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Even Max was grinning, not betraying even a hint of jealousy at having my mom’s ex-husband in his home. The three of them seemed…comfortable.
All three of them were…really fucking happy. It was slightly disconcerting, considering the dynamic.
“I do. Don’t ask me why, I find you utterly infuriating and a stone-cold bitch for playing with my friends’ feelings, but for some cursed reason, I actually do care if something happens to you, Ashley.”
I sobbed into his chest, now utterly sure I was hallucinating, and he just stroked my hair as he chuckled with a sound so warm, rich, and real. So…Heath.
Did you know our dads were friends?”
Why am I being so fucking nice to Ashley? She is clearly weirded out by it, and so am I. And yet…I feel kind of sorry for her. She so obviously believes my friends care about her, as more than just my inconvenient new family member, but she’s wrong. We’ve already discussed it. Ashley needs to go, and that’s the only option…so why do I have this slimy feeling in my gut? N. Essex, December 25
“This is hard to say but…” He paused and I held my breath, bracing to have my heart broken. “…what do you guys know about hypnosis?”
“Something about sleep psychosis and poor impulse control.”
“You decided it was safer to kill yourself, so you didn’t risk killing Ashley.”
“That’s not the reason Roycey wouldn’t let you stay over.”
The designer name—Portia Levigne—seemed familiar but I couldn’t place why.
A tiny little resin duck sat on top of the shoebox and I picked it up between my fingertips to take a closer look.
he silently crossed the room and knelt in front of me, taking one foot into his lap.
At the last moment—and for no discernable reason—I tossed the little red duck in my purse before heading downstairs to the waiting limo.
His dark brows lifted. “You didn’t know I was coming? But you wore my dress…” His gaze dropped lower and one of his hands traced the beaded neckline. “And it looks even better on you than I could have imagined.” My jaw dropped for a moment, then I laughed. “The duck. I should have known.”
“When Nate mentioned your mom might make you attend this party, I knew I had to show up. No way was I leaving these lips unkissed at midnight.”
I was kind of hoping Carina wouldn’t force the issue for New Year’s Eve. The idea of staying home with Ashley was not as unpleasant as it should have been. Weird. N. Essex, December 31
“Come on, Spark baby, one more song,” he murmured in my ear, that sexy accent rolling over me like a caress, “and then we can dip out and I’ll eat your pussy in the back of my car to start the New Year right.”
The Devil’s Backbone Society elders are putting pressure on for an increased social calendar this semester. Normally it wouldn’t bother me, but I can’t shake the feeling Heath’s sleepwalking is linked to the Society somehow. WE WERE ALL in our ceremony robes and masks that night, when the science hall burned down. When Ashley had somehow snapped me out of the trance. Fucking Ashley. Why does it feel like she is the core of the problem? Or is she the solution? I wish I knew. N. Essex, January 5
I smiled, thinking how Carter was just a big softy deep down. Really deep down, below the bad temper, control issues, and arrogant entitled bullshit.
“Why are we slapping Nate?” he asked, looking to Carter for answers. Carter just shrugged. “Why not?”
“What gave me the right? Maybe the fact that I fucking care about you, Heath. I don’t want to ever be responsible for cutting you down from a ceiling fan again. I don’t ever want to be the one to give you CPR and try to bring you back to life again. How about that? Maybe, just maybe, if you weren’t all tangled up in Ashley’s shit, then you never would have done such a stupid thing.”
Everything centered on the society.
“My money is on Dr. Fox,” Nate said with a grimace. Heath sighed heavily, his shoulders dropping. “Mine too. He is the logical culprit, right? He’s a clinical psychologist. I had regular sessions with him after which I would often have shockingly bad headaches… What if he was using my therapy sessions to mess around with hypnosis?”
all of a sudden he went blank like a zombie, then locked his eyes on some girl walking across the green and drove straight at her.”
Keeping journals is fucking stupid.
“Not even the slightest bit. She always irritated me, and seeing her today made my skin crawl. Uh, no offense and shit?” His skin crawled? That wasn’t a normal reaction to seeing a consensual one-night stand.
Just one word: Hyperion.
“‘Hyperion: Greek titan of heavenly light and watchfulness,’”
She was beautiful, elegant, and ice cold. But at the same time, very familiar. Why did she look so familiar, like we’d met before?
My temper is so much shorter, and I’m quick to violence. I don’t hate it, either. I finally feel…alive. H. Briggs, January 10
want, but it’s not just my future on the line. Not just my freedom at stake. At this point, I’ll do just about anything to keep Spark safe, even if it breaks my own heart. C. Bassington, January 10
Nate shook his head. “Nope.” He spun his laptop around to show us the result he’d zoomed in on. “Abigail Monstera.” “Great, so our strongest lead is now a ghost,” Heath muttered, shaking his head. “We really should have seen that one coming.”
“Uh, yeah?” Royce replied, scratching the back of his neck and looking confused as hell. “They found her body in Lake Placid, didn’t they?” I shrugged. “From what I researched, they had to ID based on dental records. Seems suspicious, doesn’t it?”
“This is where I feel most at home, balls deep in your sweet cunt.”
Speechless, I stared back at him a moment, then flicked my gaze back down to his bloody, sliced-up forearm. Spark. He’d cut my nickname into his arm just as I’d threatened to do if he didn’t stop calling me Ashley. What had I said to him last night? That he needed to remember who I was? Well, now he’d never forget.
“You’re insane,” I whispered, bringing my gaze back to his. He shook his head slightly, his lips curling at the corners. “I’m in love.”
For some reason, I glanced around the kitchen until I spotted what must have been the murder weapon. A granite duck figurine. A startled laugh escaped me, and I clapped a hand over my mouth to hold it in. “Sorry,” I muttered. “It’s not funny. Sorry. I just… You used a duck? What is with you guys and waterfowl?”
“He made us dress as Mormons,” Heath informed me, still seated on the floor but looking marginally less pale. “We rode bikes and everything, just to knock on people’s doors.”
“Why would he have any objection, Spark?” Carter asked in a teasing voice. “You guys are engaged after all.” I groaned, smacking my forehead. I’d almost forgotten about that too.
“You don’t always sleep well after covering up a murder? I do.”
“Are you flexing right now?” His lips tilted in a grin. “Are you checking me out right now? Thirsty Squirrel.”
I was just tired. Nate finally decided on a playlist that was oddly relaxing piano music set to a rain background. At first I found it a strange choice, but then my eyelids started drooping, and I lost the energy to question anything.
“Shh, go back to sleep,” Heath whispered, kissing my hair. I relaxed into his hold, despite the nagging feeling that I should be awake for…something? Couldn’t be that important, surely. Sleep was a better idea.
but hopefully now it would just be better. Dr. Fox was gone, and the hypnosis was over. Right? I just couldn’t shake the feeling that I still needed to watch my back, though. That maybe it wasn’t so simple. Maybe we weren’t ready to live our happily ever after just yet…
But her smile said it wasn’t nothing at all. Probably reading way too much into me sticking with Nate’s taxi services. She just loved seeing connections that didn’t exist, I was sure of it.
Carter leaned down and dropped a quick kiss on my mouth. “I’m sure I meant to say, I rigged us to be on the same team because I’m completely in love with you.”
“Can’t it? You’re my obsession, Ashley. Every minute you’re not touching me, my heart aches. I love you so much, it literally hurts sometimes. Does that scare you?”
I realized he woke up every morning at five thirty on the damn dot without an alarm. It was weird as hell.
“Do you and Carter ever talk, or is this whole thing just about sex? Actually, don’t answer that. It’s a Portia Levigne Couture dress, Ashley. Portia is Carter’s mother. He changed all the sample size specs to your measurements last semester, so literally all her new concept gowns are perfectly made to measure for you.”
