."

And I turn around because I can't look at him anymore.

I hear the commotion of Wren trying to get out of Chris's hold, and then I hear the calm, "Leave her alone. Give her time,” from him as I push through the crowd of shocked students.

He threw it all away.

The way I was with him…I'd never been like that with anyone else. I've always been the strong girl. Because that's who I grew up to be and what the people around me needed me to be. The problem once you show strength is that even if you ever allow yourself not to be strong, people won't let you. It doesn't fit their narrative, and they need someone invincible they can always turn to. If you show weakness, it scares them.

It didn't scare Wren Hunter.

He pushed me to show my weaker side.

He let it happen. He tore our friendship apart to build it into a loving relationship, broke me into pieces, and put me back together so I would be made for him only.

And then he lost me.

But mainly, after weeks of falling deeper and deeper in love with him...

I lost him.

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