I didn’t have to look to know it was Xander.
The way we separated, it felt like a point of no return, because how could we go back to pretending, when around every corner there was someone with their sights on me—including Xander? Hotels, motels, young girls, they were all the same. I was heartbroken and empty.
When I made it to my room, I closed the door behind me and just slid to the floor, the weight of this new world crushing down on me.
“I need you, Dad,” I cried.
He couldn’t hear me, but I hoped somehow the universe would send him the message. The good thing was, Honoré wasn’t around, so I could break down in peace. I scanned the room. My bed seemed like it was still the way I’d left it. My shoes neatly lined up under it. All my movie posters accounted for. I breathed a sigh of relief and got a glimpse at the only silver lining in this oily black haze that was my life.
The cookies on my desk were still unopened.
I peeled myself up off the floor, intent on devouring the whole bag, and that’s when I noticed them. Five lipstick tubes lined up on the far-left corner of my desk. Upon closer inspection, next to the tubes, all in a single shade of purple, I found a note written in my roommate’s jagged script.
Your perfect shade for the party. You’ll want to leave your mark.
Kisses,
Honoré
I swiped them all off the desk and watched them bounce and roll on the threadbare carpet. I thought about calling Xander, but then reminded myself he was one of them. Then I fished my phone out of my pocket. There were three missed messages from him, but I cleared each one and found Dad in my favorites instead.
After the fourth ring, I thought about just hanging up and crying myself to sleep, but then the line clicked, and I heard his familiar, husky voice.
“Izz, I’m so happy you called. I’ve been having a doozy of a week,” his voice bellowed in my ear. “Can you believe I’m homesick already? I miss you so much. I miss your Sunday pancakes and watching Jeopardy with you, but I did find you something purple.”
A tear trailed down my cheek as I sat on the bed. I let my weight sink into the mattress as I lifted the tiny horse figurine out of its box. I ran my fingers over the smooth curves, missing Xander in the worst way.
“Yeah?” I swallowed, biting back tears. I couldn’t tell him what I was going through. He had real worries that mattered, and I didn’t need to add to them. I walked myself into the line of fire, it was going to be up to me to get out.
“So, how’s it going?”
“Same,” I lied, trying to keep my voice even. Nothing about Wastelands was like where I came from. I’d dealt with regular bullies who put rotten fish in lockers and mean girls with their precious cafeteria seating charts. I’d even had my fair share of run-ins with fights, rec drugs, and bathroom stall bitch fests, but this wasn’t that. Bruises healed and paint erased the worst slurs. This was the worst type of violation.
“I love you.”
I sniffled and swallowed.
Dad paused briefly, listening, knowing. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
The door flew open, and of course, in walked Honoré. She did her usual easy stroll into the room and planted herself directly in front of me. Her right arm was folded over her stomach and the elbow of the other arm was propped on it. She rubbed her finger over her top lip.
“Listen, Dad. I’ll call you again later. Love you.”
“Isn’t that sweet? I wonder if Daddy knows what his slutty little daughter has been up to.”
I winced and scooted back on my bed to widen the distance between us. “What do you want?”
“Oh nothing.” She turned on her heel, set her bags on her bed, and bent down to pick up the lipstick tubes while she kept talking. “I just wondered if you have enough lipstick. Are you going to woman up, or you going to go crawling into your little dark hole and cry like Emily? Who knows? Maybe you’ll do us all a favor and end yourself like your mom did.”
“Fuck you, Honoré. You don’t know me. You don’t know anything about my family.” I sprang to my feet and strode over until I was right behind her. She swiveled around and our faces were only inches apart. I let my chin drop as I glared up from under my brow into her green eyes. “And don’t say another fucking word about my mother.”
She released a deep, guttural laugh. “So there is some fight in you. Good, because I was beginning to think this was going to be boring.”
A strange calm washed over me. It was almost like I could feel my backbone growing, my skin thickening. I thought, how funny. Just when you have nothing to lose, you realize you don’t have a fuck to give.
“What happened to you, Honoré? Did they get you, too? Is that how you became a Raven, spreading your toxic unkindness around?” I tilted my head and inhaled as she registered the truth in my words. “Oh, they did get you. So, where’s your famous video?”
The smug smile slipped from her perfectly lined lips and she whipped her braid off her shoulder. “Say what you want, but I’m a Raven and you’re The Feed, and that makes me better than you. After high school, I’ll go on to an amazing law firm and end up wealthy and happy, while you’re still crawling around on your knees giving blow jobs and trying to find your place at the bottom.”
“Is that before or after every Crow took their turn with you? Did they all run a train on you? Is that it? They took their time passing you around?”
Honoré shoved her shoulder into mine, pushing past me, and opened her closet, where she rummaged, apparently for nothing in particular because she didn’t blink. She just stood there unseeing, probably wading through some memory while she ran her hands over the fabrics.
Screw her and her head games.
I left and made my way to the common room down the hall. It was mostly empty, except for one girl sitting by the fireplace next to the lounge chairs. She was thin, with bright orangish-red hair and porcelain skin over regal bone structure. I flashed her a quick smile as I passed, but my eyes snagged on the name written on her binder.
Clementine O.
My heart stopped. And I must’ve been staring, because she cleared her throat and waggled her brows as if to say snap out of it.
I did.
Quickly, too, because I knew I needed to get my shit together if I was going to pick her brain about Marshall. “Sorry, I just…you’re Clementine Olivier.”
“That’d be me.” Again, her thin brows danced with awkward amusement. “And you are…?”
I gulped a mouthful of air and slowly released it from my nose before I spoke. “Izzy, Izabelle Water—
“Ah. The new girl. You’ve been here, what, a week? Already covered a lot of ground with your new frenemies, I see. What have you got planned for next week, bringing down the—”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem like Marshall’s type.”
She nodded absently, her bottom lip protruding as the corners of her mouth tugged downward. “Wow. You really have a way with words. And here I thought it was your winning personality that caught everyone’s attention.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, you seem…like you wouldn’t give him the time of day. Like if The Crows threatened you, you’d call in your minions and say ‘off with his head!’”
She laughed at this, because really, even I had no clue what I was saying. I learned fast that when The Crows picked you, there was little choice in the matter. It was more about how much you could endure, and if you’d still be standing when they were done with you.
“Listen,” I started again. “What I’m really attempting to do in the most awkward way possible is to ask how you took Marshall down. I know you copied Emily Sutton’s original video from his phone, but when I asked Xander, he couldn’t tell me what you did with it, or what you were planning to do.”
Clementine’s eyes darted to the door before she narrowed them on me. She parted her lips like she was weighing the question against the anxious girl in front of her, angling
her body away from me. When she spoke, I noticed the flat tone.
“Why are you in here? Did they send you to find me?”
There it was. The same paranoia that had shadowed me for the past week. The distrust. The intent listening, ready to catch the lies. Mostly, the compulsive need to know what side a person was on in order to assign a threat level.
For her sake, I took a step back and shrugged. “There’s going to be a feeding and I’m on the menu.”
A mixture of relief, pity, and sympathy flushed her cheeks. “Shit.”
“I know. Xander and I were trying to figure out how to get me out of it, but now that’s not an option…”
Clementine lifted her chin and squinted, studying me. Her legs, crossed at the ankles, bounced with a nervous tick while she leaned back and folded her arms. “That’s the second time you mentioned Xander. He got to you, didn’t he?”
“No. Well, yes.” I shook my head. “I think I’ve got him all wrong, though. He’s trying not to be like them. I mean he is one of them, but I think he’s different.”
She sat up and her fingers went to tapping on her computer keys, then she flipped the screen around to me. I immediately recognized the grainy hotel background and Emily’s champagne-colored dress. Except I hadn’t seen it at this angle. Clementine pressed a button and the volume notches disappeared one by one before she played the video. This time Emily wasn’t talking, she was completely deep-throated on some guy on the bed. As she pulled her head back, I saw the lipstick marks climbing the shaft of the guy’s cock.
Lipstick party.
Absently, I placed my hand over my mouth and gasped. I was sick to my stomach.
Clementine tossed me a look, but I couldn’t read her expression. Then she pinched her thumb and forefinger together on the trackpad and spread them apart until the screen zoomed in on the guy to whom Emily’s mouth was still attached. I thought my heart might beat out of my chest. Xander.
What the…?
“Right about now I assume the words ‘what the fuck’ are going through your head,” Clementine said. “I showed you this video because last year I was you. They don’t share the videos unless you disobey them, but if you’re all hugged up with Xander, that makes you a target for Marshall. Those two are basically at war. He’s going to do everything in his power to take you from Xander. I don’t know how you plan to get out of the feeding, but you need to keep your distance from Xander Gale. He’s a Crow, and Crows cannot be trusted.”
My phone vibrated against my leg and I fished it out of my pocket. It was him. For a moment, I stared at the red and green icons like a fork in the road. No matter how much I thought I liked Xander, I couldn’t be with him. I ignored the call and met Clementine’s gaze instead.
“Thanks. I needed to see it.”
If a feeding was what they wanted, that’s exactly what I would give them.
Chapter Sixteen
XANDER
Friday I awoke to the sound of my phone vibrating across the nightstand. I hoped it was Izabelle, since we hadn’t spoken since I dropped her off Sunday. She’d been ignoring my calls and texts, and somehow she’d also managed not to run into me on campus. In the muted sunlight of the morning, I grabbed it and squinted at the bright screen.
Mom: Happy birthday, honey. Where did the years go? I can’t believe my baby is already eighteen. Have fun with your friends tonight. Don’t worry about your father, we still want to see you tomorrow. Love you.
I rolled out of bed and scrubbed my hand over my face as a message dropped from the top of the screen.
Marshall: Rise and shine birthday boy. Looking forward to your party tonight. Don’t even think about backing down. Remember, I’ve got a video of your little Valentine one way or the other, so it’s completely up to you which one we use.
“Fuuuuuck.” I could give a shit about the party, but it was Valentine’s Day, and I wanted to find a way to make Izabelle understand that I wasn’t like Marshall or my father, and right now the best way to prove it seemed to be getting her out of the feeding tonight.
“What’s up? You okay?”
I turned to find a shiny black shock of hair sticking out from a mass of blankets. My roommate, Ichiro was staring at me, shielding one eye from the sun. I sighed and blew out a chest full of air.
“Nah, I’m good. I just want this day to be over, that’s all.”
Ichiro groaned, his voice thick with sleep. “It hasn’t even started yet.” He pulled the covers back over his head. “By the way, happy birthday.”
The rest of the day, as people who I called friends and people who I didn’t know all wished me a happy birthday, I resisted the urge to ask them what was so happy about today. Being a legal adult didn’t diminish the fact that my father is a fucked-up pedophile and my so-called friend Marshall is a sadistic bully. None of which would convince Izabelle to give me another chance.
As I walked the hall headed for Humanities class, I thought about charging Marshall’s dorm and beating him to oblivion, but how did that make me different?
I needed to show Izabelle how much she meant to me. Flowers and chocolates crossed my mind and kept going. How do you show a woman you’ve only known a dozen days how much she means to you? I needed to get creative, and I only had a few hours to do it.
That’s when I passed the art room and an idea hit me. I leaned against the doorframe and cleared my throat. “Mr. Ackerman, do you still have any of that colored paper? I was hoping to snag a dozen or so off of you.”
“Absolutely. I have to tell you, Xander, I’m glad to see you embracing your creative side.” He walked over to a credenza topped with an array of supplies and pulled a small stack off the top. “Here you go. I hope you’ll bring whatever it is you’re making to class when you’re finished.”
I nodded my thanks and left, pulling out the purple sheets. I had two weeks’ worth of letters to write.
By the time I arrived at the country club that night, I’d drained my heart out on paper. What was left flowing through my veins was something like disgust and rage. A deadly mix. I was on a mission to confront Marshall and put a stop to the feedings.
As soon as I opened the door to the Estrada Suite, the blaring music and the chatter of the crowd hit me like a tidal wave. Sudden and breathtaking.
All my senses were overwhelmed. I was spinning out of control. It was a blur of red and pink with hearts everywhere. About fifty sets of eyes were on me. I could smell the anticipation in the air as I weaved through the foyer and into the living room. The stares, the hushed whispers, every turn of a head, they all left my body pulsing with the mounting pressure.
I wanted to leave, but my heart wouldn’t let me. I wasn’t about to pick now to start bowing down to Marshall. Not when Izabelle needed me most.
“I can’t wait for the show,” someone said. I flinched and jerked toward the voice.
Then a girl in the back chimed in. “It’s going to be epic.”
That’s when the cheers and chants began. Louder. Faster. More aggressive with every step I took toward the back where the master suite was. My eyes darted to all the old standbys lining the counters. There were buffets of pills and alcohol. For the guest of honor, a clear glass mixing bowl filled to the top with lipstick tubes in every shade.
I’d seen it all before, but nothing could have prepared me for what was waiting behind the bedroom door.
I knocked with my left hand and turned the handle with my right.
A digital camera was set on a tripod aimed at a king-sized bed. Black satin sheets were draped over the length. And in the middle of it sat my Izabelle in a short purple dress—for easier access.
My heart dropped into my stomach, and I couldn’t breathe.
What are you doing?
I didn’t have a clue where her head was, but whatever she was up to, she couldn’t know how far Marshall would go to prove he was the king of The Crows.
A movement in my periphery snagged my attention. I whipped my head aroun
d to find Marshall looking pleased with himself for orchestrating the show, and I marched over to him, fuming, unsure what exactly I was about to do. He didn’t even flinch as I stopped within an inch of his face.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Showing your girlfriend a good time.” He lifted his chin, baring his thick neck, ready for whatever I threw at him.
I wasn’t thinking clearly. My head was fuzzy, and every muscle in my body tensed and trembled as I balled my fists, drew my head back, and spit in his face. “Fuck you.”
Marshall blinked and flashed a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He was enjoying this shit, and it pissed me off even more when I didn’t get the reaction I was hoping for.
Slowly, he pulled a purple bandanna out of his pocket, flaunting Izabelle’s favorite color while he dabbed his cheek. His voice was low and even when he addressed me. “I’m going to let that one slide because I know you got caught up in the game,” he said simply, warning vibrating in his husky tone.
I couldn’t take it. Fire blazed through me. I turned on my heel, took wide strides over to Izabelle, and led her by the hand to the door. But before we made it out, she tugged on my hand to stop me, and I jerked around.
“What? Are you okay?”
Her smile was somber and pained as she swallowed. She dropped my hand and lowered her chin. “They’re never going to leave me alone, and he has the video.”
“We have to try.” I hated the desperation in my shaky voice. I sounded as weak as I felt.
“It’ll just be another day, another hotel room, hallway, dorm…I can’t live in fear anymore, and I’m not going to let them run me out of here—”
“She’s smart. I can see why you picked this one, Gale,” Marshall cut her off, reveling in my dilemma.
Devastated Page 9
