Chapter 31
THIRTY-ONE
A STORM IN FRATTIC
SARAH
“Let me get you a towel.” I rushed to the downstairs bathroom, grabbing one of Rae’s beach towels. “We need to get you to the hospital.”
“He slashed your tires. We’re going to have to wait until the tornado sirens stop and everyone leaves the basement to get a ride.”
Gnawing my lip, I handed him the towel and went to the window. “It’s scary out there. Should we try to get down to the basement?” Standing on my tiptoes, I could just see my car. “Connor’s not down there anymore. We might be able to make it.”
Carter winced as he pressed the blue-and-white striped towel to his side. “He could be hiding. It’s not worth taking the chance.”
I nodded, shutting the blinds. “I can’t believe he stabbed you.” Everything in me rejected the idea that Connor would ever try to kill someone, but the blood on Carter’s shirt was proof. And then there was the way he beat that wannabe burglar. . .
No, that was different.
Carter gave me a tired smile. “With the way this summer’s going, I’m not surprised. Is it okay if I go lie down on the couch?”
“Oh, yeah! Sorry.” I helped him onto the long, worn couch.
Carter sat slowly, arranging his body carefully across the faded flower cushions. “I’ll try not to get blood everywhere.”
I chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. These couches have been through worse.”
He lifted an eyebrow, and we both laughed.
“Okay, maybe not worse than being stabbed.”
A massive gust of wind rattled the old windows, and the lights flickered.
“Great. That’s just what we need—the power to go out.”
Carter groaned, and I knelt beside him. “How can I help you?”
He caught my hand and squeezed it. “You’re doing it right now.”
I shook my head and frowned down at the beach towel. “I just can’t believe Connor did that.”
“I mean, it’s not like he’s playing with a full deck. The guy had your panties and pictures hidden under his bed.”
My hands froze. I’d never told him where I found the box, or that there were pictures. When I’d run into Duncan and Carter going into the Wel, they’d seen the panties and my panic. I racked my brain, trying to recall our exact conversation, but adrenaline had robbed me of my memory.
Smiling, I said, “You’re right. Let me get you a glass of water.”
Carter tilted his head, studying me before giving me a gentle smile and saying, “Thanks.”
Hurrying into the kitchen, I took a deep breath.
I’m just being paranoid. I must’ve told him.
I filled a glass, my gaze drifting to the window.
Is he still out there? Is he okay?
“You all right?” Carter’s voice startled me, and I dropped the glass in the sink.
“Shit,” I gasped, my hand covering my racing heart. Clearing my throat, I gave him a shaky smile. “Yeah, this storm is just freaking me out.”
Carter stepped closer, his movement no longer stilted.
“Where’s the towel?” My eyes fell on what no longer looked like a wound but rather blood wiped on a shirt.
He glanced over his shoulder. “What happened? You’re being weird.”
“What do you mean?” Dread pooled in my belly.
This is all wrong.
“Ah. I fucked up,” Carter said with a carefree laugh. “I wasn’t supposed to know about the shoebox, huh?” Nodding to himself, he leaned against the counter.
“I, uh, told you about it. Outside the Wel, right?” I reached into the sink, wrapping my hand around the bottom of the broken glass.
Tsking, he pointed at the sink. “You don’t want to do that.”
“I’m just cleaning up,” I said, my voice coming out uneven.
Maybe if I play stupid, I can get away. I am just a rich sorority girl after all.
Carter reached behind his back and placed a large knife on the counter. “Put the glass down.”
I dropped it as if it burned me. “What are you doing with that knife?”
“We need to have a little chat, and I want to make sure I have your attention.”
Taking a step back, I hit the wall next to the door. I sized him up, quickly realizing there was no way in hell I was outrunning him. “Okay?”
Carter grinned, his gums bloody from the fight with Connor.
Connor!
I glanced hopelessly at the door. He was outside during a tornado, likely bleeding out next to my car, or worse, dead. Guilt overwhelmed me as I thought of his confused expression when I yelled at him. And now I’d probably gotten him killed.
Tears welled in my eyes, and I swallowed back a sob.
I guess we’ll be even soon.
“None of that,” Carter said, pointing the tip of his knife at me.
I sucked in a deep breath, wiping my cheeks with the palms of my hands. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t steady my breathing.
“Fuck. This isn’t how I wanted it to go.” Carter started to pace back and forth, his gaze locked on me as he muttered to himself.
“Are you going to kill me?” I asked, my voice breaking as I flattened against the wall.
Carter stopped moving. “That all depends on you, Sarah.”
Hearing my name come out of his mouth made my skin crawl. How had I never noticed what a slimeball he was?
I twisted my trembling hands in front of me and nodded.
“Great. Why don’t we go sit in the living room?” He stepped aside, making space for me to pass.
Summoning all my courage, I walked to the living room as if it were a typical day and there weren’t tornadoes and a psycho holding me at knifepoint.
“Sit,” he said, gesturing with the knife.
I did, and then I waited.
Carter perched on the arm of the loveseat across from me and smiled. “Do you remember the first time we met?”
Of course I didn’t. He was one of a hundred or so frat boys to stagger in and out of my social circle.
“Um, during rush, freshman year?” A safe bet considering all the events. I kind of remembered him being around during Homecoming.
He laughed and shook his head. “We were thirteen.”
I frowned, desperately combing through memories from nearly a decade ago.
“We were at the country club, and our parents made us have dinner together.”
A flicker of a memory surfaced, and I slowly nodded. “Your dad owns those boutique hotels, and Dad wanted to furnish them.”
Carter pointed the knife at me with a smile. “You do remember.”
“I don’t understand what that has to do with any of this.”
“That night, I decided you were the one. Imagine how disappointed my parents were when I chose this shitty little college and not one of the Ivies they had their hearts set on. But I couldn’t be too far from my girl.”
“Northeast is an honors college,” I said, my mouth spewing nonsense before my brain caught up. My parents had begged me to at least go to Washington University, but choosing the small liberal arts college had been my rebellion. I didn’t like this maniac judging my attempts at freedom.
Carter laughed, morphing into that charming asshole I’d taken to formal. “You really do love slumming it.”
My face heated, but I bit my cheek to keep from saying something that would make him stabby.
He shook his head, standing up to casually inspect the various knick-knacks and pieces of art Britta and I had decorated Frattic with. “Remember your first boyfriend, Liam?”
The boy I’d lost my virginity to senior year of high school. He never called me after that night, marking the beginning of a short list of dating attempts that ended before they ever truly began.
“Yes,” I whispered, my fingernails digging into my thighs.
His blue eyes narrowed, his smile twisting into something more menacing. “You let that bag boy fuck you on prom night. What a fucking cliché,” he scoffed.
A cold fear settled in me. “What did you do?”
“You catch on quick.” Carter grinned. “To him? Nothing. All it took was a thousand dollars, and he moved on to the next rich girl with low standards. Now, your next two boyfriends took a little more effort to get rid of.”
Brian and Sean. Brian broke up with me after he failed out of freshman year, and Sean broke up with me after he got in a car accident and transferred to a school closer to home.
“You did that?”
He nodded. “And it was worth it. I had you all to myself for a year, and then you invited me to formal. Do you have any idea how fucking happy I was?”
My heart raced. This guy was honestly delusional. He never had me. The only reason I even invited him to formal was because Olivia’s boyfriend, Michael, asked me to. Carter represented everything my parents wanted me to date, which made him totally undatable in my eyes.
Clearly, my instincts to avoid him weren’t wrong.
Carter rounded the coffee table and sat on the edge, putting him and his knife just a foot away from me.
“You looked so beautiful that night.” He shut his eyes as if he were drawing up the memory.
“I thought our time had finally come, but nope. I waited for you to come around, but that never happened, so I took the initiative and asked you out for Valentine’s Day. ”
“And I said no,” I muttered. It hadn’t felt that serious when he asked me, but now I was seeing our entire friendship differently. The way he was always around at parties, always wanting to partner up for beer pong. He’d been playing a long game.
“That you did, which is fine, whatever. I figured it would take a while to wear you down. While I waited for you, I had to endure Emma constantly in my ear, talking shit about you. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore.”
“Emma was an accident. She-she fell.”
His lips spread into a toothy, bloody grin. “I gave her a hand.”
I leaned away from him in horror.
“After that, I felt so much better. I didn’t have to hear her constant complaining, and I could focus on you again.”
At the time, I’d brushed it all off as a little crush, but now it was clear I’d been writing a lot off as basic pushy guy behavior.
“Then you met Connor.” He barked out a laugh. “My own fucking brother.”
“Wait, what?”
Carter rested his chin on his knuckles. “Don’t you see the similarities?” He batted his eyelashes. “We both take after our dad.”