“You’re right, I do, but I want to hear it from your mouth.”
“She’s Reed’s sister,” I start, but stop. Flashes of memory take over. Palmer beneath me, writhing on my sheets. My silver blade resting against her pulsing throat. Her completely unmoved, willing to take whatever it is I have in store for her. “I shouldn’t equate her to something so simple because it’s more than that.”
“Is she a link I’m going to need to connect with during this?” William is far more than just our lawyer. He’s our lifeline. He’s alumni, but unlike the rest of them, he doesn’t give a fuck about the order of things.
“Palmer’s part of this. I’m sure Byron already told you how we used her to force out Reed’s killer, and it worked, until it didn’t.”
“Byron got a little knife happy.” William fills in my unsaid blanks. “I knew that bastard couldn’t keep himself under control for too long.”
William may be my lawyer, but he’s much more than that to Dixon and Byron. I don’t know much, and I think they prefer it that way. Whatever kind of relationship they have, it runs deep. William never bats an eyelash when he hears of the things we’ve done, or when we need help out of a situation. He’s one of those types. No questions asked. Swoops in to save the day and swoops right the fuck out.
“Palmer’s been attacked twice on campus, which was the whole point, but along the way, lines were crossed.”
“Feelings can’t be involved if you’re going to play games like that, Marek. You know that.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes we can’t control the shit around us, and I don’t think any of us saw Palmer bulldozing through us like she did.”
“Like sister, like sister,” William whispers. His voice is distant in remembrance of Reed. “It appears the Weston sisters have a knack for pushing into places they don’t belong.”
“Palmer is a force to be reckoned with,” I state, thinking about where things were left with us.
“Last I knew, she was still up at the house, so prepare for that force to come rushing back into your life in a minute.” William turns into the driveway and slows as we reach the front. “I saw the shit she did to you boys’ room. I thought Reed was a tough one, but it seems little sis may give you all a run for your money.”
“You coming inside?” I ask as I open the passenger side door and get out of the car.
“No, I better not. We’ll be talking soon, but in the meantime, behave as if you aren’t guilty.”
“It shouldn’t be too hard since I’m innocent.”
“Maybe for this, but I’m sure there’s plenty more skeletons waiting to trip out of you boys’ closets.” He jabs a finger at me. “Be good. Stay out of trouble, and we’ll chat soon.”
I shut the door as he starts to reverse. In the driveway, I look up at the glass house. Our sanctuary and temporary protection. The problem with glass is, one small imperfection, combined with a little friction and movement, can spiderweb outward until there’s no more stability.
Palmer’s in there. Behind the glass walls, a girl I don’t deserve to breathe the same air as is waiting for me. Why else would she be here? It’s been two days. I figure she’d be long gone by now.
I open the front door and find Breaker and Dixon on the couch, both leaning forward and staring at the television screen.
“What’s going on, boys? Miss me?” I announce my entrance. Their heads shoot to the side. Breaker’s eyes widen, while Dixon fumbles for the remote. “What has your full attention on here?”
Breaker stands and wraps his arms around me, patting me twice on the back before releasing me. “You smell like shit, and we figured better safe than sorry.”
“With the arrest and all the attacks on Palmer, we figured we’d keep a little closer eye on the things happening on campus,” Dixon says, muting the television. “After a few detectives came up here to question us, we knew having the upper hand was necessary.”
“They questioned each of you?” I ask. Although we have nothing to hide, except our relationship with Palmer, I’m threatened by the idea of them being in our space.
“As soon as Palmer left, they were up here. I don’t know if they’ve talked to her yet, but they were asking some pretty strange questions, man.” Breaker says something else, but I’m too focused on the first part to listen.
“Palmer’s not here, then?” My head spins around as if I expect her to magically appear.
Breaker and Dixon turn their eyes on each other. A mixture of confusion and worry cross over their faces.
“Did you hear anything I said?” Breaker waves his hand in front of my face. “They checked our backpacks. Even went into Byron’s bag. Officer Striker damn near jerked my necklace out from under my shirt, demanding to see it.”
“Something isn’t right about their questioning.” Dixon tosses the remote onto the coffee table.
“I need to talk to Palmer to see if they questioned her, too,” I say.
“She hasn’t answered any of my phone calls and texts. Trust me, I’ve tried. She ran out of here pretty fast.” Breaker shrugs.
“But not before—” Dixon starts to say. Breaker smacks him in the stomach, silencing him.
I’m too worried about where Palmer is to give a shit about whatever has Dixon acting weirder than usual.
“Pull up her camera,” I demand, pointing at the screen.
“I took hers down. After everything that happened, it didn’t seem right to keep it up,” Breaker says. Always the saint.
“Fuck!” I shout, clutching at the ends of my hair. Frustrated doesn’t begin to explain how I feel right now.
If she isn’t here, it means she could be anywhere. It’s been quiet on campus since our shit went down on that rooftop. None of us have forgotten someone had herded her into the woods that night. Those memories are locked into our brains pretty heavily.
“Lucky for you”—Dixon clicks the remote, and Palmer’s dorm room appears on the screen— “I don’t hold the same moral compass as our boy, Breaker, here.”
I push past them to stare at the television. For almost ten minutes, her room is empty, then from out of nowhere, she pops up in my sight. Her body is wrapped in a towel, and her hair is dripping wet.
Tension laces her spine. She’s trying her hardest to stand up straight, but the weakness is clear in her slow movements. When her shoulders start to tremble, everything in me splinters.
“Is she crying?” Dixon stands beside me. His eyes cut to me. What does he see when he looks at me? A conflicted man is what I am. “I haven’t been watching her. I installed it again, knowing there may come a time when we need to check on her. With the way she stormed out of here, I’m pretty sure we’re the last people she wants to see right now.”
“Can you blame her?” Breaker says, watching her. I’ve seen him with his little sisters. He looks at Palmer the same way he does them. Fiercely protective.
I slap Dixon on the shoulder. “Is there any way you can send her feed to my bedroom television?”
“You got it. What are you going to do?” Dixon asks.