“You did that for me?” I grab my fork and pop a piece of chicken and bow tie pasta into my mouth.
“We did it for her. You just happened to be an added stop on the giving train.” Byron pats me on the back as he takes the seat next to me. “We knew that, at some point, you’d wake up and realize leaving her be isn’t the way to go.”
“We fucked up, bad.” I rest forward on my elbows, squeezing the fork handle until my hand hurts.
“No matter our reasoning for what we did, I’m the one who pushed it to the place it shouldn’t have gone. You shouldn’t have to shoulder my mistakes,” Byron says, matter-of-fact.
“Well, if he’s willing to take the blame, I say we let him.” Breaker grins, shoving a large piece of chicken into his mouth. “Maybe Delaney will beat the fuck out of you from now on.”
We collectively laugh and freeze, simultaneously coming to the realization that it’s been a while since we’ve done something as simple as finding something amusing.
“Thanks, dickhead.” Byron shakes his head. “But there’s still a lot of things we need to discuss.”
We spend the rest of the night enjoying dinner and rolling ideas off each other. At the end, when we stand, we’re left with more questions than answers. I leave out the strange encounter with Reagan. If there’s nothing there to link us, I don’t want to be the one who spills the horrors she’s been through.
I still haven’t built up the nerve to ask Byron how he got to that point on the rooftop. We were only supposed to publicly scare her, in hopes that whoever witnessed it would see her as weak.
I stop halfway up the stairs and glance over the banister to see Byron stretching the stress from his neck.
“Whoever it was that forced Palmer into the woods that night, is the person who killed Reed. I know it, and we’ll figure it out, Byron,” I plead. “You may have pushed it to a place no one foresaw, but we’re willing to do something a little crazy for the ones we love.”
“All I can think about is her being alone. That’s what kills me. Every day, I imagine what she must have gone through in that dorm room. I should have been there to protect her.” He turns his head to hide the sheen in his eyes, but he’s not fast enough to stop me from seeing it.
Even the disturbed have the ability to love deeply. Byron Decatur is proof of that.
The floor creaks, and I cut my eyes to see Breaker and Dixon whispering in the hallway outside the kitchen. Their eyes widen, and their whispers become hushed. Breaker pushes Dixon away, and they go in opposite directions.
What the hell is that about? Those two are up to something.
“Listen, man, Palmer will never forgive you, and I get it, but I mean it when I say Reed will get the justice she deserves.”
“Are you doing it for me or you?” Byron asks.
“I’m doing it for Palmer. She needs to bury her sister, to feel settled for once.” I turn and head up to my bedroom.
As I lie in bed, realizing how fucked up my life is right now, I close my eyes and fall asleep. Slumber doesn’t bring the reprieve I had hoped for. Gargling water, flailing arms, and blood are on a constant loop of a nightmare.
It’s not Penelope like it usually is.
The hand that reaches out to me, fighting for survival, belongs to someone else entirely.
Chapter Four
Palmer
“How’s Rocky doing?” Breaker asks as soon as I walk into the classroom. He pushes off the wall and follows me to my usual seat.
“Delaney’s fine. Still a little shaken up, but I have a feeling it has more to do with you than me.” I slip in next to him, taking out my notebook.
“What do you mean?” The question is in his eyes. I know Breaker, though. Sometimes, I think we are made up of the same parts. He isn’t as unaffected by Delaney as he wants everyone to believe.
“Come on, Breaker. That girl likes you.” I tilt my head, daring him to deny what I’m saying.
“I’m not good for her.”
“No shit?” I feign surprise. “None of you are good for anyone, but here we are.”
“Speaking of not being good, where’s your boyfriend?”
At the mention of Marek, I sigh and rush the question out I’ve been carrying around with me. “Why haven’t you guys told Marek yet?”
I’ve walked around campus on eggshells, waiting for Marek’s verbal assault. Someone doesn’t think her dead sister is alive without dealing with repercussions. If he knew I believed this to be true, he’d be on my ass in a second, demanding answers from me.
With a gleeful smile in place, Breaker spins in his chair. This boy lives to cause trouble. The only thing is, it’s never malicious. His antics and games hold a purpose, and this is no different.
“I figured you would want to.” He shrugs, slouching down in his desk. “Not exactly my crazy theory to tell.”
“So, you think I’m crazy then?” I ask, searching for an honest answer. Insanity isn’t something I’ve ruled out.
Every night I lie in bed and think about it. What if she is alive? What if the day I thought my heart stopped beating was a lie, and she’s been walking around in the world, well and alive?
“I think a sister would do anything for her sister to still be alive.” His sad smile hits me right in the chest, surfacing an ache I try to ignore most days.
“How do you explain the necklaces? She put it in my hand, Breaker.” The mere thought of her being in the hospital room causes panic. She would’ve been close enough for me to reach out and touch, and I was none the wiser.
“Or someone put it in your hand.” He stands, placing his hands on the edge of my desk, and leans forward. “How do you know the person who’s responsible for her death isn’t fucking with you, Palmer? It could very well be the person who attacked you . . . twice.”
“I don’t know.” Sadness settles into the deepest parts of my heart.
“Listen, I know you want it to be true. Trust me, if I could do anything, it would be to bring back your sister.”
“You’re afraid I’ll get my hopes up,” I whisper, letting Breaker’s kindness soothe the sadness.
“Maybe.”
“You care about me, Barrett Davenport.” I swoosh up my nose, making a cute face at him.
“You’re like that pesky dog that won’t stop tucking itself under my arm until I give it attention.”
“HA!” I laugh. “Hardly. Just admit it, Breaker.”
“Okay, fine. I care about you. Are you happy now?” He grins as he straightens. “Now, you get to decide if you want to bring Marek into this circle of secrets, because I’m telling you, if you do, he’ll run with it. He won’t stop until he finds her.”
“Because he loves her.” Try as I might, I can’t keep the sadness from leeching into my voice.
“No, darling”— he checks over his shoulder, then returns his attention to me— “because he loves you.”
He loves you. No, that can’t be true. Why can’t I stop myself from wondering what it would be like to be loved by someone like him? The fact I’m even toying with the idea makes me want to bash my head through a brick wall to knock some sense into myself. Marek couldn’t possibly love me.