I’m almost to the back of the crowd when I hear her voice, low and sharp as she speaks to Savannah. I squeeze past the edge of the crowd and spot them.
Savannah leans against a tree and reaches for Veronica’s hand. “Come on, Ronnie,” she soothes. “After what she did to you? She deserved worse.”
Veronica hisses something in response, but I can’t make out her words.
My throat closes, and I see red. I am fire—pure passion and perfect aggression. All the frustrations from the shop today crackle inside, ready for a fight. Savannah sees me first. A smug look pulls at her purple lips, the color bold and sophisticated against her skin tone. Veronica turns, eyes flashing in the moonlight. She wipes her face free of expression, settles on her perfect mask.
Just seeing her, watching her as she watches me, makes my skin flush hot. I wish, not for the first time since we broke up, that I could forget how good it feels when her body is pressed against mine.
“What the hell is your problem, Veronica?”
Veronica drains her cup and passes it to Savannah. “Could you grab me another drink? I think Hannah needs a word.” She stares at me the whole time she speaks, like she’s watching to see how mad I am, to see how far she can push until I lose all sense of myself.
Times like this I can’t believe we ever dated.
Savannah glances between us, the victory vanishing from her eyes. She takes Veronica’s cup and stalks off toward the kegs.
Veronica raises a brow in mock concern when her friend is out of earshot. “Is something wrong? You look a little pale.”
“You know exactly what you did.”
She tilts her head. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Okay, fine, you had your little Reg friend do it.” I snort when she still looks confused. She’s actually going to make me say it. “She told Benton to ask me out. Lied and said I’m bisexual to convince him to do it.”
Veronica examines her manicure. “There’s nothing wrong with being bi, Hannah.”
“I never said there was. But I’m not bi. You had no right to lie about that.” My whole body shakes as I stifle the screams bubbling up inside. But Veronica just stands there, smug. “Why are you doing this? What could you possibly gain from making my life miserable?”
She glances up, and I swear she looks sorry. Almost. “I don’t want you to be miserable.” Veronica peers out over the crowd of dancing teens. “But you’re a cute girl. You have to learn to deal with guys coming on to you.”
“Excuse me?”
Veronica steps closer until she’s towering over me. “Isn’t being single the worst?”
And there it is. Dangling in the air between us.
A humorless laugh pushes through my chest. “Is that it then? You’ll make single life so miserable that I’ll run back to you?”
“You and I were good together, Hannah.” She brushes a lock of hair behind my ear and trails her fingers down my neck, my arm, raising goose bumps all the way to my wrist. Which is not helping. “It doesn’t have to be over between us.” She wraps her arm around my waist, pulling me forward until our bodies are flush.
My skin burns, and I’m tingling all over.
Until I recognize her touch, her possessiveness, as the same controlling bullshit that ended us in the first place.
I push Veronica away, stepping back until the cool air swirls around me. “Don’t. Just don’t. This is your fault, and you know it.” I reach into my pocket and grip the keys resting there. I need to find Gemma and get the hell out of here.
Veronica glares at me. “Rewrite our history all you want, but you broke up with me.”
“Like you gave me a choice! What did you expect me to do? Go on like everything was normal? Pretend New York never happened?”
“Yes! It was one bad weekend, Hannah. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain.” She’s close now, shouting inches from my face. Heads turn in our direction. Judging glances. Curious stares.
“I don’t want to fight about this every time I see you.” My voice is hardly more than a whisper, but I know she can hear me. The air between us tells me she’s barely breathing. “I want to move on with my life.”
“Fine.” The word lands like a slap to the face. “Take responsibility for the breakup and this stops.”
“Like hell.”
Veronica glowers at me. She starts to say more, but a piercing scream splits the night.
The music stops. Someone giggles until they’re told to hush. I spare a glance for Veronica and then race toward the source of the scream. Our classmates may need another shout to pinpoint the location, but the wind carries the panic, and the sounds of stifled sobs, right to me.
Please don’t let it be Gemma.
Someone falls in step behind me. I glance back, and Veronica is on my heels. We’re alone in our chase. For now.
The energy in the air grows oppressive. We’re close. Really close. There’s a whimper just ahead, and I rush forward through a cluster of trees and—
“Son of a . . .” I trail off as Veronica stumbles to a stop beside me. The scene before us is like something out of a bad horror film. Fire flickers a few yards away, but what captures my attention is the girl on the ground.
Covered in blood.
3
IT TAKES ME A second longer than Veronica to recognize the blood-soaked girl.
“Savannah.” Veronica rushes forward and drops to her knees beside her wide-eyed friend. “What happened?”
“I don’t know.” Savannah’s voice breaks, and she wipes at the tears on her face with one hand, holding the other gingerly across her chest. “I saw another fire, so I came to see who was partying over here. But then I slipped . . .”
We glance behind us at said fire. It’s not a bonfire, not like the one I left Benton standing beside. This looks more like someone carved a circle into the earth, maybe six or seven feet across, and set it ablaze.
“It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay,” Veronica says, but she looks at me like she thinks the opposite. The air is thick with malice. The fire burning behind us is vicious and hungry. Even the earth—usually a calm and steady element—feels shaken.
Something wicked happened here.
Veronica turns back to Savannah. “Where’s the blood coming from? Where are you hurt?”
“It’s not . . .” Savannah loses her voice to tears. I wait, worry clawing at my skin. “It’s not mine.” She looks up, and my gaze follows.