30. Vani
30
VANI
I can’t face class, even though I know I’m skirting close to being in deep shit with the dean. I’m broken inside, and I feel sick to my stomach. I hide in my room and curl up on my bed where I cry myself into a daze.
I think I must fall into a doze. I dream of people shouting and being chased, and I cry in my sleep. How deep my grief must be for it to find me even when I’m supposed to be resting.
My phone buzzes, filtering through to my subconscious. I’d prefer to sleep, so I ignore it, but it buzzes again, and then a few minutes later, a third time. I glance at it, expecting it to be Saint, but it’s from Lex. He’s sent me a series of texts, one after the other.
Need to see you at the mansion, me and Zane.
It’s important. Can’t talk over the phone.
Don’t tell Saint. Just come.
I sniff and wipe tears from my face. His messages have an urgent vibe to them. I sigh and nibble at my nail, biting on the skin surrounding it hard enough to hurt. Saint is bound to have told his brother what’s happened, and I’m sure Lex is going to beg me to forgive his twin. I’m not sure I want to see any of them, but then I remember Zane crossing his arms over his chest, and what that means. Zane saving my life, twice. And Lex, breaking his thumb to get back to us … to me. Telling me he loved me. They shouldn’t have to pay for Saint and his sick ways.
Dragging my weary body from the bed, I head into the bathroom and try to make myself look halfway decent. My eyes are tinged red, my skin tight from my salty tears, and my face looks puffy. I still have my pride despite everything that’s happened. I keep thinking back to what Angelica said about Saint calling me fat, and that really hurts. He’s always seemed to love my body as it is, and the idea he laughed about it with someone like Angelica, a girl with the sort of body fashion deems we should all have, hurts even more.
It must be past lunchtime by now, and I haven’t eaten today. I know I need to, but my stomach is a tight knot. There’s no way I can hold anything down.
After brushing my teeth and running my fingers through my hair, I apply some concealer, lip gloss, and a coat of mascara, and step out of my dorm. I take the back way again, not wanting to see Angelica or anyone else. I hit the outside, and the fresh air is like a slap to the face, waking me up. My heart picks up speed as I near the mansion. I’m going to have to tell Zane and Lex what Angelica told me Saint did. What if they don’t believe me? Or worse, they side with him? I have an image of them shrugging and laughing at me… Oh, you thought we were exclusive, Vani? Silly you…
No, I tell myself, they love me . They’ve said so. Still, I can’t deny I fear that will be their reaction when I get there.
I knock on the door, instead of simply walking in. It opens, and I step inside, my heart in my throat and my stomach in knots.
The door slams shut behind me, and I jump and spin around. Jarena stands blocking the door, and, to my horror, she’s holding a knife. What the fuck?
“Glad you could join us,” Angelica calls from where she’s sitting on the couch.
I look around, praying for Zane or Lex to be here, but they’re not.
“What’s going on?” I keep my voice calm. “Where’s Lex? He messaged me.”
Angelica laughs. “I’m afraid he didn’t message you, babe. I did.” She holds up a phone. “Lex likes to go to the gym to work out, so I followed him in there, and he was distracted. Idiot was bench pressing his own body weight, with music blaring, and I sneaked up on him and grabbed his phone from the bench beside him. I left the music playing until I got far enough away from him. He’s probably still wondering where it is and what happened.”
Of course, those messages hadn’t been sent the same way Lex texts. He puts everything in one and doesn’t hit return every time he finishes a sentence the way those texts were written. How stupid of me not to notice.
“He’s not very bright,” Jarena says condescendingly.
I turn to her, shocked. Jarena always seemed like she lived in Angelica’s shadow. She certainly didn’t seem the sort of girl to say that about someone. Then I recall what she’d said about Zane. She called him a complete freak for having had his throat cut. That’s not nice at all, and she slavishly follows Angelica’s bitchy lead. Yeah, she’s not the victim in this, and right now, she’s guarding the door with a knife.
“Where’s Faith?” I ask.
Angelica replies. “I told her to wait outside, around the side of the house, and watch for anyone coming.”
I turn again to the door, thinking if I can get outside, Faith might help me. I don’t think she’s as evil as these two, but Jarena smirks and waves the knife, the steel glinting.
“Listen, Angelica, this is all a bit dramatic, even for you.” I keep my voice calm, flat. I want to take the tension out of this moment, and I’m pretty sure I know what this is about. “You didn’t have to get me here under false pretenses. I’ve already decided I want nothing to do with Saint. You’re right. He’s not the one for me. You can have him.” Then I add, “I prefer Zane.”
“You would like the freak best.” Jarena gives a bitchy laugh. “You’re not here because of Saint.”
I’m not?
“Ah, look, Jarena, she’s all confused.” Angelica stands and walks to the kitchen area, where she starts to open some drawers, searching through them. “You know, you’re a little slow to catch on, Vani. Not very pretty. And not very bright. Some people have all the bad luck.”
She turns from the drawer, giving me her full attention. “The fact is, I can’t risk you still being around. I tried to speak to Saint a while ago, and he seemed very upset. I do believe that upset was to do with you. You’re in the way of my plans, the exact same way your fucking sister was.”
The way she spits out the words as if they’re poison makes my spine crawl. I realize in this moment, with dreadful clarity, that Saint is right about one thing. Angelica did kill my sister. I’m sure of it.
In Angelica’s hand is a ball of twine and a bottle. Pills? What the hell do they have planned?
They made Reagan’s death look like she might have killed herself; will they do the same for me?
I glance over at Jarena. Not just Angelica, either. All three of the girls played their part. They all knew the truth about what they’d done.
Poor Reagan. Had she believed these girls were her friends, too? Had she been completely clueless until they’d turned around and killed her?
“What did she ever do to you?” I ask in a whisper.
Angelica lifts her chin and pulls back her shoulders. “Many things, Ivani . She didn’t respect me. She had Saint’s attention because of that damned play. But there were other things.”
“Like?” I demand.
“She found things out about us,” Jarena throws in. “Things we can’t have getting out, because they’d affect our future marriages.”
“You’ve slept with guys here,” I say, it all fitting together, “and she knew. You killed her to keep that a secret?”
Jarena licks her lips and shoots a glance over at Angelica. “It wasn’t that we slept with guys. We slept with each other, me and Angelica, and your bitch sister found out.”
I stare at Angelica, trying to take this in. “Wait, I’m so confused. I thought you wanted Saint.”
She glances over her shoulder at me. “I do. Reagan threatened that. She liked him, a lot. He didn’t like her in that way, or so he said, but he sure spent an awful lot of time with her, and then when she found out about me and Jarena, she might have told him.”
“Could have told everyone.” Jarena slowly shakes her head. “That would mess up our marriages. I won’t let anything or anyone get in the way of me marrying Sacha. He’s my soul mate.”
She’s moved away from the door but is still near enough to stab me if I lunge for an escape. My mind is whirring, trying to figure this out. Jarena seems more the ringleader here than Angelica, and it’s throwing me for a loop. How can I have gotten it all so wrong?
I try to think fast. “Saint wouldn’t have told your secret even if Reagan had told him.” My focus is on Angelica, but I’m keeping an eye on Jarena in my peripheral vision.
Angelica scoffs. “Stop talking about him as if you know him so well.”
“I know he likes you,” I say. “I expect he’d find the thought of you two together hot. He’s fucked up like that. He was only using me. You were right.”
It’s not hard to cry; I’m fucking terrified, so I let the tears come and hope she’ll believe they’re for Saint. “You and he are perfect. You said it. You manipulate us all like we’re little chess pieces on a board, and you two are the players.”
Jarena laughs, taking me by surprise, snagging some of my attention. “The ideas aren’t all Angelica’s. Like take all those notes we sent you.”
I gasp. “It was you !”
She glances over at her best friend and lover. “Well, Angelica helped decide exactly what to write, and we got Faith to slide them under your door. We particularly enjoyed all the photocopied ones we put into everyone’s mail slots.”
I blink back tears and think back to that day. It feels like a lifetime ago. I can’t believe I’d blamed the Vipers for that. Christ, I’d almost fallen off the tower because of that, but then I guess I’d have given these bitches exactly what they wanted. I’d have followed in my sister’s footsteps.
With the thought of Reagan, I decide I need to know everything.
“Tell me, how did you get Reagan to do it? To jump?” The longer I can keep them talking, the more I can think of what the hell to do.
Jarena smiles, but her blue eyes are as cold as ice. “Oh, she didn’t jump. Angelica and Faith lured her up there. Well, Angelica, mostly. Faith is fucking useless. It’s why she’s outside watching the door. And I pushed her.”
“You?” I stare in utter shock. “You did it?”
“She would have ruined my marriage. She was ruining my best friend’s life. All Angelica wanted was Saint. If she got him, she’d marry him, and I’d marry Sacha, and we could have carried on being married besties. It would have been perfect. Reagan threatened that, but we dealt with it, and then you came along and started poking around. Now, you know too much.”
I glance at the pill bottle. “I won’t take them.”
“You’ll have no choice,” Angelica says. “We’re going to tie you up, put you in the bath, cut your wrists and stuff these things down your fucking fat neck, whether you help or not. It will look like you killed yourself in the bath here, and even better, Saint will have to be with me, or we’ll destroy any chance he has at a future. Two dead girls in his life? Come on. I can make it look like he did it, or … I can tell everyone how sad you were about your sister, your mother, and how you told me you didn’t want to live. You doing this will give me Saint. So, I suppose I should thank you.”
My stomach churns and sweat beads across my forehead. She’s insane, and so is Jarena. I glance again at the door. I have to do something, so I walk slowly toward the table, where a heavy, porcelain milk jug sits. I had thought about how nice it would look with flowers in it, but now I think how nice it will look smashing Angelica’s skull.
Still, Jarena first. She’s the one holding the knife. I lean my hands on the table and look at Angelica. “You need to know that Saint really loves my big, fat, tits, and he’s not going to appreciate a lifetime of your B cups. I can recommend a great surgeon for you to have them improved, if you like.”
“You fucking bitch,” she explodes, the way I hoped she would. She throws a chair to one side and comes at me around the table.
Jarena turns her way, watching with wide, excited, almost manic eyes, and I take that moment, that split second opportunity, to raise the milk jug. With a scream of fury, I swing it at the side of Jarena’s head.
She reacts instinctively and jerks away, so it mostly misses, glancing off her cheekbone, but she lets out a screech of pain and fury, and lashes out at me with the knife.
“You bitch!” Jarena screams, her face bloodied from the gash the jug has caused.
I’ve still got the jug in one hand, and I’m aware of Angelica coming at me from behind. Her shock at me hitting her friend had her pausing for only a second. I swing again, this time putting my whole body into it as I spin on my heels.
The jug shatters this time, connecting with Angelica’s shoulder. I hear something else crack, and I’m pretty sure it’s not porcelain.
Angelica flies sideways and hits the floor. The shriek of agony coming from her mouth is deafening, and she clutches her broken clavicle, wailing and rocking with the pain.
Something white and hot slices into my back, and I whirl to face Jarena, waving the glinting blade at me. She’s still got a knife, and all I have in my hand is a jug handle. But growing up in an MC meant I learned to defend myself from an early age.
Hot wetness on my back from where she cut me fills me with panic, but I don’t think it’s too deep.
She lunges again, and this time I block her, raising the arm still holding the jug handle to smack underneath the hand that’s holding the knife. It flies from her grip. Then I take a step in and punch her in the stomach hard enough to wind her. She sucks in a strangled breath and folds in half.
“That was for my sister, bitch,” I spit at her.
I drop the jug handle and run for it. I pull open the door and escape outside. It’s getting dark now, and I turn, expecting to see Faith, but there’s no one here. I don’t wait for her to show herself and instead run blindly into the woods.
I glance over my shoulder to check if I’m being followed and slam into something hard and big. I scream and my hands come up, clawed in self-defense, as I scratch with all my might.
“Vani,” a familiar voice says. “Hey, Vani, it’s me. Stop.”
Lex?
“Where are they?” a deep voice commands.
I turn to see Jarl standing beside him.
Behind him is Saint, Zane, and … Faith. Her eyes are red rimmed, and she sniffs as she looks away from me, unable to hold my gaze.
“Faith came to find us,” Lex says. “She’s told us everything.”
“In return for her honesty, she will not have to come with me.” Jarl shoots Faith a glance. “She will be leaving the college, though, and her parents are aware of what she’s done. The war she almost started.”
I shake my head, frantic. “Faith didn’t do it. It was Angelica and Jarena. They confessed.”
Faith sniffs, her chin trembling. “I didn’t stop them. I’ve been a coward, and it ends now.”
Angelica runs out of the building clutching her broken clavicle, and the minute she sees Jarl, she halts. Her eyes widen. Her face pales. Her mouth drops open, and she simply stares for a beat then tries to run. The stupid girl tries to flee. Jarl and two of his men take off after her and they have her on the ground and cuffed within moments. Considering her broken bone, she must be in agony, but I have no sympathy for her.
Jarl leaves her with his men and goes inside the mansion. He returns a few minutes later with Jarena, also in cuffs. Her cheek is bleeding, and a huge bruise is developing. She’s going to be a mess.
I don’t feel guilty. These girls would have killed me. The reality of it hits, and I start to shake. I’m cold, and my teeth are chattering. My back is wet with blood, but I don’t think any of the guys have noticed I’m hurt yet. Good. I don’t want or need their attention right now. I need to get my head straight.
“You won’t be seeing these two again,” Jarl says heavily. “They won’t cause any more trouble.”
Faith wipes her eyes and turns to me. “I’m so sorry, Vani.”
I can’t bring myself to hate her. She really has saved me, but I also can’t tell her it’s all okay, because it isn’t. She played her part in Reagan’s death, and I can never forgive that. I stare at her for a beat, our eyes locked, and then I turn, stumbling toward the college building.
Lex catches up with me and grabs my arm, but I shake him off. “No, Lex.”
“But, Vani, you’re shaking, and you – ”
“No!” I shout. “Leave me alone, all of you. Just fuck off.”
I turn on my heel and run toward the college. I can’t see any of them right now. I just can’t. Lex might not have done anything to me himself, but he’s been a part of the whole toxic cycle that’s developed between me and these three men, and I just want them to give me a bit of space. I need to process things, and I can’t do that with Lex, Zane, and that bastard Saint up in my space.
Instead, I go to see Ms. Greene.
She ushers me into the nurse’s office, and I show her my wound. “I can donate to the animal shelter,” I tell her, my voice shaking.
She pulls me into a gentle hug. “That won’t be necessary. Let’s get you fixed up.”
“Thank you.”
The cut isn’t bad. She uses a couple of Steri-Strips then sticks a bandage over it. I might have a scar, but considering what else could have happened, I’ve gotten off lightly.
I stay hiding in the nurse’s office for a couple of hours. Ms. Greene gives me a nip of brandy for the shock and the pain, and it warms me up from the inside. She insists on getting me a sandwich, too, and watches over me while I eat. It feels nice to be mothered, even by a near stranger. When I’ve finally stopped shaking, I thank her for her time and escape back to my room. I’m worried I’ll find the Vipers there waiting for me, but I’m also worried that I won’t.
No one is there.
I take a hot shower, mindful of the now dressed wound on my back, careful not to get it wet. Then I get out and dress in my sleep shorts and tank top and take myself back to bed. I think I’ll stay here forever.
It’s dark, but it’s not late. Most of the students will be working in the library, or having a bite, or in the bar. I’m in my room, scared and alone. I wish I had a friend, a real friend. I’m lonely for female company. What’s wrong with me that I can’t seem to keep any girlfriends? I never had any growing up, and now I find out the three I’d believed were my friends were the ones responsible for Reagan’s death.
I curl up on my side, close my eyes, and fight back more tears.
Eventually, sheer exhaustion wins out.