Chapter Sixteen
Cade
T he night is still as I flick my blade open and closed, open and closed. I’m sitting with my back to the sycamore tree in front of Lamb Hall, examining each of the one-hundred windows for an inkling to which is Sky’s.
There’s enough leaf coverage overhead that the moon doesn’t hit me, and with my hood up, no one would notice me, even if they were looking. Which is to my benefit, considering I don’t know what tonight will hold and if I shouldn’t have eye witnesses.
Sky should be on the fourth floor as a senior, but she was a week late. She could have been placed anywhere. I tried to resist doing this, but I can’t let it go. I need to know where she lays her head, and who she lays it next to.
She told me on the drive back from Angel Point that her roommate was the cause of her accident, and it’s been eating at me all day. Sky may have limited time, but that time doesn’t have to resemble anything like what I’ve been through, if I have a say in it.
I push up with impatience and make my way to the doors of Lamb Hall, unable to quell my wrath any longer. I don’t know how I’m supposed to find out which room is hers besides peeking in each one, but I will, if that’s what it takes. The brass handle turns easily, and I slip inside. There’s no such thing as privacy at Hillcrest. It all hangs on the expectation of respect, which is laughable considering respect is nonexistent here. I could look down on it, but I bury it for the moment. I’m not exactly respecting any boundaries myself right now.
The main floor is a mausoleum of darkness, with not even the moon being able to penetrate the caked windows. But it’s to my advantage, and after years of being in the woods, my eyes easily adjust. My boots pad quietly on the staple red carpet of all the dormitories, and I make my way up to the fourth floor.
It’s my best shot.
The senior corridor is empty, but I tug my hood down just in case. Any one of these girls could decide they have to pee, and then their screams would wake the rest like a domino effect. I steady my breathing and stick to the walls, so the floors don’t creak beneath me, and start my hunt.
The first door on my right is well oiled and doesn’t squeak as I crack it open. Two clueless mounds sleep soundly, but I can’t make out if either of them is Sky. I tentatively push the door open farther and slink inside.
The room smells like artificial lavender. It’s not appealing, and I don’t understand how they sleep with it. I hold my breath and stalk closer until the moonlight reveals neither girl has blonde hair. I didn’t think I would get lucky on the first room, but I frown anyway and back out.
After eight rooms, I’ve learned that girls are a mess. I sleep in a shack, but at least it has order. These girls have clothes strewn about with half eaten snacks at the foot of their beds and little waste bins overflowing. Yet, all of them are none the wiser to my presence, completely unaware that someone with the gall to smother them in their sleep looms over them.
Not that I would do that.
I have a better fate for them planned out.
I’m just about to think Sky isn’t on the fourth floor when I reach the twentieth room and spot golden hair. My heart kicks in my chest at the sight of her, and I pull the door closed behind me. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet, but I know I don’t want anyone to see me in here.
I don’t move forward right away, quickly losing sight of why I’m doing this in the first place, and instead stand dumbly, mesmerized by her. The way her hair splays out around her, the slight part of her full lips, and the carefree way she sleeps has my breath coming in short bursts. Jesus, why is she so special?
I just examined almost forty other girls, and none of them stirred me this way. I know she can’t be any different from the rest. She just can’t. But what if I’m wrong? That would derail everything, and I can’t have that.
But what if I could have that? What if I could give it all up for her?
No.
She’s just a mirage. A lie. An angel trying to put me back on the straight and narrow.
I should end her now before she ruins everything.
I step closer on impulse, my hand slipping into my pocket, and then freeze when the floor creaks. Fuck. My eyes whip between Sky and her roommate, and I hold my breath, waiting for one of them to wake, to spot me and start shrieking. But neither stirs, and I breathe a quiet sigh of relief. I’m getting distracted. I’m not here to be rash. I’m here on a mission.
The roommate.
I take care to step lightly and approach the girl’s bed. I hover over her, looking her up and down. I don’t know everyone at Hillcrest, as I mostly keep to myself, and it takes me a second to recognize her without the heavy eyeliner, but it eventually comes to me.
Ruby Pelling.
I grimace.
I didn’t think she was one of them, one of my targets. Collateral damage, yes, but not my main goal. This just goes to further show how any benefit of doubt I give is a mistake. They all deserve to die. This one sooner than the others.
I grip the knife in my pocket, and nerves cause a bead of sweat to roll down my back. Contrary to the rumors, I haven’t killed anybody. Yet. I’ve been bottling up all my revenge for one occasion. It wilts me like a flower deprived of water, but I can bear the injustice for now, knowing the rain will fall like a gavel soon enough.
But I can’t bear it happening to Sky.
I won’t allow her to endure anything like what I’ve been through. I’ll take care of Ruby for her while also getting my feet wet in the process. Two birds with one stone and all that.
Blood pulses at my temples as I contemplate how to do it. Quickly, obviously. I want it to be as quiet as possible too. A slice to her jugular probably, my free hand clamped over her mouth. I should be able to slip back out into the night as if nothing’s happened. It won’t be until Sky discovers her roommate’s ice cold body, soaked in blood, that all hell will break loose, and by then I will be in Wakeman, having a shower. There’s no way this can fall back on me, and I’ll still be able to proceed with my plan. And Sky will get to be bully free for the rest of the year. It’s perfect.
I pull my knife and slowly edge the blade out.