10. Vani
CHAPTER 10
Vani
I jolt awake to a knocking at my door.
I go to sit up, and then let out a groan. Every inch of my body hurts. Muscles I didn’t even know I had protest at the slightest movement. I got lucky, though. I could have been killed out on that road. I think of whatever animal it was I swerved for, and hope the little critter appreciates my sacrifice. Maybe it’ll know to stay off the road in the future.
The knocking comes again, more insistent this time.
“One minute!” I call.
A part of me hopes it’ll be one of the Vipers, while the other part of me prays it isn’t. I need some time apart from them to get my head on straight. Every time I’m near one of them, I end up giving them access to my body, and I need that to stop. It’s as though I have zero self-control. I know part of it is down to this being the first time I’ve ever had a sex-life. Maybe if my dad hadn’t been quite so protective of me growing up, I’d have learned how not to become addicted to men like the Vipers. But it’s like I’ve been starved my entire adult life, and now I’m being offered a feast, and I can’t seem to say no.
I’m embarrassed at the way I threw Lex out last night. I definitely did not want to become one of those girls who cries when she comes. I hadn’t been able to help myself, though. The emotion of that entire night had just bubbled to the surface and all came spilling out.
He probably thinks I’m a complete freak, and he’ll have told Saint and Zane too. Maybe it’ll be enough for them to keep their distance from me, but somehow, I doubt it.
With a groan, I swing my legs off the side of the bed. Oh, my God, that hurts. It’s not even the cuts and grazes and bruises that are hurting, but the deep muscles that keep my body moving. I’ll take some Tylenol soon, but first I need to find out who’s at my door.
I pause and frown at the chair in the corner of my room. I’m sure it wasn’t in that position when I went to bed last night. Hadn’t it been near my desk? I shake my head. I must be completely losing it.
I’m wearing sleep shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, which I’d dressed in after throwing Lex out last night. I internally cringe at the memory. Fuck, he must think I’m a headcase. I’d cried and screamed at him and thrown him out the moment we’d finished having sex.
I cringe again at the thought of the sex. I really need to stop screwing those men. No matter what the truth might be about Reagan, the fact is they’re bad news.
It still hasn’t fully sunk in that Reagan is dead. It’s like I’ve lost something I never really had. Is it possible to grieve for someone you didn’t even know? She was a real person, but now I feel like she’s been a figment of my imagination all this time. I’m so confused. Confused and heartbroken and scared. I want to find out what happened to her, but at the same time, staying in this place terrifies me. If I want to get my degree and build a different kind of life for myself, I’ve potentially got years here ahead of me. How the hell am I going to cope?
A feminine voice comes from outside the door. “Vani, are you okay? We’re worried.”
I go to answer the door and swing it open to reveal three girls standing in the hallway, each with expressions of concern etched onto their pretty faces.
“Hey, you,” Angelica says. “We heard what happened. Are you all right?” She shoves a giant takeout cup of coffee into my hands. “And we thought you might need this. It’s pumpkin spice.”
I smile at her thoughtfulness and back into the room to allow them in. “Thanks. That’s really sweet of you.”
“It’s the least I could do. I felt terrible that you were so upset about what happened to Reagan. I never expected you to go racing out of here.”
I close the door behind them, not wanting the entire college to overhear our conversation.
“I can’t believe you fell off your bike,” Jarena says. “It’s all around college that you had an accident.”
My stomach sinks. “Really?”
Faith agrees. “Yeah, it’s all anyone is talking about.”
I close my eyes and hold back a groan. That’s the last thing I need. Who the hell is spreading gossip? The only people who know are the Vipers… Then I realize that’s not true at all. There’s also the security guard, and whoever was driving the truck that went to collect my bike. And let’s not forget the Preachers. It’s hardly surprising people are talking.
Plus, if anyone saw the state of my Harley, they’d assume I’d had an accident.
The girls take in the state of my scrapes and bruises.
Angelica makes a face. “Yikes, girl, you really did a number on yourself. Are you sure you shouldn’t be in the hospital?”
“I’m a bit bumped and bruised, but I’m okay.” I take a sip of my coffee. It’s hot and sweet. “Thanks for this.”
The girls settle in around the room, clearly wanting this latest piece of gossip straight from the horse’s mouth.
“And it was the Vipers who found you and your bike?” Jarena asks, her blue eyes lighting with excitement.
I consider how much to tell them. “Actually, it wasn’t the Vipers. It was these weird guys who found me—the ones who spend their time out in that old water tower. Well, one of them found me, anyway. The tall one with jaw-length dirty blond hair.”
Angelica’s jaw drops. “The Preachers? Oh, my God. They’re from North House. They’re a bunch of fucking crazies. It’s lucky they didn’t carve you up into a million little pieces.”
I give a nervous laugh. I wonder how much to tell them. I find myself embarrassed at the thought of standing in my underwear, while they cut my hair and spit into a bowl of my blood. I should have put up more of a fight.
“They were okay,” I lie. “They just used some weird ointment on my cuts and patched me up. Then I left again.”
I leave out the part about how they ended up fighting with Saint, and how I ran, and ended up in Zane’s arms. My cheeks burn with mortification as I remember how I’d rubbed against him like a dog in heat, and then ended up on my knees with his cock in my mouth. What the hell would these girls think of me? I don’t want to get a reputation for being a slut.
“So, why were you so upset about what happened, anyway?” Angelica leans forward, propping her chin on her palm. “Did you know Reagan or something? I know we’re not supposed to talk about her, but I have to ask.”
I don’t know how much to tell them. Can I trust these girls not to spread it all around school? I think of my dad, and Jarl Olsen, and how much I can’t risk my dad finding out about what happened with my mom. As much as I’m desperate to have someone on my side, I can’t risk it.
I nod and sniff. “Yeah, she was a friend of the family.”
The girls exchange glances, their eyes wide.
“You’re friends with the Olsen family?” Faith asks.
“Not exactly friends. My mom knew them a long time ago. I played with Reagan when we were little girls.”
The lies are tripping off my tongue with frightening ease. I hope no one will be able to look into what I’ve said, and that this isn’t enough of a headline news story to make it back to Jarl Olsen, or my dad.
“Shit, I’m so sorry. No wonder you were so upset. And it being the Vipers who caused her death, too.”
My cheeks warm. “Well, no one actually knows the truth, do they?”
Angelica shrugs. “I guess not, but there’s a phrase that goes ‘where there’s smoke, there’s fire.’”
I nod and glance down, twisting my fingers in my lap. There’s still a knot in my chest at the thought of her being dead. Will I ever know the truth about what happened to my sister? If the Vipers weren’t behind what happened to her, then who or what was? Maybe she was just depressed. Did she even leave a note?
“I just wish I’d had the chance to see her again. We hadn’t seen each other in years. I didn’t even know what she looked like as an adult.”
The girls share another glance, and, for a second, I think I’ve made a mistake, and they’ll question why I wouldn’t have seen any recent photographs.
“We have photos,” Angelica says.
I blink at her. “You do?”
“Sure. We knew her.”
This is news to me. “You did? How well?”
“We weren’t like B-F-Fs or anything, but we hung out every now and then.” She takes out her phone. “Oh, can I get my charger? I left it here last night.”
I remember that had been the reason for me finding her waiting outside of my room. “Yeah, of course. Sorry I ran off before giving it to you yesterday.”
“Hey, no worries. You obviously had far more important things going on. I could see you were really upset.”
I give her the charger, and she plugs in her phone, and then scrolls through her pictures until she gets to what she’s looking for.
“Here you go.”
They look pretty cozy in the photo, the three of them, and a frail-looking, pale, blonde girl in the middle, their arms slung around each other’s shoulders.
I experience a strange wave of dizziness, like something has shifted. It’s as though I’ve removed Reagan from the picture and inserted myself instead.
I stare at the girl, my breath trapped in my lungs, and use two fingers on the screen to zoom in on her face. With a sinking feeling, I realize Reagan was nothing like me, looks-wise. Where I’m dark and curvy, she’s skinny and pale. I search her features for any familiarities. Do I see my mother in the plumpness of her lower lip, and the slight upturn of her nose? Maybe. But I’m guessing Jarl Olsen’s genetics were stronger than my mother’s.
My mental version of her was completely wrong, and I wonder what else I’m wrong about.
I’m disappointed, but I guess this is also the reason no one has linked me to her. If she’d been the spitting image of me, perhaps people would have guessed what my connection to her was.
“Can you send me that?” I ask Angelica, handing her back her phone. “I’d love a copy.”
“Yes, of course.”
Her thumbs fly across the screen, and a moment later, my phone buzzes. I check it to see that I have the photo now. I plan to crop out the other girls, and just have a picture of Reagan, but I won’t tell them that.
Angelica checks the time. “Shit, we’re going to be late for class. Are you going to go? Or are you giving yourself a day off?”
“I’d better go. I don’t want to give Dean Rossi any more reasons to be pissed at me.” She frowns in confusion, and I realize she doesn’t know about me stealing the folder. I clear my throat. “For causing a scene with the crash, I mean. The last thing he needs is his students riding out in the middle of the night.”
“Yeah, I get you. He can be a real ball breaker, too.
“His son is hot, though.” Jarena gives me a wink.
“But taken,” Faith points out. “Very, very taken.”
Jarena sighs. “Shame.”
“You’re taken too,” Angelica points out.
“A girl can look.”
They all laugh, and I do my best to smile with them. The truth is, the last thing I want to do is smile. I’d like to curl back into bed and cry, but I meant what I said about not giving Dean Rossi a reason to expel me. Even worse is the possibility that he’ll go to my dad. After the crash last night, he might feel he has no choice, and that my dad has a right to know.
I can’t afford to put so much as a single toe wrong.
Angelica hops to her feet. “Okay, we’ll give you time to get ready, then.” She gives me a look that’s half distaste, half pity. “You definitely need some blush, and I’d suggest a lip stain, too. You’re white as a ghost.”
I know she’s right. I must look like death. The last thing I feel like doing is getting dressed and putting on makeup, but I also know that walking around looking like I died overnight and came back as the undead isn’t going to help matters—reputation-wise.
I need to act as though everything is perfectly fine.