Chapter Four
Lilac
The next morning, I throw my legs over the bed and inhale deeply.
I recite: I’m safe. Emerson is dead. My life is peaceful. I’m not back in Buckhead. Not in the bloody living room.
The stench hits—iron, fat, chemicals—burning my nostrils. My stomach twists. I stumble to the bathroom, hurl sour acid into the toilet. Grab the mouthwash, swish the sharp mint across my tongue, spit. Nothing kills it. Nothing.
I slide down against the inky stone slab, knees pulled tight, forehead pressed against them. Chest tight. Heart hammering. Holding myself together before I fall apart.
I close my eyes, whispering,”I’m safe. I’m safe. I’m safe.”
Slowly, my pulse slows. My stomach calms. I feel a little stronger, a little more… me.
I stand up, wash my face, put my relaxed lavender hair in a bun, and throw on my cashmere sweater and leggings, my ankle boots, before heading out the door to meet Lyrical.
I inhale the moist air and look at the overcast sky, tightening my backpack across my shoulders.
Sometimes, I dread facing my friends because I feel like a fraud, lying to them about my past. I’ve never told anyone about it, and I want to keep it that way. I don’t want them to judge me for something I had no control over.
I sit at the gazebo, waiting for Lyrical, watching the needles of ice that decorate the concrete. I bundle up in my coat, set my book bag next to me, and shove my fingers into my pockets, tapping my foot on the floor.
Lyrical shows up, and I get up and hug her.
“Hey.” Lyrical sets her bag onto the driftwood floor. “What was it that you wanted to talk about?”
Her raven hair is in a neat high ponytail today, and her stormy blue eyes shine like stars. She’s gorgeous. Wearing a white leather jacket and dark jeans, she leans back in the wooden seat, crossing her legs.
I’m curious how the American Billionaire Club works, and I don’t want to ask Irvin. He might really think I want to be with him.
“I’m curious about the American Billionaire Club,” I state.
She cocks her eyebrow for me to go on.
“How does the marriage part work?”
She eyes me suspiciously. “What do you mean?”
I inhale deeply, burning my lungs, and exhale, blowing a cloudy breath into the harsh air.
“I know that it’s arranged, but does someone have to be part of the American Billionaire Club to marry a person?”
She taps her Converse on the floor. “Do you want to marry Irvin?”
I shake my head. “No. Marriage isn’t in the cards for me. He’s the one who won’t leave me alone. He keeps telling everyone I’m his girlfriend, which doesn’t make sense because he knows we can’t be together.”
“Our parents are the ones who set up the arranged marriage, but his has to go through the board for approval since Irvin will be running the club with Snow after graduation.”
The thought of Irvin marrying someone else makes my heart twist. If he’s assigned to someone else, then why does he think we can be together? Maybe he’s using me as a plaything. I don’t mind us sleeping together, but he has to stop telling people we’re together.
There’s something I want to run by her—something she can help me understand.
“Do the American Gods kill people?”
Her eyes widen, and her nose turns red. “I can’t answer that.”
“I’m pretty sure Snow does. That’s why Savannah went missing and vanished into thin air, and no one talks about it.”
She gets up from the bench and straps her book bag over her shoulder. “I can’t discuss with you the things that go on in the club, but since we’re close friends, I’m going to tell you something. But you can’t repeat a word to anyone. Not a single soul.”
“I won’t.”
She watches me cautiously, nibbling on her bottom lip. “I’m serious, Lilac. If Snow finds out that I told you, I can get into trouble.”
My eyebrows rise. “What will happen?”
She looks around the campus. “The members of the board can kill me because the women aren’t supposed to know what goes on at the club.”
The cold air bites at my skin, making the muscles in my face numb.
I swallow thickly. “Okay.”
“You remember when Savannah attacked me last year? Snow killed her. I watched him do it. They have their own justice system. They kill anyone who is a threat to them. I’m telling you this because you’re dating Irvin.”
“I’m no—”
“Once a God wants you, there isn’t anything you can do about it. You don’t have any control over the situation, Lilac. Once he gets married, you’ll become his mistress, and from what I’ve heard about Irvin, he’s never going to let you go.”
I don’t want the type of love where he’s holding on tight to me. I don’t want him obsessed with me. I’m not about to be his mistress either.
“Is that why you never mention anything about having direct ties to them and you didn’t want us around the guys?”
She nods.
I grab my own bag and we stroll across the cobblestone. Someone bumps into me, but I don’t bother acknowledging them.
Stopping at a food truck that sells breakfast burritos, we order our food then slowly walk to our classes.
“Irvin was diagnosed as a psychopath, from what Snow told me. He likes to use people like pawns. Sometimes, he kills people for the hell of it. He volunteers to do it when they go on an assignment. It’s something they all have to do before they can be in charge of the gentleman’s club.”
My face pales. My lips tremble.
The last time I was caught up with a psychopath, he ended up… hurting me.
I’ve attracted another Emerson.
My muscles tense and my breaths turn shallow. Now that I know he’s a murderer, I regret sleeping with him last year.
I want him so badly, but I need to stay away from him. I can’t be with someone like Emerson. He’s going to break my heart like Emerson did.
“So I can’t get rid of him.”
She shakes her head, munching on her food.
The smell of fresh herbs and citrus is sharp in the air.
“Do you think… Do you think he would hurt me?”
She squints up at the heavy gray sky.
“Honestly, no. He’s very fond of you.”
Well, at least he won’t hurt me, but that doesn’t ease my rapid thoughts of him harming other people. I get it. It’s part of his job, but I can’t wrap my head around it.
We make it to Newton Hall. People crowd the walkway as I open the glass door, and the warm air greets my numb cheeks.
“That’s why he’s telling everyone that you’re his girlfriend. He doesn’t want anyone pissing on his territory.” She polishes off the remainder of her food and dumps the trash in the wastebasket.
Great. Now, I can’t get rid of him, no matter how hard I try. I don’t speak as we pass classrooms.
“You don’t seem scared,” she notes.
I want to tell her about my relationship with Emerson, but I don’t.
She doesn’t need to know what kind of family I come from, and she might blame me for what happened—like the people back home did.
I haven’t been back since the murder trial.
I saw the signs of Emerson’s detachment from reality, that he wasn’t himself, but I chose not to speak up.
Lyrical goes on to speak about herself and Snow, but I tune her out.
When we arrive at our statistics class, I sit down, and my phone vibrates.
I look to my left.
My heart damn near jumps. My chest tightens, and my hands tingle.
A guy with black hair is sitting in front of me.
It has to be my imagination.
I witness Emerson’s execution. Watched the life leave his dead eyes.
When the guy turns around, I sigh in relief, and tears slip from the corners of my eyes.
It’s someone else.
My mind is playing tricks on me.