Chapter 9 Eva
EVA
The rest of the lecture passes in a haze while I sit there, gob-smacked, trying to convince myself this is real.
Caden is here. He is actually here.
I wait until the end of class before I ambush him.
“What the hell?” I all but scream, not caring who stares. “How did you… When…?”
“Okay, that was so worth it.” Caden shakes with laughter while I gawk at him with furrowed brows.
As glad as I am to have him here, I’m so confused.
Caden couldn’t afford to transfer with me, despite my relentless begging.
He had already enrolled in Manchester for the year.
This relocation would have cost him too much.
And unlike my other friends, Caden comes from a single-mother, middle-class household.
So, what changed? Did he take out a second loan or win the lottery?
“Slow the brain before you exceed the speed limit,” Caden mocks, reading the questions off my expression as he rises from his seat and swings his bag over his shoulder. “You just seemed so miserable without me. I thought I’d better come and save you before you become a national threat.”
I giggle, the sound slowly fading as I recognize the familiar phrasing he used, and just like that, my questions are answered.
“So, am I getting the grand tour, or what?” Caden asks.
“Sure.” I loop my arm through his, a practiced reflex, and lead him toward the north wing. “Fair warning. You probably don’t want to be seen with me.”
“I’ll take my chances.” He grins. “Besides, you are forgetting, I’m dangerously charismatic.”
I chuckle, working my phone with my free hand and rereading the long list of texts I sent to Dan over the last week that received no response—until now.
Are you going to call to check in?
Guess ‘Hello’ didn’t accept your bribe. Thanks for the heads-up on the article.
Hey Loki! Did karma get you already? Call me.
Dan, I’m serious. I need to speak to you. Call me. Now!
I’m miserable here, Dan. It’s this close to becoming a national threat. Call me, or I swear I’m sending Mum and Dad to haunt you.
I take a deep breath and type another message.
Thanks for Caden. Jerk!
Whatever Dan did to convince Caden, I’m beyond grateful.
With Caden here, all the Fort drama turns into background noise.
For a few blissful moments, I’m back in my old life again.
Where the only threats were my father’s endless debates, or Mum’s burnt cottage pies.
The girl who used to stroll along the Manchester streets at midnight with her best friend, high on sugar and Marvel buzz, convinced the world was a happy place.
And just like that, I suddenly feel grounded in a life that has started to feel more and more like fiction with every passing day.
Even taking the long routes, the campus tour ends quickly. I mean, I don’t even know where the pool is yet. I decide to skip my afternoon classes and wait for him at student services while the black Kingsden cat glares at me from the lamppost.
Ten minutes later, Caden returns with a pulled face.
“What’s up?”
“Student services said I have to wait a week for my accommodation. Can I crash with you until then?” he asks. “… or I can get a hotel?” He raises a brow, taking in my expression.
I would love to have Caden stay over, but after what happened last night, can I afford another audience? Unlike Thea and Penny, Caden knows my tells far too well. So what? I’m not going to add to his financial burden for the sake of vanity.
“Don’t be daft.” I shake my head. “I’ll have to run it by my roommates, but they are the best, so I’m sure they’ll agree. Just get Thea some Earl Grey and tell Penny she can pull off turquoise.”
“I can do that.” He shrugs with a grin.
My new friends were surprised to see Caden when they returned.
But as expected, Thea was more than happy to accommodate him when she saw the extravagant tea and shortbread basket on the coffee table.
Penny didn’t need any motivation. She took one look at Caden and offered to share her room. That girl has zero filters.
We planned to go to the nearby Italian restaurant for dinner, but the weather took a turn for the worse.
Dark slate rainstorms loom overhead by early evening.
Then the wind picks up, kicking twigs and pebbles across the windows.
When our phones start beeping with thunderstorm alerts, we decide to get a takeout.
A decision that would be straightforward if I didn’t have the fussiest foodies for roommates.
Caden excuses himself when Linda, his mother, calls to check in, leaving me as the deciding vote between jalapenos or pineapple on pizza. I hate both.
So, I’m thankful when my phone pings on the counter, giving me an excuse to slip away to my bedroom. But then I look at the name on my screen.
A name that should not be on my contact list, but somehow is.
Mason Grant
Don’t be late. And don’t make me come for you.
Goosebumps prick my skin, crawling up my neck and arms. My eyes flick to my bag on the desk. The hint of red spilling out of the corner, summoning me from across the room. Glancing over my shoulder, like I’m a thief in my own home, I sit on my desk and retrieve the envelope.
I have no intention of going. But I’m curious what a personal invitation from Mason Grant looks like. I rip it open, tearing the envelope on the side.
EXCLUSIVE INVITE
99
9 p.m.
Little dove
The last line is handwritten.
What the hell is little dove? Is it code for something? The urge to do an online search is too tempting. But I’m too scared of ending up on some underworld watchlist.
I chew on my lip, staring at the golden letters carved on the scarlet card for a long minute, before my eyes rise to the clock on my desk. It’s half past eight.
Air thickens around me, making every breath heavier as I contemplate my options.
What is there to contemplate?
Not only is he a manipulative psychopath, but he is a violent brute who has a vendetta against my family and me. Whatever the consequences of refusing his invitation may be, it can’t be worse than voluntarily walking into a carefully laid trap, right?
No.
I will never be alone with Mason Grant again.
My gaze darts to the closed bedroom window, rain hammering against the glass, testing the threshold, seeking a way in. I prowl across the floor to the window, my fingers curling around the edge of the curtains to peek across the street. The spot where I saw him on his bike, a few times.
I let out a long exhale. Only pine cones and fallen leaves float in a puddle below the oak tree.
“Eva,” Penny calls. “We’re starting without you.”
The sound of the opening scene of a film I wasn’t allowed to choose starts in the background.
“Coming,” I shout back and shove the invitation into my chest of drawers. Out of sight. Out of mind.
An hour later, we are deep in some hauntingly depressing film.
I didn’t even clock the title; I have been scrolling on my phone the entire time.
But when the doorbell rings, I jump to my feet and fly to the door.
It was only Jack on his late-night checks the first time and the soaked pizza delivery guy the second.
We share two pizzas and Penny’s homemade nachos. I peel the jalapenos and pineapples off, make a pile on the side of my plate, and stick to the DIY margherita.
Caden, up to his usual mischief, spills every embarrassing childhood secret I have.
So, I was rebellious. Who wasn’t?
Between my father’s strict curfews and my brother taking up the rest of my oxygen, if I didn’t fight back, I’d be chewed out.
I have no regrets. Still, I’m not a fan of my new friends getting my whole life story.
I’m trying to make a fresh start in Fort George.
When Caden is three beers down and still sharing anecdotes, I kick him in the shins in an attempt to make him stop.
At least I get all the gossip from back home, too. Sort of. He changes the subject quickly when I ask about the family who moved into our old house.
Shortly after, Thea excuses herself to study for a test. Then Penny leaves.
Her night is just getting started. Not even hellfire, let alone a rainstorm, can stop this girl from her parties.
She leaves, still deciding which of the two parties she’d be going to.
Though I know it will be both, and she won’t be back until morning.
While Caden settles in on the couch, I head to my bedroom and prepare for the night, nervous about how I’m going to survive with Caden on the other side of the door.
I change into my metallic pink nightdress and swallow my meds.
Early. Just to be sure I’m well and truly knocked out in one hour, then set an early alarm.
The loud snores from the lounge carry through the walls.
I forgot about how loud Caden is. I hope for his sake that he stops snoring soon, or Thea will kick him out tomorrow.
She doesn’t tolerate interruptions to her studies or anything that affects her grades.
Caden’s next snore is louder than the storm outside.
Jesus—not even melatonin will take effect if I have to hear that all night.
I turn around to close the bedroom door. Only to stop dead.
My hands fly to my mouth, a cold sweat beading down my spine, as I squash the scream that tears from my throat.
Caden is passed out on the couch, open-mouthed.
Mason Grant towers over him. Wild, tousled brown hair, wet with rain, droplets trailing along his leather jacket, all the way down the barrel of the pistol in his hand, before dripping onto the carpet.
Slowly, his head turns toward me, eyes dark as the night.
“I warned you not to make me come for you.”