Chapter 30 Reverie #4
Is Mindy Sackler truly missing, or is she in on this, too, and this is all just some extremely elaborate, fucked-up prank?
If Dread could convince a dozen girls to dress up as murder victims, surely he could convince a girl to pretend she’s missing for a few weeks.
It would be so easy for her to give him her pink hair clip, set up an obvious fake dating profile, then have her friend publicly accuse me of killing her.
Let the media roll with the accusation for a little while, create fake accounts of Mindy’s family and friends looking for her, only for her to show up one day.
Sure, it could really hurt Dread’s reputation, or even his swim career if anyone found out he put Mindy up to it, but he’s said on multiple occasions he’d lose everything if it meant finally breaking me. He’d throw it all away for his revenge.
I close my eyes, agony tearing through my insides like a child frantically searching for their favorite toy.
I knew sleeping with Dread was a huge mistake, but for the first time, I didn’t immediately consider he could be behind this. He's gotten into my head so thoroughly I completely forget who the fuck he is.
“I-I think I might know who it was,” I whisper into the phone, keeping my gaze locked with Dread’s. “I think they’re just playing another cruel prank on me.”
I’m not sure what he sees written across my face, but a second later, a flicker of hurt flashes across his eyes before he smothers it. Then, his expression instantly smooths into a blank mask, going stone cold.
“Jesus, I’m sorry to hear that,” Officer Hillcrest says, sounding disgusted. “Wait, I’m sorry—did you say another cruel prank? Do you need me to help—”
“That’s okay,” I rush out quickly, tears burning a vengeful path through my sinuses. “I’m used to it. It’s fine. I’m sorry I wasted your time, but thank you for all your help.”
“N-no, it’s not an issue at all, Ms. Adams. I’m, uh, I’m happy to assist in any way I can,” he says, stuttering over the words, like he’s unsure of what to say or do for a moment.
My cheeks heat, embarrassed I demanded my father’s parole officer call me, only for him to bear witness to me figuring out I’m just being fucking bullied again.
“Listen, I’ve sat across a desk from a lot of monsters in this world, and if this job has taught me anything, it’s how to handle them.
You can call me anytime you need, okay?”
I blink, and a tear loosens. “Okay.”
But the word is hardly above a whisper, and I hang up without ensuring he heard me clearly.
When my hand falls limply into my lap, Dread’s frown deepens, glancing at the phone’s screen to see the call has ended before lifting his gaze back to mine.
I’m so fucking stupid.
So, so fucking stupid.
Steel walls instantly slam down inside my chest. Not a single emotion can penetrate them, leaving me feeling barren and numb. For several long moments, all I can do is stare sightlessly at the floor, wondering how the fuck I let Dreadful fucking Sharpe manipulate me to this extent.
Truthfully, I have no one to blame but myself.
Slowly, I stand while he watches me closely. He’s quiet, his sharp stare lingering for an extra beat, and then he scoffs out a humorless laugh as he, too, rises to his feet.
“You think I was behind this.” It’s not a question, but a statement.
“Mind games have always been your favorite,” I say tonelessly. “You and your friends have experience creating fake dead bodies, do you not? Or did you already forget about the dummy chopped up into bloody pieces on my dorm room floor?”
He turns his gaze off to the distance and huffs out another small chuckle, nodding to himself, as if he’s coming to terms with something.
I hold out my hand. “Let me have the box, please.”
He tightens his lips into a firm line and places it in my splayed palm.
Beyond the impenetrable walls, I know hurt, disappointment, and humiliation swirl at the speed of a hurricane. But in this moment, I feel none of it.
“I knew you were cruel, Dread, but after everything, I—” I cut myself off. There’s no use trying to make him feel guilty. He never does, and he never will.
And frankly, I’m fucking exhausted.
His eyes slide to mine, giving nothing away.
“You’re just as sick as him.”
Then, I turn and walk away, keeping my pace measured. He’s probably pissed I’m not running away crying or screaming, asking how he could do this to me. He’d probably get off on it if I was.
Instead, I do what I’ve always done and refuse to break.
But it’s different this time—he’s actually succeeded.
I’m merely concealing his victory, hoping I can keep it hidden away until graduation.
Then, when it’s safe and I’ve finally escaped him, I will remove the steel walls protecting me and release the cataclysm I’ve kept contained within.
It’ll annihilate everything in its path and leave me utterly shattered, just like he’s always wanted.
Except, when the storm clears and I’m forced to sort through the wreckage to slowly piece myself back together, there’ll be nothing beneath my splintered rib cage except a black stain where my heart used to live. There will be no remnants of it, though, because it’s in his hands now.
I don’t know why I gave it to a broken man who wanted nothing more than to break me, too.
“Octavia said four words to me yesterday.”
The sudden voice nearly sends me flying out of my seat in the cafeteria.
Severen sits in the seat across from me, an apple juice box and a romance novel in hand—looks like a paranormal romance this time.
Rogue dropped me off at the cafeteria before he had to get to practice five minutes ago.
Severen was running a few minutes behind for his babysitting shift, but since it's a crowded area, they weren't worried anything would happen to me in the meantime.
I knew he was going to show up, but the asshole didn't have to sneak up on me like that.
“I’m happy for you,” I mutter before taking a bite of my Cobb salad while trying to calm my racing heart.
His amber eyes sparkle with excitement, a stark contrast to his deep auburn hair. “She said, ‘Leave me alone, Severen.’”
I pause, another bite halfway to my mouth. “And why do you look so ecstatic about that?”
He jerks his head back, his expression twisting with confusion and judgment, like I’m an idiot for not knowing the answer. “Because she talked to me. Like, directly to my face. Made eye contact. Said my name. Things she barely does now.”
“Right…” I say slowly. “But she said to leave her alone.”
He waves a dismissive hand. “I’ll take what I can get when I can get it, Rev.”
It’s almost adorable how pathetically excited he is over that. And with how hard he’s been trying to win her back, that little kernel of guilt was on the verge of popping, but not anymore. Not until I have proof he or Rogue didn’t help Dread plant those notes.
Rogue promised he wouldn't help Dread bully me anymore, but sometimes, people fucking lie. Admittedly, it’d surprise me if Severen would help and risk losing Octavia for good. She wasn’t kidding when she said she didn’t condone bullying.
After I ran off on Dread with the black box, I went straight back to his room and texted the group chat, demanding Severen and Rogue tell me if they helped him with the notes.
Both vehemently denied it, as well as denying Dread’s involvement, and as convincing as they were, I still don’t know if I entirely believe them.
Even so, we’ve reverted to somewhat of the same routine from when Dread was in North Carolina, except I continue to stay in his room while he sleeps outside the door all night.
It’s drawn attention from the other guys in the building, but I guess Dread just told them he's keeping guard due to ongoing harassment.
I'm not entirely sure if they believed him, or if they guessed the truth—I'm pissed and put him outside like a dog.
I was more than willing to go back to my own dorm, but Dread refused.
It was more understandable for the girls in my building when Rogue and Severen were out there because Dread was out of town.
Now, they're a little more likely to gossip to the paparazzi about how I won't let him in my room than the guys would.
During the day, Dread escorts me between classes or drives me to work when he can, but when he’s busy with swim practice, Rogue or Severen step in.
We spend every minute together in silence.
He’s tried and failed to talk to me, and the one time he grabbed my arm, he immediately let me go once he clocked my expression.
I’m not sure what he saw that was so different from any other time he’s terrorized me, but I’ll take my wins where I can get them.
“Speaking of progress, have you spoken to Dread yet?” I settle a dry glare on Severen while I crunch on a crouton. He tightens his lips and nods once. “Right. So, I’m going to be bold and say it, but I fear you just might be one-upping him in the torment department.”
I narrow my eyes, swallowing the crouton.
He grimaces. “Jesus, you’re intense.”
“Good. I haven’t decided if I even believe you two dickheads yet,” I mutter as I angrily stab another crouton and pop it in my mouth.
“The last time he asked either of us to help him was the kidnapping prank. Since then, he told us we’re done.
In fact, he explicitly ordered us to be nice to you.
” Then, he says with a casual shrug, “Not that he had to.
Rogue made his promise, and my chances with Octavia are already in hell. I don't need them to get any lower.”
I scoff. “I’d sooner believe he told you to lick his asshole than to be nice to me.”
Severen rolls his eyes and pulls out his phone from his coat pocket. After tapping the screen a few times, he swipes his thumb repeatedly, scrolling through his messages.
Then, he turns the phone my way, showing me a text thread between him, Rogue, and Dread.