Chapter 12 #2
“But you are for him,” I snap back at her, and Nico gives me a look to back off, a subtle warning only I notice. My jaw clenches tight, and I give in, forcing myself to accept that this is his choice in a world where all of them have been taken. “I’ll keep an eye out, make it quick.”
Shiloh nods once, then turns and walks towards the locker room.
Nico follows close behind her. I keep my eyes on them until they disappear behind the locker room door.
I exhale with a groan, when simultaneously, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
For a second, I ignore the vibration, then finally give in to curiosity.
I glance down at the screen, an unknown number.
I quickly swallow around the lump in my throat as I swipe to answer and place the phone against my ear.
There’s static and then a familiar voice.
“Zayden?” I freeze, every inch of my body drains of blood.
“... Fernanda.”
She chuckles softly before whispering, “I don’t have much time,” she says. “And neither does Nico.”
“Wha… What… What are you talking about?” I stammer out, my grip tightening around the phone.
“What you just heard, Nico will be dead by the end of the semester. Make sure it doesn’t happen.” With that, the call ends.
There’s no way she’s protecting him now, not after all this time.
I find it hard to believe the very woman who faked her death and had me spying on Shiloh is the same one who is calling me to warn me.
A part of me wants to believe that she had a change of heart, but I know the only reason she’s calling is to keep Nico alive, not for him but for her.
The real reason is Peter. If Shiloh still has Nico, Fernanda still has Peter…
and with that realization, my stomach turns, making me nauseous.
I stare at the locker room door, feeling the pressure in my chest begin to crush me, and breathing becomes a chore. I close my eyes, and memories of that night flood me.
The waves crash against the rocky shore as my body hums with whatever drug I took back at the party, and I look up at the night sky.
Suddenly, the sound of heels clicking against the stone path has me hiding away.
The last thing I want to do is talk to a petal.
I don’t want to pretend I'm interested in pussy when all I want is dick—and the worst part is wanting the very one I won’t allow myself to have.
From behind the stone pillar, I see the small figure of a woman. Something about her is so familiar.
“I know you’re there.” The sound of her voice freezes me in place because there’s no way, there’s no fucking way. “Zayden.”
Pressure builds behind my eyes, my hands ball into fists, and I don’t know if I want to cry tears of happiness or punch something.
“Fernanda?” Her name comes out like a question.
Slowly, I move around the pillar, taking her in.
The black satin dress clings to her delicate frame.
Brown waves pulled an updo; she looks nothing like the girl I grew up seeing.
Nothing like the woman we buried… The woman whom her brother still grieves.
The woman who’s the whole reason why we’re here.
She removes her mask, exposing those big brown eyes, and smiles.
Her wine-red stained lips, exposing a row of pearly white teeth.
She’s… she’s at the club. I glance behind me to do a double-take.
Sure, she knows what the donors do to her brother. To me.
Nico is back there… with Mr. J…
My eyes narrow, and her smile widens. I swear the ground shakes beneath me, threatening to break open and swallow me whole. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
Fernanda lets out a sigh, her fingers move between her tendrils as she lets down her hair, closing her eyes. “As you can tell...” She opens her eyes and looks at me. “I’m alive and well.”
My jaw ticks; the urge to lash out is at an all-time high. “Why?”
“Why?” she echoes. “Because I hate poverty. I hate being powerless.” This time Fernanda looks at the elegant architecture of the club, and I understand what she means by powerless, because I feel it every time he’s inside me. We are all pawns in this sick game.
“NICO!” I shout, unable to contain my rage.
“And it would all be pointless if you tell him,” she adds as if she could read my mind. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Fuck you,” I snarl, storming closer, feeling the warmth of her body radiate from her like waves. She doesn’t flinch. In her usual calm demeanor, she opens her silver clutch purse, pulls out her phone, and presses play. The sound of Mr. J's groans fills the space. “Help me, and I can help it stop.”
My lips press together, disgust overpowering any emotion I felt for the woman I once viewed as my older sister. “What do you want?”
“Simple, keep an eye on Shiloh Johnson and her besties.”
“Why?”
Fernanda didn’t answer; instead, she walked away, but not before looking back and saying, “It’s better this way. I’m afraid the truth will hurt more.” With that, she turns and disappears into the darkness.
“Zayden,” Elijah’s voice drags me out of the memory.
I blink away the rest of it, looking down at my phone.
The warning rings inside my head, making me tighten my grip around the device—it feels less like a phone and more like a loaded gun.
Elijah stops midway, his head tilting to the side. “You good?”
I offer him a middle finger, brushing past him.
Something inside me twists; the hair on my body rises as a cold current washes over my body.
I cast a glance over my shoulder, watching Elijah smile—a mask of a concerned friend.
One I can see straight through. I don’t like him.
Nico does, but to me, he’s nothing but a snake.
Shedding his skin whenever it’s convenient for him.
Very much like Safra. Maybe that’s why they get along, two snakes slithering together.
And if there’s really a mole in this place… I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s him.