Chapter 2 #3
Maybe I should have known that there were ways for families like the Hales to stay alive forever.
But why fake a death? That doesn’t make any sense.
We left so soon after the trial and I barely remember my time at the police station, my time gripping that pen while beads of sweat ran down my face.
I was desperate to save him, desperate to save my family, desperate to leave and never come back.
Honestly, the thought always haunted me, that I was getting punished for my part in the testimony, that the reason was because I lied.
Leaving was the only option then, the only way out unscathed.
There’s no way that out of all the people in this world, he would hunt me down.
But just as I say it I realize that’s not true, because I testified against him, I lied.
I lied to protect my family and I made him take the rap for something he didn’t do because his father convinced me that they had enough money to fight it and that very day I never got a chance to talk to him to tell him I was sorry that my dad couldn’t go to prison for something he didn’t do, that our family had no money to fight what theirs did, that taking the fall meant that I wouldn’t have parents anymore.
The betrayal in his eyes nearly killed me, I was about to go back and tell the truth when the text came in.
“There’s been an accident.” That’s it. Dad came home that same day looking terrified.
With tears in his eyes he said that Jude was gone and that we needed to protect our family, he finally got the job at the University and we were moving as soon as possible.
Funny, what I tried to so hard to protect came crumbling to the ground the minute my dad got his dream job.
It’s like the minute he tasted success he was greedy for more and willing to do anything, sacrifice anything to get it, mom and I included.
There I was, allowing myself to be used, and he didn’t as much as blink when I cried the entire time to Portland.
He just said we were getting everything we wanted. The worst part? He thanked me.
I was told I wasn’t allowed at the funeral but I finally talked my parents into at least parking down the street so I could watch it from far away. I saw the casket. I sobbed, I puked behind the tree, and I whispered. Sorry. It wasn’t enough. It will never be enough.
Because in the end, instead of telling my best friend to his face that I betrayed him.
I said it to his casket from behind a tree as they lowered it into the ground.
Only… apparently he was not in said casket.
His hatred for me, his actual hatred, must run so deep that he’s sick with it. If it were me, I would hate me for the lies, so where the hell has he been all this time, then?
“Mr. Hale,” Evans says, voice tight. I know that voice: he’s pissed.
“This is… unexpected and as you can see, I’m in the middle of class, a class you aren’t currently enrolled in considering your status at this University.
That is, unless you’d like to add another degree to your impressive Harvard resume. ”
Another degree? How many did he get at Harvard? He wasn’t even really hiding away he was out living his life while I was tortured for a lie I told for seven years and yet I don’t feel like I’m allowed to be angry at him, I am though, hurt, livid, heartbroken.
I finally drag my gaze upward to really take him in.
Black jeans. Tailored jacket. That careless, expensive kind of confidence money buys and oozes power. I jump when Jude looks over his shoulder, his blue eyes lock on mine, not curious at all. As if he knew I’d be here. Not good. A cruel smile flashes across his face again. He’s out for blood. Mine.
His eyes hold a dark purpose.
I’m not a coincidence.
I’m a target.
His reputation in high school was that of a guy you didn’t mess with. Kids would transfer schools, disappear altogether to avoid it; you did not mess with him or his family. Why else would I be so freaked out with what I saw? And what his dad asked me to do?
My stomach flips—hard enough that I instantly feel hate towards him for causing such a violent reaction. It’s like seven years never happened. I still react. I still want. My soul still screams Jude.
He continues to smirk at me.
Of course he does.
“Professor Harrison,” Jude says smoothly, like he didn’t just strip the room of oxygen for the last five minutes. “I’m sorry I’m interrupting your precious class. I’ll be quick.”
Interrupting? The corners of his arrogant mouth tilt upward in a way that demands attention, commands it.
God, he really is enjoying putting Evans in his place. It shouldn’t be hot. Despite my best efforts. It is.
Evans straightens, puffing up just enough to pretend he still has control. His eyes flick to mine in annoyance then back to Jude. “Class is already in session, kindly wait outside or see me during office hours.”
“And yet,” Jude glances around lazily, then back at him, “you seem… distracted by something—or is it someone?”
A ripple goes through the room. Shit! Nobody knows right? Did he see us? Jude wouldn’t, would he? In front of everyone?
Everyone feels it. Everyone knows this isn’t about class. This is a warning shot, and I’m already bleeding without being hit.
Evans forces a laugh. “Like I said, if you have business, you can schedule office hours like everyone else, Jude, you’re not above the rules here just because of your name.”
Jude’s smile widens just slightly. Predatory.
“We both know that’s not true. Besides, lines bore me.
And I hate waiting.” His gaze flicks to me again.
Just long enough to make my pulse spike.
Then he turns back to Evans. “But, if you insist, I’ve already seen what I needed to see.
I’m all about visual confirmation of facts.
” He raps his knuckles across the table. “Pretty isn’t she?”
Evans’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” Jude grins. “See you after.”
It’s a threat. Was he talking about me or someone else?
And why does Evans suddenly look pale and why is he looking at Sandra?
She’s in the front row, hates me, only has eyes for him, and tried to trip me twice last semester when turning my paper in.
She said her foot slipped. Evans says not to make a scene considering her dads a massive donor to the school so I can’t in fact punch her but I want to every time she looks at him like she owns him.
Nice try. His mouth is mine.
Silence lingers as Jude exits the room, but I still feel his presence. I can’t exhale, not fully, I can’t take in air either, not now. Now it’s tainted with him and I swear as I try to pay attention for the next hour, I smell his cologne, and peppermint is stained on my very skin.
It’s like seven years never passed.
It’s like I never left.
And it’s like what he wanted to confirm was my presence in that room.
Which means…
He was looking for me.
No longer a ghost.
No, he’s resurrected and I seem to be the reason why.