Chapter 22
twenty-two
It’s not the soreness in my body that wakes me up sobbing for the tenth time in a week and a half.
Though, yeah. My wrists still ache from being tied to the headboard.
I miss my friend.
Naomi would’ve had me out of this mess in five minutes flat—no questions asked. Then she’d go hunt down whoever put me here…or sit beside me while I confess the truth:
I liked it. Caliphylla, save me—I fucking liked it.
She’s the only person I could’ve told. So, I do what any delusional, grieving girl does before sunrise: I talk to her ghost while I wait for Sora to wake up.
“It’s not that I didn’t want him to…”
“Did you enjoy it?” she asks, eyes already shining—because of course she knows the answer.
“Do I have to say this out loud?” I groan.
“You take joy in humiliating me, don’t you?
I’m already tied to my fucking headboard with a stalker’s belt.
” Shifting my weight, I show off the strap as she giggles while perched at the end of my bed.
Perfect hair. Perfect smile. “But yes, Nims. I enjoyed it.”
She’d laugh. Then untie me. Casually. Like I hadn’t just confessed to delighting in every second of my own destruction.
I try again to work the buckle loose, twisting my wrists against the leather, but it’s no use. At least I can reach the blanket with my toes and pull it up a bit. Just enough to keep from freezing.
“Sora!” I yell again. It’s still too early, I’m sure.
Naomi dangles a sweating water bottle in front of me. “I bet you’re thirsty after all those orgasms. Did you say he made you squirt? My little firehose? That’s what I’m calling you from now on.”
“Oh my god. I shouldn’t have told you that,” I mumble, cheeks burning. Even worse than the memory…
It wasn’t Vanq who did it.
It was Elliot.
“The guy from class,” I admit.
She gasps, all fake drama. But I know beneath it, she wouldn’t judge me.
“You like a townie?” she says, arching an eyebrow. “Good for you, honestly. Fuck these freaks. You and I both understand what it costs to live this lifestyle…and it’s not money.”
The words punch straight into my ribs.
Another tear slips down my cheek.
“You’re right, Nims… Absolutely right. Someone took you from this world. From me.”
And they need to pay.
I’ve been silent for too long.
That’s when the image of that foreboding man looming in the doorway of the escape room infiltrates my mind. I can’t look at him… I can’t. It fills me with too much terror. Immediately, my body flushes hot. Breathing shallow.
I used to dream of white dresses and taking the oath of obedience like a good servant of Caliphylla.
Champagne toasts and a man who would sharpen my resolve to ascend as we achieved our slated goals side-by-side.
One of perfection. Of leadership and private parties, Christmas cards and parent-teacher association meetings. One that would have never saved me…
That was the version of me who still believed I could be clean behind a mask.
Before the rape. Before the blood.
Vanq made me look in the mirror and admit I liked my reflection.
Can I become like him? Am I already?
“Sora!” I scream, and the doorknob rattles.
“I’m coming, but it’s locked! Are you okay?”
“No! Grab the housemother’s key, but don’t let Mrs. Salsbury in here!”
It would be so like my life if she barged in, saw me like this, and put me on blast. Olivia Marie Cardell, on the front page—tied up, gagged, soaked.
Sin Sunday, here I come.
My father would lose his mind. Northview would call it a scandal. And all I’d be thinking about is how I want to vanish.
With Vanq.
He makes my wounds disappear. Or maybe…he gives me the strength to wield them like weapons. In submitting to him, I don’t feel small.
I feel dangerous.
And maybe, finally, I’ll use my blade the way it was meant to be.
Except, when I burn, I won’t put myself out. I’ll go all the way, razing this fucking thing to the ground.
“I’m here! I’m coming! Hold on, Olivia! I’m here!” Sora’s annoying, high-pitched, worried wails make my angry tears dry up.
Now I have to calm her down while still strapped to my bed.
As she throws open the door, her face goes from panic to stone. “Um.”
“Can you please shut the door behind you and help undo this belt?”
She freezes like she’s never seen a naked body, or she’s realizing it’s me. Her president. Tied to a bed, stripped bare with sex hair and gossiping to ghosts like a girl whose mind has gone.
Her mouth opens once, closes. Then again. Like a fish trying to breathe air in a world it was never meant for.
“Sora,” I sigh, dragging the syllables like a parent sick of repeating themselves. “The belt?”
“Oh, sorry. Yes!” She blinks rapidly, then rushes forward with the urgency of someone who really doesn’t want to see more than necessary. Her eyes stay locked on the headboard, like it might explode if she looks down.
“I’m not going to bite,” I mutter as she fumbles with the leather. “Not unless you ask nicely.”
Her fingers stall at the buckle. “Was this…consensual?” she whispers.
That makes me laugh. A sharp bark of something halfway between a sob and a broken bottle smashing on tile.
“Yep. Believe it or not, some of us tie ourselves to beds for fun. Sometimes we even get untied afterward.”
She flinches at the tone but doesn’t argue. When the belt finally slips free, I pull my arms down slowly, groaning as blood rushes back. I rotate my wrists, eyeing the deep red lines wrapped around them like bracelets from Hell.
“I didn’t know who else to call,” I say, softer. “You’re the only one I trust not to lose your shit or tell my dad.”
“I wouldn’t unless you told me to,” she murmurs, backing up like I might sprout claws. “But— Olivia…what the fuck?”
That pulls another laugh from me. This one’s quieter. Sadder. More human.
“Maybe I’m grieving or healing. I think I’m unraveling in designer sheets.”
Sora stares at the ceiling. “Do you need me to stay?”
“No,” I say, eyes already drifting toward the closet. “I need you to go before I get the urge to cry again and say something sentimental like thank you.”
Relief flickers across her face as she nods and makes for the door.
“Sora?”
She pauses, one hand on the knob, but doesn’t turn back around.
“If anyone asks,” I say, dragging the blanket up over my breasts with one hand, “I was sick last night. But I’m okay now.”
She nods again, this time slower, then closes the door behind her.
Silence returns, thick and ugly. My wrists throb. Thighs ache. The smell in the room is of sweat and sex. And I have to pee.
But for the first time since Naomi died…
I don’t feel powerless. Far from it.
By Sunday, I’ve condensed myself back into a perfect shell. It’s hard to hide the fury burning beneath. With Vanq? I barely even try to stop it.
The revenge-lust simmers just under my skin, boiling until I’m sure my lid will blow.
Not to mention, at tonight’s Omega meeting, I get the duty of introducing new vice president candidates for members to vote on. Like Naomi never existed.
“Is something wrong?” Mom asks, brushing my hair off my shoulder as I perch on the balcony railing of our family cabin. Autumn has grown colder as Halloween approaches. Naomi and I would always coordinate. Now, I’ll be solo at the party.
No Hunter. No boyfriend. No illusion of protection. For the first time, I’ll attend something alone.
I can’t bring Elliot. Not without Vanq’s retaliation. And the terror of what he would do to hurt Elliot makes my stomach knot.
“Just thinking about all the plans for the Hallow’s Eve party on Friday night.
And annoyed that Iota Xi was declared winners of Terror Tuesday only because we didn’t end up with enough points.
..” I smile sweetly, avoiding her green eyes.
That’s what normal Olivia would be focused on.
But they won’t let up, gazing at the side of my face.
Her hand lands on top of mine, and I’m forced to look at her until I feel some tears form on my lower lids.
“How are you holding up? This year will be hard without Nims, I’m sure.”
Clearing my throat, I nod slowly, then swallow back a lump in my throat. “I’m handling it fine.”
“You sure? Because you missed the luncheon with the chancellor yesterday, and I think your father was hoping to introduce you to a judge there for—”
“Oh…sorry. I had a project due, and it slipped my mind.”
I turn and face the house just as Aiden strolls out and leans his elbows on the wooden perch. Probably eavesdropping for info to use later.
“I don’t think I’m ready to date anyone yet. Not after mine and Hunter’s last breakup.”
Both my mom and brother stare at me as if I just announced I was becoming an astronaut.
“Okay…that’s unusual for you, but I support it. Whatever you want.”
“Mom!” Henry yells from inside, and she brushes my arm sympathetically before going back in the wide-open patio doors.
Aiden’s voice slices through the wind. Cold. Mocking. “Not dating? You? I thought your life goal was to be the perfect appointed.”
“I think there are more important things.”
“Like finding out who sliced up Cunter? Because, honestly? Let that fucker rot in the ground.”
I gasp, and he straightens up, crossing his arms and standing in front of me with that look. The one that tells me he’s figured out everything. Or thinks he has…
“What do you know?” I ask as I glance behind him, where Dad’s making his way out here to find me.
“That his body was found in a dumpster. Cut up like butcher scraps. And that his car got shredded the same night as the Luminescence shooting—when you said you were with him.” His sparkling blue eyes narrow at me.
Then, he relaxes and licks his lower lip.
“Kudos to you, Liv. Didn’t think you had it in you.
I’d only have loved a chance to put the pieces back together just so I could slaughter him again with you. ”
My jaw drops. I almost blurt out that I had nothing to do with it. But Aiden kisses my cheek, flashes me a knowing smile, and strolls back inside…just as Dad steps out.