by Lindsey Iler
“I need more than that. What else did he say, Palmer?”
“Rambled on about how things are and have always been on campus, and to know my place.”
“There has to be something else.”
“The only other thing was when he looked down at my necklaces, seeing them sort of set him off.”
I reach under the collar of her uniform shirt and lift the three of them out. My finger rubs over the delicate details of the matching hearts. The sharp bottom edges of the skeleton keys bite into my skin. I flip one over and see the cursive P. The second one with a matching cursive R.
“Reed’s necklace,” I whisper. “I’d recognize it anywhere. Hers has a chip on the edge of the heart.” My eyes shift up, and I drag myself from my past to the present. “Can I ask how you came to have it?”
Palmer’s eyes fixate on the window. When I try to force her to look at me, her lip trembles. “Please don’t. Not yet, because I’m not ready.”
My relationship with Reed was complicated, and right now, that complication is staring me down through her sister.
“Palmer.” Her name comes from my lips like a plea for survival.
“Not now. I know this conversation is something that needs to happen, but right now, there’s too much going on for your feelings for my sister to be top priority on the list.”
“Whenever you’re ready.” This is a cop out. I should be spilling everything at this girl’s feet. She’s earned it. She deserves more than what I’m giving her.
Avoidance is a form of survival. My past has been used as a weapon against Palmer. If I could erase it, even when the things I’ve said held some truth, I would to save her the hurt I’ve caused her.
Palmer turns towards me, and with the perfect tilt of her head, she invites me in, once again, unearned trust given to me.
“I warned you not to let me in, that all I’d end up doing is hurting you.”
Palmer leans forward, resting her lips against my ear. “And you taught me to see beauty in the pain.”
Like a moth to a flame, we meet in the middle, sucking the life out of each other. I can’t even find the decency to care, allowing my flames to nip at her wings, taking her only source of survival.
Our lips mingle like they’re bound for separation, needy in the way they move together. A shock runs through me when Palmer’s tongue reaches for mine.
With my hands in her hair, I mumble, “How hasn’t this gotten old yet?”
Before she can answer, I deepen the kiss once again. The sweet smile is the only thing I need to know. She’s here with me fully, no questions asked.
“What do we have here?” Dixon’s glee rings through the room.
Palmer hops off the couch and fidgets with her skirt, making us seem more guilty than what we are.
“A moment of weakness. A lapse in judgment,” she clarifies.
“Fucking ouch!” I clutch at my chest, feigning hurt. This earns a grin from Dixon.
“You know, what I don’t understand is why your moments of weakness never include me?” Breaker winks as he walks into the living room, Dixon and Byron right behind him.
“Are you forgetting about our super-hot kiss?” Palmer brushes her fingertips over his chest as he passes to sit in one of the armchairs.
“Wait, when did that happen?” Dixon circles the couch.
“Why, you jealous?” Breaker goads him, offering Palmer a grin. He’s enjoying this far too much.
“Yeah, if I’m being honest, kind of.” He marches to Palmer, flirtatiously reaching for her. I stand and slap his chest, blocking him from making another move on my girl.
“Again, I’m not like my sister.” Her eyes assess each of us. “Unlike her, I draw the line at three.”
“You’re right about something,” I whisper in her ear. “You’re not anything like your sister.”
Palmer’s gaze shifts around the room. At one point, her eyes look down at her body. I hate the way she seems to be taking inventory and trying to figure out if she belongs here with us. If I have anything to say about it, she’ll know she does soon enough.
“I better go,” she sighs.
No. No. Come back here.
“We can finish this conversation later, Marek.” She turns to leave.
“Why don’t you stay instead, Palmer?” Byron suggests, sliding in front of her to block her exit.
Palmer freezes at his command. That’s what it is. He may have added the question, but we know what he means. She does, too. Her spine is ramrod straight with discomfort from him talking directly to her.
“There’s nothing to say.” She shrugs with zero will to give him anything else.
“Wrong, sweetheart. There’s plenty to say,” Byron offers. “Don’t do it for me, but at least do it for them.”
“You can exclude me from this, too, because I know I don’t have your trust,” Dixon adds.
With a strength that’s a little fucked up, she nods, steadying herself as she passes Byron and heads straight to our kitchen. “You boys want to do this, then let’s do this.”
Breaker follows her out, stopping at the doorway. “We sure we want to do this?”
“It needs to be done,” I say.
“I know we’re usually loyal, but in there, don’t feel the need to protect me. I did what I did, and now I’m learning to deal with the consequences.” Byron is the first to enter the kitchen behind Palmer.
For the first time, Byron is putting himself in front of the sword. Dixon looks after his brother with more emotion than I’ve ever seen on his face. He’s proud.
I take two steps into the foyer, but Breaker’s hand landing on my chest halts me from joining them.
“If you love that girl . . .”
“I know, man.” I pat him on the shoulder and head straight for the chair beside Palmer.
“Why me?” Palmer asks as soon as everyone is seated at the table. “Why not one of Reed’s other friends?”
“What other friends? Outside of us and you, she had mere acquaintances. She tolerated her classmates at best, and they feared her in return.”
“Why did they fear her?” she asks. “If like you said, outside of us five, she kept to herself.”
“It’s the quiet ones who make the most noise,” I explain Reed in the simplest way. “She held herself to a different standard, and it made everyone pause and watch.”
“What was the point? And I don’t want to hear the generic ass version you’ve been feeding me. I want the truth. The shit you don’t want me to know.” Palmer wastes no time getting to the point. This shouldn’t surprise any of us.
“As you know, we each had a relationship with your sister. It didn’t start out that way. In fact, I’m not even sure when everything changed. One day, she was no one’s, and then, she was all of ours. It’s not conventional, and most people wouldn’t understand it, but none of us cared what anyone thought,” Byron explains.
“I already know this part,” Palmer says, grimacing at the thought. I reach under the table and place my hand over hers. She cuts her eyes to where we are joined, squeezing my fingers. “Now, explain to me how your plan came about.”
“It was my idea,” Dixon says, drawing Palmer’s attention to him.
“It’s no surprise how much we loved your sister,” Breaker interrupts. “So, when Dixon brought the plan to us, we were on board. Except we knew we needed to wait. Marek promised to keep an eye out for you until we were ready to fully execute the plan.”
“To drag Reed’s killer out of the shadows. You assumed he was still around campus, and if I was under your thumbs, then maybe I’d be seen as a good target.”
“Yes,” I say. “We knew he was still around because of the missing girls.”
“But that would mean the person that hurt Reed would have done it because of you guys.”
“That’s the part we’re struggling to understand. We don’t have any enemies, none that would cause this much carnage on campus,” I explain.
“But the plan ended up working. I became a target. I was attacked twice by someone other than you four. But that doesn’t explain the reasoning behind the other girls. None of you are linked to them in any way.”
“That’s right, so we ruled us out of the equation, and the night of The Festival of Beginnings, we thought this would be our chance. Everyone would be around. We made it known before then that we weren’t protecting you.”
“The cabin when you humiliated me in front of everyone,” Palmer whispers, pain of the memory flooding her face.
“Yes, we don’t know who’s behind all of this, so we thought if they were a classmate, that maybe they’d witness us treating you like shit and know we weren’t protecting you,” I say, trying to help her understand.
“Because you weren’t.” Her bottom lip trembles. “The rooftop.”
“That’s when our plan went south,” Byron blurts.
“Is that what you call it?” Palmer’s disdain for him isn’t a secret. It’s loud and in bright lights between them.
“A complete year was spent wondering what I could have done differently. Scenarios ran through my mind like a revolving dream, full of things where I could have saved your sister,” Byron says. “There’s no excuse for what I did, but that night, I lost myself. It’s almost like something else was controlling that knife. Once I started, anger took over, and I didn’t see you.”
“You saw your loss.” Palmer covers his hand with hers, offering him kindness he hasn’t earned.
“You remind me of her. Looking in your eyes is like a breath of fresh air followed by strangulation. I knew Reed was involved with something, and I’ve been angry, thinking about her keeping it from me.”
“That night?” Her eyes shift to me.
“Like I said, I see a lot of her in you.” Byron’s head falls forward, shame heavy on his shoulders.
“That’s fucked up.” Her disgust reaches out and slaps Byron in the face. “You understand how completely fucked up in the head that makes you?”
His head springs up. “Yes, and I wish I could say you’re the first person to ever tell me that, but then I’d be lying.”
“So, it seems,” Palmer whispers, returning her attention to the three of us. “What else?”
“What else do you want to know?” I ask.
We haven’t had much time after that night on the roof to have this conversation. It’s overdue and scary as fuck. The words we are exchanging have the ability to ruin everything that’s already in shambles.
Palmer does her best to ask questions with substance. Every word uttered from her beautiful mouth holds a purpose. She’s mindful of her inquisition, especially when her eyes turn to Breaker. There’s a tenderness to the way she interacts with him, and she doesn’t even realize it. Her fight to stay angry with him is evaporating.
Dixon doesn’t get off as easy. She can barely look him in the eyes. This isn’t the first time she’s been in his space since he put his hands on her. He’s apologized profusely, but excuses won’t take his guilt away, and they won’t make Palmer feel any better. If she knew about his past, then she’d understand him far more. His story isn’t mine to tell, so only time and acceptance can mend these two.
“You each need to understand something,” Palmer says as she stands. “After that night, I became numb. I was stuck inside the tunnel. You four on one side, and reality on the other. Neither is a good option, so I shut down. A few deep breaths, and I was willing to allow you to get away with the terror you created. A desperate girl searching for answers had played to your benefit, but I won’t be that girl anymore. It’s why I lost my shit that day, destroying everything of yours I could.”
“Not everything,” I whisper.
She turns her head, searching my eyes for my meaning. She knows.
“I destroyed us that day, too. You just happened to destroy us way before then.”
“So, where do we go from here?” I ask, uncertain there’s any place for Palmer and me to go.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” Palmer reaches out, and I take her hand and stand side by side with her. Whatever she’s about to say has her shaking.
“Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.” I kiss her wrist, preparing myself and her.
The front door shuts, breaking us from the moment. Palmer’s head snaps to Breaker’s, silently begging him to save her.
“It’s probably William. He said he was going to drop off some paperwork for me to sign,” I announce, putting everyone at ease. Seems our little conversation has everyone on high alert. “What is it you need to tell us, Palmer?” I ask, eager to know what has her spooked.
Footsteps sound behind us. Byron’s eyes are what I notice first. Wide and uncertain. Calculating and hopeful.
“What are you doing here?” Breaker says. The deep rumble in his voice has each of them standing. “We heard the shit you did the other day. No one assaults one of us without dealing with any sort of repercussions.”
“I come in peace, boys. Please sit.” Henry walks into the kitchen and gestures to the table. “Nice to see you again, Palmer.” His smile drips of condescension.
“The feeling isn’t mutual,” Palmer quips, plastering a fake smile on her face. She sits down, and I stand behind her, my hands resting on her shoulders to steady myself. Without a second thought, one of her palms slides up my fingers, covering my hand with hers.
“Well, nonetheless, I’m here for a reason,” Henry says.
“Another party you need our boy to go to, to prove you’re important at this academy?” Dixon says. “Isn’t this beneath you at this point?”
“Actually, it’s more pleasure than business.” Henry drops five silver envelopes on the table. No one moves to grab one, proving how little we care about whatever bullshit Henry is up to. “Well, go ahead and open them.” He picks one up and hands it to me.
I break the seal and remove a black velvet invitation. Embossed in silver is the same flag in the photo of Dean Eberstark and Henry in his office. I turn it over and run my eyes over the words.
“You are cordially invited . . .”
Palmer takes the invite from me and reads it to herself. When she finishes, she tosses the soft paper on the table. “What the hell is this?”
“Every year, alumni hold an event. Only a select few seniors are invited. This year will be exceptionally eventful.”
“Do you know about this?” I ask Byron, the only one of us who’s an alumnus.
“Yes, only those alumni who are invited as seniors are able to take part after graduation,” Byron explains. “It’s different every year in terms of theme, because each class alternates who is responsible for the event.”
“Kind of late notice, don’t you think?” Breaker intervenes, plucking the invite off the table and skimming over it.
“Oh, a rich kid like you, Breaker, must have a tuxedo on standby.” Henry turns his attention to Palmer, ignoring Breaker’s question.
“What’s this year’s theme?” Palmer asks.
“Romeo and Juliet.” Henry spins, making a show of his explanation. His hand glides through the empty space between us. “Think star-crossed lovers, lavish material, and romance.”
“Let me guess, your class of rich elitists is in charge of this one?” Palmer asks, rolling her eyes.
“We are, and we would greatly enjoy your presence at this year’s party.” He eyes each of us. “Please be sure to RSVP as soon as possible, as we wouldn’t want to hold your place for you to not show up. But do note, it is a privilege to be included.”
He watches us, pride and assumption evident on his face. He knows we’ll show up. He’s given us no choice, but why?
“I’ll show you out,” I say to Henry. I watch him head towards the door and bend down to whisper in Palmer’s ear, “Only a minute, I promise.”
“I expect you to be there,” he demands when I reach the foyer. “All of you.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Then you’ll
embarrass me and your mother. She’s making a hefty donation in your name at this event. This is your chance to get out from under the hidden legacy scarlet A you’ve been carrying around for the better half of high school.”
“No one cares about those things at the academy.”
“You’re right, but they do care if that hidden legacy has murder charges.” He glances down, buttons his jacket, and nods, telling me this is the end of the conversation.
“Is this some way to buy off the dean and school board?”
“We can only be so lucky if it works.” He does his best to hide his frustration, calming himself by running his hand over his face before returning his attention to me. “Listen, it’ll be a relaxed night. Dress up, bring your beauty of a girlfriend, and have a good time. That simple.”
Yeah, right. Nothing is ever that simple with a man like Henry Lexington.
He runs out of the house, not giving me a chance to debate the reasons why this can’t happen. The five of us have plenty to worry about right now. A party is the last place we should be.
My head falls forward, resting on the cool door, my thoughts on how corrupt the world of the wealthy can be. To think, a murder could be forgiven simply from a hefty donation.
“We’re going, aren’t we?” Behind me, Palmer’s voice is soft, yet understanding.
I spin, resting against the door. “Wear black.”
Chapter Six
Palmer
I stand in front of the full-length mirror, admiring the short black train on the dress I’ve picked. My hands skim the curves of my body, appreciating the way the fabric hugs my hips.
Nothing has changed over the past few days. No official charges have been pressed against Marek, although it only seems like a matter of time until they are. The police presence on campus is ramped up. Damien doesn’t leave my side. Dillon’s stunt hasn’t helped the boys feel any more comfortable. I’m starting to appreciate him following me around.
As far as my secret, it still seems to be safe between Breaker, Dixon, and me. To tell Marek will only further confuse things, and he has more pressing things to worry about. My conspiracy theories will add stress to his already hectic life. My intentions were to tell him the day Henry showboated a night of lavish romance in our faces. When he left, no one seemed interested in my big secret, so I let it rest.
