3. Elle
3
ELLE
I t feels as if the shadows are watching me. But then again, I always feel as if someone is watching me. As if someone is constantly monitoring my appearance, my behavior, my performance. Looking for mistakes. For cracks in my perfect fa?ade. I know that I’m being ridiculous, because my parents are not even in the same state as me anymore. But I still can’t shake the feeling that someone is watching me.
I try to block out that strange sensation and instead focus on the conversation next to me.
The other girls from my sorority are seated on blankets around me. All across the park, other sororities are similarly spread out. As if it’s tradition to spend this final afternoon before the semester starts lounging on the grass and soaking up the sunlight while getting to know each other.
I shift my weight slightly on the blanket while nodding politely at what Brandi said. The change in position causes my white skirt to slide up my thigh, so I quickly readjust it until it’s lying perfectly over my leg again.
Once more, I get the overwhelming sensation that someone is watching me. The steel bands around my chest tighten. But I flick a quick glance down my body, and everything looks perfect. So even if someone is watching me, there is nothing unacceptable for them to find.
“Alright, girls,” Brandi says, suddenly raising her voice. “The sun is starting to set, so it’s time to head back to our house and get ready for the first day of the semester tomorrow.”
Several people clap excitedly. I do the same, since that seems to be the required response. Brandi nods approvingly at us.
Fabric rustles in the warm air as we all stand up and start folding up the blankets. On the horizon, the sun is slipping lower, painting streaks of red and purple over the sky. Once all the blankets have been folded up, I straighten and brush my hands down my clothes to smooth them down.
“Do you have everything ready?” Brandi asks us as we all start towards the road. “All your books? Your schedules? Your maps of campus? Groceries for breakfast tomorrow?”
I stop short.
Panic crackles through me like a lightning bolt.
Groceries.
I have forgotten to buy groceries.
There is a fridge and two freezers back at our house, but we don’t share food. We only share the space it is stored in. Everyone buys what they themselves plan on eating.
“You haven’t bought groceries?” Brandi asks, turning to look at me with raised eyebrows.
Coldness spreads through my chest and my stomach turns. Publicly admitting that I failed at something makes me physically ill .
“No,” I manage to press out. “I meant to do that earlier today but I just… forgot.”
“It’s not the end of the world,” Mei says. She’s one of the more senior girls in the sorority, and she gives me a smile as if she truly means what she said.
But she’s wrong. It is the end of the world. A mistake like this will make them all think that I’m irresponsible or lazy or forgetful. Or all of the above. Especially when it happened this early in our new friendship.
“Exactly,” Brandi fills in. “The shops are open for another two hours, so you still have plenty of time for that. You have a car, right?”
“Yes,” I reply, still feeling that panic slither through my stomach like cold snakes.
“And you know where the grocery store is?”
“Yes.”
Mei studies my face with kind eyes. “Do you want me to go with you?”
I force myself to smile while quickly shaking my head. “No, no, it’s quite alright. Please don’t trouble yourself for my sake.” Before either of them can protest, I start walking in the direction of the parking lot while calling, “I’ll just drive over there quickly and then I’ll see you back at the house.”
They call out acknowledgements and goodbyes.
My heart hammers against my ribs as I walk towards the parking lot.
How could I have made such a stupid mistake? I have barely been in this city more than a week, and I have already demonstrated my incompetence to the group of people who will be watching me most closely.
I shake my head at myself as I close the distance to my car.
Perhaps I should make everyone breakfast tomorrow? That way I can hopefully make them forget about this little mishap and create a better first impression.
Reaching into my purse, I pull out my car keys and unlock the car.
Surprise pulses through me when I don’t hear the familiar click of the doors unlocking. But the lights flashed. Which means that I must have forgotten to lock my car this morning.
Dread and panic wash over me like cold water.
God, I have only been here a little over a week and I’m already messing up all the time.
I could’ve sworn that I locked the car, but obviously I didn’t. And I reminded myself to get groceries, but I obviously forgot that too. I really need to pull myself together.
Once more shaking my head at myself, I open the door and slide into the car. After putting my purse on the passenger seat, I buckle my seatbelt and stick the key into the ignition.
Rope flashes before my eyes.
I gasp as it’s suddenly pulled tightly against my throat.
Yanking my hands up, I try to pry it off me or get my fingers between the rope and my skin.
“Don’t,” a dark voice warns from right behind me.
My gaze snaps up to the rearview mirror.
A pair of cold green eyes stare back at me.
My stomach bottoms out and fear floods my veins.
Tristan Kane stares me down through the mirror, as if daring me to disobey him.
His rope around my neck is keeping my head trapped against the headrest, and because he is sitting behind my seat, if he wanted to, he could strangle me to death without me even being able to reach him to fight back. So I obey his command and slowly lower my hands from the rope .
That’s when I suddenly realize that I was right. I did lock my car this morning. He must just have broken into it somehow. To ambush me.
Fear courses through me like electricity.
“Please,” I breathe, my voice coming out shaky, as I hold his gaze in the rearview mirror.
He winds the rope once around his hands, causing it to press harder against my throat.
A whimper spills from my lips.
Dear God, is he actually going to kill me for getting him stuck with community service two years ago?
“Start the car,” he orders, his voice pulsing with power.
I reach for the key, but my hands are shaking so badly that it takes three tries before I can get the car started.
“Drive,” Tristan says.
I do.
He gives me further instructions. Telling me where to turn and when.
The rope stays around my neck, so I obey every command.
Worry snakes up my spine, squeezing my lungs, when I suddenly find myself on a deserted dirt road in the middle of a forest. I suck in short, jagged breaths. Oh God, he is really going to kill me.
“Stop,” he demands.
My heart is thundering in my chest. If I stop the car here, he is definitely going to kill me. I should just?—
He pulls on the rope, tightening it until he’s cutting off my air.
I slam on the breaks.
The car skids to a halt at the edge of the road.
Tristan loosens his hold on the rope.
While I gasp in deep breaths, he reaches forward and turns off the ignition. Then he pulls out the keys and slips them into his own pocket. The rope slides over my skin as he removes it from my neck.
“Get out,” he says.
Without waiting for a reply, he shoves his door open and climbs out.
I dive towards my purse.
If I can just get to it and call for help, maybe I can?—
A cry rips from my lungs as Tristan yanks open my door and grabs me by the arm before I can get my phone out of the purse. The purse slips off the seat, landing on the floor, as Tristan hauls me out and throws me to my feet outside the car.
The force of it makes me stumble, and I have to throw my hand out and catch myself on a tree to keep from falling over.
A loud thud sounds as Tristan slams the car door shut.
Then he turns to face me.
The blood in my veins turns to ice.
Yellow light from the streetlamps along the road paint his face with ominous shadows. His handsome features are nothing but harsh lines, and his eyes are so cold and merciless that I suddenly forget how to breathe.
He’s wearing a black t-shirt that only accentuates just how lethal his body really is, and the tattoos covering his arms shift slightly along with his muscles when he flexes his hand.
I suddenly become acutely aware of the fact that there is absolutely nothing that I could do to stop him if he decides to kill me. Sure, I’m fit and I exercise regularly to keep my body perfect. But against someone like this, the difference in height and weight and muscle and sheer technique is so massive that I would be stupid to even try .
Fear once more flickers through me, and I cast a quick glance over my shoulder.
A gloomy forest awaits me there. The sun has almost slipped entirely beyond the horizon now, only providing the faintest of light. But it should still be enough to see by. At least for another few minutes.
“Don’t run,” Tristan says.
I snap my gaze back to him.
He cocks his head, his intense green eyes burning holes through my body.
I cast another quick glance over my shoulder.
“I swear to God,” Tristan begins, his voice dropping low and dark with warning. “If you make me chase you, I will?—”
I bolt.
My ponytail whips through the air, slapping my cheek, as I whirl around so fast that I almost lose my balance.
Behind me, Tristan curses.
But I can barely hear it over the loud pounding in my ears as I sprint right into the forest.
Branches snatch at my clothes. I blindly shove them aside as I barrel across the mossy ground.
If I can just get far enough away from him, I will stand a chance. If he can’t find me, he can’t kill me.
Terror and panic pulse through my body like lightning bolts as I run.
Why is he even trying to kill me? For a few weeks of community service two and a half years ago? It makes no sense. Why?—
A massive weight slams into my back.
I cry out in shock, but it’s cut off by a huff as I hit the ground chest first with Tristan on top of me. Twisting around, I throw up my arms to shove him away from me .
His hands lock around my wrists like manacles. I yank against his grip, but I’m helpless to stop him as he slams my hands down on the ground. While trapping my hands above my head, he settles his weight firmly on my hips. I wiggle furiously, but I’m completely pinned to the ground now.
My chest heaves with both fear and anger as I stare up into Tristan’s hard eyes.
“I warned you not to run,” he says.
“Was I supposed to just stand there and let you kill me?” I snap back, using my anger to try to sound braver than I really feel.
Light dances in his eyes. But it’s not a comforting light. It’s the cold light of ice shards and dying stars.
A shiver rolls down my spine at the sight of it.
“Kill you?” A cruel smile slides across his lips. “That seems entirely too merciful. I have something far worse in mind for you.”
My brain malfunctions and my lungs stop working. Because I can tell that he means every word. He hates me with every fiber of his being.
And I still don’t understand entirely why.
Before I can stop myself, I have asked that question.
Staring up into those rage-filled eyes, I breathe, “Why?”
For a moment, he seems genuinely surprised by the question. Then he blinks, recovering, and scoffs.
“You know why,” he says.
Before I can respond, he releases my wrists and gets to his feet in one smooth motion. I sit up, and then quickly scramble to my feet as well.
“If you try to run again, I will break your kneecaps,” Tristan warns .
I flick a glance at him, and I can tell that he means that too, so I just straighten my clothes and then fix my ponytail.
A vicious laugh, full of bitter poison, rips from his chest as he looks at me.
It sets my teeth on edge, and the flash of fury momentarily blocks out my fear.
“What?” I snap as I toss my hair back behind my shoulder.
He shoots me a mocking smile. “Always so perfect.”
He says that as if it’s an insult. Which makes no sense. But I decide not to comment on it. Since he seems less likely to murder me now, I decide to ask him another question instead.
“Why did you bring me here?” I ask, motioning at the darkening forest around us.
For a moment, he says nothing. As if he is considering whether or not to answer.
Leaves rustle as a warm evening wind sweeps through the trees. Somewhere to my left, a bird flaps away.
At last, Tristan speaks.
“I brought you here to show you that you’re on my turf now,” he says, that cruel smile returning to his lips.
It takes all of my self-control not to scoff. His turf? Bercester U is not his turf. It’s a university with thousands of students. Half of whom have probably never even heard of Tristan Kane.
“Back in our hometown,” he continues. “You might’ve had your father the mayor and the rest of your little posse to protect you. But here?” He spreads his arms wide as if to motion at the entire state around us. “You’re at my mercy.”
My heart pounds in my chest. But I just hold his gaze, saying nothing.
He cocks his head while a mocking smile tilts his lips. “Have you finally learned when to keep your mouth shut?” A harsh huff of laughter escapes his lungs. “Too bad it’s two and a half years too late.”
“So this is about that day.”
“Of course it is.”
Frustration crackles through me, and I throw my arms out in an annoyed gesture. “What was I supposed to do? They asked me if I had seen anyone leave the science lab. And I obviously saw you.”
Fury burns in his eyes. “You should’ve kept your fucking mouth shut.”
“But you were stealing!” I stare at him, shaking my head in complete confusion. “You were stealing lab equipment.”
“So?”
“It’s illegal! If I had said that I didn’t see you, I would’ve been complicit in your crime. And it’s not my fault that you made poor life choices.”
The temperature plummets several degrees. And I suddenly realize that I’ve crossed some kind of line. A massive line that I really shouldn’t have crossed.
He doesn’t get angry and loud. Instead, he goes silent. Deadly silent. And his eyes turn so cold and hard that I fear one glance is enough to draw blood.
Swallowing, I edge a step back.
“Have you ever heard the phrase ‘snitches get stitches’?” he asks, his voice slicing through the air like a blade.
And then he takes a step forward.
One single step.
But the threat in that one step is enough to make my knees buckle as a wave of fear crashes over me. I can’t fight him and hope to win. He could break every bone in my body if he wants to .
Dropping to my knees on the mossy ground, I hold up my hands in a desperate plea and surrender. “I’m sorry. Please.”
His eyes light up with wicked delight, and a smirk curls his lips, as he rakes his gaze over my kneeling body. “That’s better.”
“Look, I’m sorry that you got community service,” I blurt out. “I was?—”
“I didn’t just get community service!” The words tear from his chest, harsh and full of rage. “You ruined my life.”
Confusion swirls through me, and I slowly shake my head. “What? But that’s all that happened. You were charged and you got a few weeks of community service. You graduated like normal. You didn’t serve any time. How could I possibly have ruined your life when?—”
“I lost my scholarship!”
The words echo through the dark forest. Echo through my own brain until I feel like my ears are ringing.
Tristan blows out a harsh breath and rakes both hands through his hair. Then his eyes lock on mine again, and for the first time, I register a note of pain in his gaze as well.
“I had a full scholarship to Bercester U,” he says. It sounds as if he is dragging the words up from the depth of his soul. “But I lost it.” In a flash, the pain evaporates and is instead replaced by burning rage, hot enough to set the whole world on fire. “Because of you . Because you couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut about things you don’t understand. About something that doesn’t even affect you.”
Still on my knees, I just stare up at him in stunned silence. Shock still clangs inside my skull.
He leans down, getting right into my face.
A jolt shoots up my spine as he wraps his hand around my throat .
I suck in shallow breaths as I meet his furious stare.
“You ruined my life.” His gaze sears into me, and a muscle twitches in his jaw. “And now, I will ruin yours.”
Then he abruptly pulls back and spins on his heel. I collapse forward, bracing my palms on the soft moss, and drag in deep breaths. My heart is beating so hard in my chest that I can barely hear Tristan’s footsteps as he starts walking back to the car.
Panic shoots through me like a gunshot.
The car.
Snapping my head up, I scramble to my feet and call out, “Wait! My car keys.”
Tristan, who is already halfway back to the road, trails to a halt. Without turning around, he slides his hand into his pocket and fishes out my car keys.
I take a tentative step forward.
He turns towards me.
Because of the gloomy darkness wrapping around the trees like gauzy fabric, I can’t see the expression on Tristan’s face as he watches me in silence for a few seconds.
Then he turns to the left and throws my car keys into the forest.