Chapter 41
Forty-One
THEN | JAX
The hall is already packed like a zoo with too many people trying too hard. Sisk’s hand slips from mine as we near the entrance. She’s trying to sneak away. Not a chance. I grab it back, my grip tight enough to make a point.
“Last chance to bail on him,” I tell her.
“Jax, I already told him I’d go. As friends.” She pulls her hand away again. “I can’t just ditch him.”
I grab her hand again and grip it firmer.
“Don’t do this,” she says, finally looking at me.
“Do what? Remind you who you spent last night with?”
“I don’t want to hurt him.”
“Right, good to know where your priorities are.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither is this,” I snap, gesturing between us. “Neither is you walking in there with him.”
The noise of the hall fades out. It’s just her, me, and the knot in my stomach because I can’t stop picturing Ivan’s paws all over her.
“Fine. I walk in with him. Ten minutes. One dance, and I’m out. We meet outside and we go to The Pit. Okay?”
I grind my teeth. I still want to hit something. Still want to drag her out of here and take her home. But she’s looking at me like I’m the only goddamn thing in this room that matters.
“…Ten minutes,” I grind out.
“Ten minutes,” she repeats, relief washing over her face.
She bumps my shoulder. “Try not to punch him.”
“No promises.”
She gives me a real smile this time.
“Sisk?” Ivan’s voice breaks our bubble, and we turn.
His eyes find her first, all hopeful, then they slide to me.
I watch the whole fucking thing play out in his face: the surprise, the confusion, then the slow, sick burn of jealousy.
He wasn’t counting on me showing up, he thought he had a clear shot.
“Ivan,” I give him a smile that could curdle milk.
Kid looks like he’s about to puke. His jacket’s strangling him, the tie’s crooked, and he’s sweating profusely. He’s trying to look like a man and failing miserably.
“I thought we were going together,” he says to Sisk, trying to pretend I’m invisible.
She hesitates too long for my liking.
“Yeah, about that,” I jump in, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “She stopped by my place first. Had to get my mom’s approval.” I grin at Ivan.
“You look beautiful,” he tells her, his voice all soft and pathetic. Still trying to pretend I’m not standing right here.
“Thanks, Ivan.” She gives him a polite smile. The kind you give a cashier.
“Try not to stare too long though.” I tilt my head. “She’s taken.”
Sisk shifts tense beside me.
“Save me a dance though?” I clap Ivan on the shoulder, hard enough to make him stumble.
I turn back to Sisk, cup her face in my hands, tilt her head up, and kiss her. Hard. Letting him see exactly who she belongs to.
When I pull back, I don’t give him the satisfaction of a glance. I just murmur in Sisk’s ear, “Have fun,” and walk away in the opposite direction.
I play it cool—shoulders loose, hands in my pockets—like watching him take her arm didn’t just rip my guts out.
I turn the corner and go looking for a distraction. Preferably something in a flask. Or a fist. I pass the bathroom, the janitor’s closet, the half empty vending machines, until I hear it—low voices, hushed and urgent. Two people around the corner, completely oblivious.
“…I’m telling you, Rourke. It’s a full moon again.”
“That doesn’t mean anything.”
“It meant something last time.”
I stop and hide behind a locker. The first voice I recognize is our English teacher—Mr. Halpern.
“Look,” Halpern mutters, “you and I both know it wasn’t drugs. Cynthia didn’t knot her own hair like that. And I know you don’t believe the idea that she bargained for money. It called to her, drove her mad. This wasn’t just some girl who wanted a shiny new bag.”
My blood runs cold.
“She couldn’t have knotted her own hair,” Halpern presses on. “Not with her arms broken after the accident. The same person who knotted her hair could have dragged her there.”
Mom left those parts out.
“Keep your voice down.”
Rourke?
“Why are you even here? Why post up at a school dance unless you think something could happen again?”
“We’re just being careful.”
“Because it’s the same night. Same moon.”
“Because it’s Tar City,” Rourke answers.
“Let me ask you something,” Halpern says. “What if Cynthia wasn’t random—what if she was… chosen?”
Footsteps.
I step back fast, ducking into the hallway nearby.
“Just keep your eyes open. Pretty girls are easy targets,” Halpern mutters.
“I always do,” Rourke replies.
People walk by as Halpern and Rourke split off—
I stay in the shadows until it’s clear. Suddenly, the whole dance, the whole night, feels like a fucking joke. Who gives a shit about Ivan or a flask when there’s something real and nasty crawling around this town. All I can think about is Sisk. I need to keep her close.
I walk back to the gym, but it’s empty noise. She’s not by the spiked punch. She’s not on the dance floor. She’s not with her friends. And Ivan? Fucking gone, too.
My eyes do another lap, slower this time, slicing through the bullshit. A cold knot starts to tighten in my gut. She wouldn’t just bail, not without a word.
“Yo, lookin’ for your ballerina?” It’s Whistle, propped up against the wall like he’s judging the performance. He jerks his chin toward the door. “Pretty sure she dipped with lover boy.” A slow, shitty grin spreads across his face. “Told you, you can’t turn a ho into a housewife, bro.”
All I can picture is my knuckles splitting his lip, but the thought of her is stronger. I turn and move, his laughter bouncing off my back.
The hall is all clear. I kick open the bathroom door.
Empty. The library. Dark. I’m about to check the parking lot when I hear it.
A soft laugh, her laugh, coming from a dark classroom down the hall.
I follow it, and I don’t bother with the handle.
I shove the door open and it crashes against the wall.
“What the hell, Jax?” she yells, jumping up.
They’re huddled over a desk. Ivan’s got a knife and he’s carving into the wood like a goddamn punk.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” I bite out, my voice a raw wire. “What the fuck are you doing in here?”
Ivan stands up slow, trying to look tough. “It’s a desk. Not like you’re Mr. Respect School Property.”
I don’t even look at him. My eyes are locked on her. “You couldn’t have told me where you were going?”
“I didn’t think I needed your permission!” she fires back, her face flushing. “You told me to have fun!”
“Didn’t mean it.”
Ivan steps closer. “What’s your problem?”
“No problem at all,” I say, my voice dangerously calm. I finally let my eyes move to the desk. To the fresh cuts in the wood. Her name next to his, like they’re twelve.
“You disappear,” I say, looking right at her, “and I find you in the dark, carving your names into a desk like some lovesick puppy?”
“Jax—”
“What else were you doing in here?”
Her expression hardens, a wall slamming down. “Don’t talk to me like that.”
My hands curl into fists. “Then maybe don’t act like—”
“Alright,” Ivan cuts in. “Back off.”
I turn on him, a slow, dangerous pivot. “Or what? You gonna sweat on me?”
“I’ll say it again. Back. Off.”
His head tilts slightly, like he’s listening to something I can’t hear.
“Just him?” he whispers, his lips barely moving.
Sisk takes a half step toward him, her anger forgotten, replaced by a deep frown. “Ivan, are you okay?”
He doesn’t answer. His eyes are glassy, fixed on some point in the middle distance.
“I will,” he says. To no one.
“Ivan. Who the hell are you talking to?”
He crouches again and slowly presses the knife back into the desk.
I move closer, my own shadow falling over the desk. I read it.
SISK + IVAN = FOREVER
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, getting right in his face.
He stares past me, through the wall, his eyes wide and vacant.
Sisk’s fingers find mine, squeezing tight. It’s a reflex, pure instinct. She’s scared.
I snap. “You know, anyone else with black marks climbing up their damn hands would’ve been dragged out of here by now. But not you, huh? You say ‘lab accident’ and everyone just nods. Is it your father? Or is it just easier to ignore the freak—?”
“Jax.” Sisk grips my arm, her voice sharp. “Stop. We’re leaving.”
Ivan’s eyes slide to our hands. “You can’t stop it. It’s done.”
“What’s done?” Sisk asks, her voice trembling.
He lifts his gaze to the ceiling, a small, satisfied nod playing on his lips. “You’ll see.”
I don’t wait for him to say another creepy fucking word.
I grab Sisk’s arm and pull her out of that room, her heels clacking against the tile as we move.
She doesn’t fight me, her fingers tremble in mine the whole way out, and I know she felt it too.
Whatever the hell that was, it wasn’t just Ivan being a weirdo.
But I’m not about to risk her safety to figure it out.