31. Mackenzie
It’s beenimpossible to sleep.
My eyes are gritty, and my body is exhausted, but my brain refuses to switch off. I toss and turn, getting more and more frustrated with my inability to sleep. It’s still dark outside, though it’ll be light soon. It’s too early for much of the university to be awake, but I can’t bring myself to just sit in my room. I’m sick of the sight of these four walls.
I’ll grab my yoga mat and head down to the den. There’s a television down there, so I’ll do some yoga, and then curl up on the couch and watch something mindless for an hour or so until the rest of the world wakes up.
I use the bathroom, and then dress in a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt before slipping my feet into my sneakers. It feels strange making my way through the corridors when everyone else is sleeping. The thought that this place might be haunted tries to push itself into my mind, and I shiver. A girl had been killed here, hadn’t she? And what about Domenic’s mom? Maybe she still wanders these corridors in the early hours?
I can’t imagine anyone could have done something so dreadful to be forced to suffer that as an eternal punishment. At least when I slip through into the cafeteria there are the sounds of delivery trucks outside and people talking.
I hunker down as I head deeper into the bowels of the building, clutching my rolled-up yoga mat as though it might give me some protection. I’ll be fine once I get into the den, but I don’t like this part of the university.
From farther down the corridor come echoey shouts, followed by a crash and a scuffle.
It’s coming from the den.
Fuck.
I drop my mat and break into a run. Kirill’s warning rings in my ears. He said that me telling Dom and Tino would cause a war. Of course, he didn’t consider that it’s his proposal that’s blown everything up, rather than me telling them. They were going to find out eventually.
I burst through the door and pull up short. Kirill and Dom are in the middle of the room. At first, I think they’re hugging, and then wrestling, but as I catch a glimpse of blood, it dawns on me that they’re fighting. Frantically, I try to make out which one of them is bleeding, but I can’t decipher who it belongs to.
“Stop it!” I cry. “Stop, both of you!”
But they barely seem to notice me. Both are swinging for each other, letting out yells of rage and pain. They’re blind and deaf in their fury. A table has been knocked over, a lamp smashed, a book torn, the pages scattered across the floor. They’re too evenly matched. Kirill is an excellent fighter, but Dom has all that dark rage buried inside him, and now Kirill is on the receiving end of it.
Kirill brings his knee up into Dom’s abdomen. Dom folds over but straightens, grimaces, then rushes forward, his shoulder connecting with Kirill’s sternum.
They crash to the ground, a tangle of limbs and violent rage. Dom swings his fist, clocking Kirill in the jaw, and Kirill hits him right back.
They’re fighting over me. I’m responsible for this shit. I tremble with horror at what I’m witnessing.
It hurts seeing them like this. I feel every blow as though I receive it myself. I try to get in between them, but it’s impossible, as they’re so close. I’m going to end up with a fist in the jaw if I’m not careful.
I need help.
I spin on my heel and run back the way I’ve just come, no longer paying any attention to the dark or the creepy corridors. I take the stairs two at a time. My lungs are tight, my heart thumping, but I push myself until I reach Tino’s room.
“Tino?” I bang on the door. “Valentino? I need you. Open up.”
There’s no sound from behind the door. Is he even in there? If he isn’t, where the hell would he be? I know he’s not in the den. The horrible thought that he’s with another woman—maybe even Verity—jumps into my head. It’s not like we ever said out loud that we’re exclusive. I push it away because right now I have more important things to focus on.
I hold back a sob. “Please, Tino. Open the door.”
Tino’s neighbor—the same one who told me the Devils like to break their toys—opens his door instead. He frowns. “Everything okay?”
“No. Have you seen Tino?”
“Yeah, he went into his room a few hours ago. I haven’t heard him leave.”
I use my phone to call him, wondering why I hadn’t tried that to start with, but he doesn’t answer.
“Listen,” his neighbor says. “Call him again.”
I do, and I realize what he’s talking about. Tino’s phone is ringing inside the room. Just like the rest of us, Tino never goes anywhere without his phone. If his cell is in there, so is he.
A fresh worm of worry winds through me. What the hell is going on? Has something happened to Tino? Is he sick? I can’t help but relate to my own situation, thinking of how helpless I am during a seizure. I’d hate to think of Tino going through something like that.
“Can you break down the door?” I ask the neighbor.
He arches his brow at me. “Do I look like I should be in an action movie? Are you nuts?”
He might not break down the door, but I know two guys who definitely will. I’ve barely recovered from my sprint up the stairs, but I turn and race right back down them.
By the time I return, I fear they’ll both be dead.
I burst back into the den. Dom and Kirill are sitting on the floor, on the opposite sides of the room, both with their knees bent and heads in their hands. They’re bloodied and bruised, but it doesn’t look as though they’ve done each other any serious damage.
“You’re done, then?” I glare at them.
Dom shrugs. “For the moment.”
“And what the hell did any of this fix?”
“Nothing, but it made us feel better.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better, because something is wrong with Tino. He’s in his room, but not coming to the door. You need to come with me and get it open.”
Dom frowns. “He wasn’t answering my call earlier.”
“Yeah, ’cause maybe he can’t. Now get the fuck off the floor and come with me.” Kirill looks my way, and I nod. “You, too.”
Together, we run back up to Tino’s room. The neighbor is still lurking outside, though I suspect he’s drawn more by the drama than any desire to help.
Dom bangs on the door the same way I did only moments before. “Tino? Open up, dude. We need to know you’re all right.”
No response comes.
“Can you break it open?” I ask.
Kirill steps forward, pushing us out of the way. “I’ll do it.”
Instead of shoulder barging the door, he turns to put his back to it, then lifts his knee at a ninety-degree angle, and kicks backward as hard as he can. The door shudders but doesn’t give, so he repeats the process, and then one more time.
The door bursts inward.
Tino is lying on the bed on his back, but something about the way he’s positioned doesn’t feel natural. My heart lurches into my throat. I race over to the bed and shake his shoulder. He doesn’t respond. It’s like shaking a ragdoll. His normally olive skin is pale, and his lips have a tinge of blue to them.
Is he alive?
“Tino?” I cry.
Why isn’t he waking up?
Dom pries open one of Tino’s eyelids. His pupils are pinpoints, though they should be wide from the lack of light.
Dom drops Kirill’s eyelid again. “Fuck, he’s unconscious.”
I study his chest, desperately watching for the rise and fall. His breathing is shallow, but it’s there. At least he’s alive.
There’s a half-drunk bottle of vodka on the floor, and on the nightstand is a bottle of pills. Dom picks them up and reads the label. “Oxycontin. Shit.”
My head is all in a muddle. Tino has overdosed? Why would he do that? He wouldn’t do something so desperate because of me, would he? I’m not even going to try to pretend I’m important enough in his life to make such a terrible decision for. The other Devils, though, maybe? Perhaps he couldn’t stand the idea of no longer being like brothers?
The thought is powerful enough to knock the breath from my lungs. Have I done this? Have I come between them, and this is the result? I’ll never forgive myself.
The sensible part of my brain tries to remind me this is really Kirill’s father’s doing, but I don’t want to hear that right now. I’m a ball of emotion. I want to tear at my hair and drop to my knees, screaming at the sky like a character in an old war film.
Dom turns to me. “Go and get Nataniele. Now.”
I turn and race out of the room again, heading to the quarters my mom and Nataniele occupy. I know my mom will wake the moment she hears me banging on the door. One thing having a sick child gives a person is the ability to wake and be in action mode at the slightest disturbance.
Sure, enough, within seconds of me knocking, the door flies open. I hadn’t even noticed I’d been crying, but my cheeks are wet with tears.
“Mackenzie, are you okay?” She grabs my hands. “Are you unwell?”
“It’s not me, it’s Valentino. He’s taken an overdose or something. We need Nataniele.”
The man in question appears behind my mom’s shoulder. He’s overheard.
“I’ll call the doctor,” he says, already pressing a cell phone to his ear.
I don’t want to be away from Tino. What if he dies, and I’m not there? The thought strikes utter terror into me. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. How would I be able to go on in this hellhole without him? How will any of us? We all make up part of the glue that binds us all together, and we just won’t function if a part of us is missing.
Just how deeply I feel for these men hits me.
I pull out of my mother’s grip and flee back down the corridor, taking the turns until I reach the part where Tino’s room is located.
I burst through the door to find everyone in much the same position as when I’d left.
“How is he?” I ask Dom and Kirill.
Kirill looks over his shoulder at me. “No change.”
He’s as worried as I am.
Moments later, Nataniele and Mom stalk into the room.
“I’ve contacted the doctor,” Nataniele says. “He’s on his way, but he says we need to try to wake him up and keep him awake.” He stops by the bed. “Come on, Valentino. Wake up. You need to sit up.”
Maybe it’s the voice of authority that does it, but Tino lets out a groan. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to hear a sound in my life. I burst into tears, and my mom pulls me into her arms.
“He’ll be okay,” she reassures me. “Help is coming.”
When all this is over, will she question me about why I was trying to get into Tino’s room with the other two at this time in the morning? Will I have to come clean about our relationship? I picture what she’d say if I told her Kirill had proposed and expects me to have Russian babies. At this point, I’m wondering if anything I tell her will surprise her.
“Let’s get him up,” Nataniele says,
Between Dom and Kirill, they haul Tino to his feet. They’ve got one arm around each shoulder, but Tino’s head lolls, his chin to his chest, his feet dragging as they try to get him to walk around the room. I can barely see, I’m crying so hard.
Is this my fault? How could he do something so stupid? I always thought Tino was the most levelheaded out of them all. I’d been so wrong about that. It makes me wonder what else I’ve been wrong about.
Do I know these men at all?