Page 28 of Liar
I hurt someone last night. Thorne’s probably done the same thing many times. It’s that darkness, that animalistic rawness in him that calls to me in the middle of a school day.
“Um…” Aiko’s quiet voice redirects my attention. “I’m sorry.”
I pull my brows in. “What? Why?”
“For how I treated you.” Aiko lifts her gaze from the table, vaguely centering me in her focus. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you or insulted you the way I did. All you were doing was trying to find Savannah when everyone else gave up.”
Savannah rests a hand on Aiko’s shoulder and squeezes, nodding her head in approval. She regards Aiko with the same warmth she directed at me, but even from this angle, I notice her gaze is oddly empty. Drained and endless. My brows pull in harder.
Aiko abruptly stands, Savannah’s hand dragging down Aiko’s arm until it drops. “Anyway, I have to get going.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” I glance back and forth between Savannah and Aiko as Aiko picks up her tray, holding it so hard against her stomach that the edge digs into the soft muscles. “You were worried about your sister. She’s lucky to have someone who never accepted that she was a lost cause. Right, Savannah?”
My voice picks up at the end, my brain scrambling to solve the weird dynamic between the two of them. Aiko should be overjoyed that Savannah returned relatively unharmed. She has no idea what Savannah and I got up to last night—or who we beat up. I can understand why she’d continue to be wary around me, but why is she so tense around Savannah?
“That’s right,” Savannah answers, her attention gliding over to me. I swear, it’s like conversing with a silicone doll right now. Her two faces from the night before are gone—the girl who trembled while putting on a dress and the one who grew claws, the tamed and the vicious. It’s like those two dualities took all the energy that remained in her after being held captive for over a year.
“Aiko, you know I love you,” Savannah continues softly as Aiko shows us her back. “Never forget that.”
Aiko turns in profile. “I love you, too,” she murmurs, then leaves the table.
Throughout the strangely banal three-way conversation we were having, the rest of the table chatted about school stuff while keeping an obvious ear on us. Aurora is the least subtle, saying loudly as soon as Aiko departs, “Aren’t you lucky, Cum Bucket? All is forgiven, and you’re back in Aiko’s good graces. You got your only friend back.”
“Aurora,” Thorne warns. He doesn’t glance in her direction. Zero muscles in his face contributed to that warning, but Aurora shrinks as if he roared it. Thorne’s attention remains on me, and being the target of a flattened expression with burning, hate-filled murder eyes somehow tightens my nipples. They tingle with sensuous fear like they can’t wait to be under his command.
Or punishment.
I resist rubbing them with my palms or pinching them to remind them what real pain feels like. Thorne is not mine. I am not his.
A warm hand on mine jolts me back to the present.
“Nonsense,” Savannah says, her thumb rubbing the top of my wrist. I look down, filled with a creepy sort of awe. “Ember has me and everyone else at this table. She proved that last night, the same way I proved I still belong.” For a moment, Savannah’s eyes flash, and her stare mirrors Thorne’s. Hateful and murderous. It hits me without the erotic afterthought, however, and instead wraps around my bones like slimy green seaweed.
“I am the uncontested princess,” Savannah continues, “and I decree, along with our prince”—another warm, empty glance at Thorne—“that Ember will not be your plaything anymore. You’re finished, Aurora, both in status and in your twisted games.” Savannah’s hold tightens on my hand. I haven’t yet communicated to my arm to pull the fuck away, despite Savannah’s promise of protection.
Aurora’s mouth drops open. “But—”
“You haven’t hurt the way she hurts,” Savannah cuts in, softer now. “Your challenges mean nothing compared to hers. Until you draw blood…” Savannah shrugs as if almost killing a person is the latest viral trend that Aurora has no hope of copying. “You have no standing with me.”
Aurora’s hands clench around the table, everyone else looking on with widened stares and empty forks hanging in the air, lunch long forgotten. Only Thorne sits back, idly twirling a steak knife, the sharp blade coming close to the tender skin between his fingers before expertly circling away while he catalogs the conversation.
What is he thinking? Is this normal behavior at the cool kids’ table? I try to catch his attention, but to no avail. He’s too busy staring at her, Savannah. No, I remind myself, his girlfriend.
It finally becomes easy to pull my hand from under hers.
“I’m your best friend,” Aurora says, her tone high with hurt. “And the interim princess. I promise I wasn’t trying to steal your spot. All I wanted was for you to come back. In fact”—Aurora’s eyes knife into mine—“when it was announced your place at Winthorpe was going to be taken by an outsider fake, I fought loud and hard. Shouldn’t it be me you’re defending against her?”
I’ve never seen Aurora so supplicant and unsure. To be honest, I kind of enjoy it, especially when framed by a haircut she never asked for.
Thorne must read my amusement. His upper lip twitches, as if fighting off approval of my insatiably cruel side. A side he feeds off.
Shifting in my seat, I look away from him.
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch. Delaney’s the first to pop up while Belle cajoles Aurora to come along. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, Aurora gives up her silent pleading against Savannah’s unaffected calm and rises.
“I defend those who deserve it,” Savannah says while smiling. “We can still hang out, Aurora. I’m around for that now.”
Aurora responds with an unsure twitch to her lips, then a scathing glance at me, before following her friends out of the cafeteria.