Angry God Page 27
“None of your business.”
“Are you guys, like, friends?”
God, no. He just kissed me twice, and made me fantasize about sucking his blood.
A throaty laugh escaped me. “If you like him so much, you shouldn’t have sucked his best mate off.” I’d heard the rumor that she was with Knight before senior year started.
Arabella pinched my nose hard, squeezing more blood out of it. She released it when I started coughing. My eyes watered, but I held back the tears.
“Look at her, Bella. She’s shitting her pants.”
“I think the nasty smell is coming from your mouth.” My voice rang unsteady, even to my own ears.
“Maybe she’s just his little bitch. Is that it?” Alice pondered, ignoring my jab. “His errand puppy. Another one of his soldiers.”
“Maybe he gives her attention because she knows his secret,” Soren chipped in. “I’m telling you, dude, something made him the way he is. He’s too fucked up to be normal. He ain’t like us.”
I choked on my saliva. I couldn’t believe they smelled the secret from so many miles away. Not that what I’d seen back there was all that scandalous, but Vaughn hadn’t wanted me to see it. That much was clear.
A light bulb flashed behind Arabella’s eyes, and she grinned.
“Vaughn Spencer has a secret, and you’re going to tell us what it is,” she whispered, her voice laced with threat.
“Go wank a cactus,” I muttered.
The slap came out of nowhere. It rang in my ears before the sting spread across my cheek. I couldn’t believe it was happening to me. I’d never been hit before. Ever. Maybe that’s why I reacted the way I did.
I spat in Arabella’s face.
I saw the way her features twisted, morphing from calm to horrified and finally disgusted. She raised the back of her hand, and I thought she was going to smack me again, but all she did was wipe my saliva from her cheek and the corner of her mouth, rubbing the leftovers on my dress.
“Hold the bitch down,” she commanded Soren and Alice.
Within seconds, I was lying with my stomach flat against cold tiles that smelled of bleach and feet. I resisted, squirming back and forth as Soren seized my legs. Alice pinned my wrists. I swallowed back tears and barely grunted when I felt Arabella’s heel digging into the base of my spine. Christ.
“Now, Drusilla, I’m going to give you one more chance, even though you behaved like an animal and spat in my face. Before I make sure you never walk again, tell me: what’s Vaughn Spencer’s secret?”
I screamed with the rest of my power, letting out steam, without actually producing any words. Somehow, even though I didn’t even remotely like Vaughn, it hadn’t occurred to me to compromise his secret. Not even once.
The taste of the blood from my nose mingled with my saliva, and I coughed, feeling her heel digging deeper into my lower back. It pierced my skin and pressed against my bones. A door slammed shut in the distance, the thud carrying into the locker room.
“Someone’s coming. Hurry up.” Soren slapped my unruly legs back into place when I tried to kick his face. Arabella stepped over me, her entire weight shifting onto my back.
The last thing I remember before I fainted was screaming so loud the walls rattled. When I woke up afterwards, a few junior girls helped me to my feet. I was fully clothed, so they didn’t see my back, but the blue and purple marks stayed for two months.
Now, Poppy was giving me a long sideways look, demanding to know why I was so upset.
“Why were you crying? Why were you yelling at someone to die? What’s going on, Lenny?”
There was no point in telling her. The school year was officially over. By next week, I’d be on the plane, picking up where I’d left off at home.
Carlisle Castle.
Art.
Pope.
There was going to be an entire ocean between Arabella, Soren, Alice, and me. Vaughn would be there, true, but he’d never hurt me physically. He just liked to taunt me with his venomous kisses and mind games. I could handle him.
I shook my head. “I just had a bad dream, that’s all. You know how I miss Mum extra hard every time we go through a change in life. I’m thinking about what’s next. Moving back is going to be weird without her there.”
It wasn’t even a complete lie. I did miss Mum like hell. But I was delighted to go back home. Poppy scanned my face intently before sliding under my duvet beside me, scooting her butt next to mine.
“Oh, I know, Lenny-loo.” She wrapped an arm around my shoulder and kissed my temple.
Poppy had been there for me since Mum passed away. That’s why I was never going to fully forgive Knight for breaking her heart, even though the writing was on the wall.
“But I’ll be attending the London School of Economics, just a few short hours away from Carlisle,” she reminded me. “I’ll check on you all the time. I promise.”
I believed her.
She wiggled and took something from the back pocket of her PJs. A Hershey’s Kiss. Unwrapping it, she popped it into my mouth.
“Here. I was going to indulge a little, but you seem to need it more than I do. Chocolate has always soothed you, since you were a kid. Now go to sleep, and have sweet dreams, all right? I promise you, life will be sweet from now on.” She kissed my temple again, brushing my hair away from my forehead.
The nightmare didn’t come back.
The next day, I woke up to a basket full of assorted chocolate on my nightstand.
Poppy.
I bought a hair dye remover and washed my hair, gradually bringing it back to its natural sunshine color. I dumped the lip ring and the septum piercing into the bathroom bin. There was no more need to pretend.
I was who I was, and I was going to be enough.
Graduation came and went in a blur of flying hats, silky robes, and wholesome family pictures everybody faked their smiles through. The night before we flew back to England, Poppy threw a goodbye party and invited all of her old mates, even the assholes.
Even Arabella, Alice, and Soren.
I couldn’t dispute it. She had no idea what they’d done to me, and had no clue I was so shaken by Arabella and Vaughn’s public blow job. Besides, Poppy wanted to erase the aftertaste of the last pool party we’d been to—the one where they’d almost killed her.
The house was naked of furniture at this point. Everything was packed, wrapped, and shipped back to England. It was a bare, open, cold space with loads of alcohol and snacks on the kitchen counter.
Poppy had asked me several times if I was okay with her throwing a party.
I’d said yes. And I wasn’t lying. Even though I knew damn well I was going to be locked somewhere for a few hours, feeling like a reject, I didn’t want to ruin it for my sister. I had it all planned out.
I spent the time in the attic, in Papa’s studio—now an empty space, with the vacant shape of Vaughn’s sculpture in the center of it, adorned by a thick layer of stone dust.
No one could get into the studio without the key, and I locked myself in from the inside, stocking up on water bottles and a party mix chocolate bag Poppy had left on my nightstand earlier that day. I slipped the key onto a shoestring and made a bracelet out of it, tying it around my wrist so I wouldn’t lose it.
The echo of the music downstairs rattled the attic’s walls and floor, but I had my headphones on, bobbing my head to “Handsome Devil” by The Smiths and sketching on my pad, sitting on the floor with my back against the wall.