Cruel Love

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Cruel Love Page 15

by Kate Brian


  His eyes registered perfect clarity. “Of course.”

  “Well I have to go. I have to leave the country. Now. Tonight,” she said furtively. “I came here to ask … will you come with me?”

  Jasper leaned back on his heels. “Are you … you can’t be serious.”

  Ariana felt his words inside her heart like a thousand tiny daggers. “Dead serious.” She reached for his hand and squeezed. “Jasper … please. I need an answer. Are you coming with me or not? I have a hotel room in Lisbon. We could be there first thing tomorrow. We could start a new life. One where no one knows me … knows us.”

  Ariana realized she was rambling and bit down hard on her bottom lip.

  “So. Will you come?”

  “Okay, you’re freaking me out here,” Jasper said. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  Ariana’s mouth hardened into a thin line. Jasper almost never spoke so colloquially. “You’re stalling.”

  His eyes widened. “What? No? I just … you’re bleeding and you’re talking about leaving the country like some kind of fugitive and I’m not sure you’re thinking straight. Let me get you some help and we’ll—”

  He started to get up, but Ariana grasped his hand and pulled him back down again.

  “Jasper, there’s no time.” She looked him dead in the eye. “I know this a lot to ask, but I also know that you love me. And because I love you, I’m going to give you some time to think about it. Just … not too much.”

  She let him go and he stood up, backing up enough for her to slam the car door closed. Her finger trembled as she pressed the button to lower the window.

  “If you want to be with me, meet me at Terminal A at Ronald Reagan International in four hours. And bring your passport.”

  “Ana … please. Let’s talk about this,” Jasper said, his nose turning red with the cold. “Tell me what’s happening.”

  “I don’t have the time, Jasper,” she said, shaking her head, trying to keep the tears from spilling over. “You’re going to have to decide this on your own. And please, just … don’t tell anyone you saw me out here.”

  Then she closed the window, shoved the car into gear, and pulled away. She gave Jasper one last look in the rearview mirror as she reached the edge of the parking lot. The sudden pain in her heart nearly choked her. This couldn’t be the last time she’d ever see him. She couldn’t handle the idea that this was the end.

  Come with me, Jasper, please, she thought desperately. I don’t want to lose you, too.

  ALMOST EVERYTHING

  Ariana gritted her teeth as she cleaned the blood around her wound with antiseptic wipes. Every time the medicated cloth came within as much as a centimeter of the cut, the pain was excruciating. The countertop around the sink in her private bathroom was littered with crumbled, red scraps. Her chest heaving as she tried to breathe, Ariana finished the job and looked in the mirror. The gash wasn’t as deep as she’d originally thought. The bleeding had slowed considerably, and even though it hurt like nothing she’d ever experienced before, she was reasonably certain she would live.

  She reached for the gauze and tape she’d swiped from the emergency kit in the hallway. Gritting her teeth, she covered the wound with a large piece of gauze and taped it down tightly. Then she used an ACE bandage to wrap her abdomen and keep it from moving too much when she walked. When she was finally finished, Ariana took a few test steps around the bathroom. The cut still stung and her side ached, but it was nothing like it had been. This, she could deal with. This would not slow her down.

  Ariana swiped all of the messy gauze and wipes and bandages into a small garbage bag where she’d already stashed her ruined dress and Meloni’s blood-caked scarf. Then she took out two antiseptic cleaning wipes and carefully, meticulously, rubbed down every last inch of the sink, the counter, the mirror, and the floor in front of the vanity. She added these to the garbage bag and tied it tight. Later, she would dispose of the bag in a Dumpster at the airport, where it would be whisked away before anyone even knew she was gone.

  Back in her room, Ariana threw on a soft black turtleneck sweater and tossed the first aid equipment into her Louis Vuitton satchel, the one she intended to carry onto the plane. Already stashed inside were her Emma Walsh passport and wallet, two thousand dollars in cash, her laptop, a change of clothes, and plenty of reading material. Her Louis Vuitton rolling trunk was full of winter clothes and coats.

  Ariana snapped the trunk closed and looked around her room. Her eyes fell on the stack of opened and unopened invitations on her desk, and her heart gave a pang. The Princeton catalog lay at the center of the workspace, looking glossy and colorful and inviting. On the shelf above her bed was the framed photograph of her, Lexa, Maria, Soomie, and Brigit taken at the fund-raiser back in September—the one frame she had managed not to shatter after Meloni had shown up on campus. On impulse, Ariana grabbed the picture, shoved it into her carry-on, and zipped it closed. She took a deep breath and resolved not to cry, not to wonder what if, not to regret. Right now, she had to be practical. She had to make sure she hadn’t left anything behind for the police to find. Everything seemed to be in order, and it had taken her less then twenty minutes to pack.

  “Well. This is it. Good-bye, Briana Leigh Covington,” Ariana said, making sure to keep her voice steady.

  Then she righted her rolling trunk, slid out the handle until it clicked, and walked out the door.

  STALKING HER PREY

  Ariana stood in the Georgetown library while Reed participated in an American lit study group, safely hidden behind a huge shelf full of dusty sociology books. Her situation, she realized, was far from ideal. She had spent the last two weeks of her life stalking and studying and planning for this and now, she’d been forced to work off the cuff. But at least she had spotted Reed leaving for the library the moment she’d arrived. That had been a stroke of luck. Of course, it would have been more convenient had she been alone, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. She would simply have to stand here and wait. Wait until this ridiculously long, Friday night discussion of Toni Morrison’s life work was finally over.

  This girl really did have no life.

  At least it was warm inside the library. And the pain beneath her hastily applied gauze was nothing but a dull ache now. For the moment, Ariana chose to look at the bright side.

  “All right, tomorrow afternoon we’ll go over Sula and Jazz,” the scruffy dude who’d been popping his gum all night said, closing his laptop. “Thanks, everyone, for coming on such short notice.”

  Ariana’s chest flooded with relief and excitement as Reed began to pack up her things. The two other girls in her group—the ones she had walked to the library with earlier—said good night and strolled off together, while Reed and the scruffy dude made for the door. Ariana waited until they were nearly to the checkout desk before emerging from between the stacks. She hovered near the bulletin board while they adjusted their scarves and gloves, said their good-byes, and went outside. Then, heart pounding, she quickly followed. At the top of the steps, she paused. Scruffy dude had headed off to the right. Reed was walking in the opposite direction, toward her dorm, and she was alone.

  Thank you, thank you, thank you, Ariana thought, practically skipping down the steps. She made sure to stay a good fifty paces behind Reed as she navigated the frosty, ice patch–dotted pathway toward her dorm.

  Please just let her be going home. Don’t let her stop anywhere along the way, Ariana begged silently. She couldn’t take the suspense much longer. She needed to get this over with and get to the airport ASAP. If Reed managed to stall for very long, there was a good chance Ariana was going to have to abort her mission and go—that she was going to have to leave Reed alive.

  The very thought made bile rise up in the back of her throat. The girl had to die. She simply had to die.

  Ariana held her breath as Reed made the left and hurried toward her dorm, her head bowed against the frigid wind. She waited, feeling giddy with anticipati
on, as Reed used her key to get inside. Then she stood out in the cold for a good forty-five seconds, until someone else came out and she was able to grab the door.

  The elevator doors were just sliding closed. Ariana watched as the numbered lights above the door illuminated, stopping on the third floor. Then she turned toward the stairwell and ran. She took the steps sometimes two, sometimes three at a time, and burst out into the hallway on the third floor. Reed was just slipping around the far corner. Ariana hustled to catch up. It wouldn’t be long now. Not long now until she had her fingers around Reed’s throat. Until she was squeezing the last gasping breath from the girl’s lungs.

  She paused at the corner as Reed opened her dorm room door, then sprang out of hiding as it began to swing closed. With one mighty lunge, she stopped the door with her hand before it was able to click shut and lock. Pressing her lips together to keep from laughing out loud, she swung the door open and stepped into the tiny dorm room behind her prey.

  Reed turned around with a smile, undoubtedly expecting to find someone she knew. The moment she saw Ariana, she turned to stone. Her lips drained of color, her coat dropped to the ground, and she screamed.

  Ariana had never heard anything so lovely in her life.

  OVER

  Reed’s eyes darted left, then right, and Ariana saw it register in her eyes. She was going to die. She knew she was going to die.

  Slowly, Ariana smiled. It was so delectable, so perfect, so much more gratifying than she had ever imagined. Every single thing Ariana had been through to get here—all the death, all the pain, all the hunger, all the fear, all the loss, all the paranoia, all of it—was now worth it.

  “Hello, Reed,” she said, tilting her head. “Don’t you have a hug for your old friend?”

  “You’re dead. You’re supposed to be dead,” Reed said, taking a step back.

  Her butt bumped against her desk and she stumbled sideways. She was so scared, so thrown, so trembly—just like a baby rabbit. Ariana advanced slowly, savoring every moment. She had a feeling this was going to be too easy, and she suddenly wanted more than anything to make it last.

  “Yes, well. Don’t believe everything you read,” Ariana said. She picked up a framed photo from atop Reed’s dresser. It was a picture of Reed, Noelle, Taylor, and Kiran, taken fairly recently. “Aw.” She turned it around to face Reed. “And then there were two.”

  Then she flung the photo at the wall and pounced. As her leather-gloved fingers closed around Reed’s slim neck, Ariana felt every bit of her anger, every bit of her frustration, every bit of her venom course into her hands. She pushed her thumbs deep into Reed’s clavicle and bore down, pressing as hard as she possibly could. Her teeth gritted together and her eyes felt as if they were going to burst from her skull.

  “No,” Reed croaked, grasping for Ariana’s wrists. “Stop … please….”

  “Yes, yes, yes. Beg me,” Ariana said through her teeth. “Beg me not to do it. Please, just beg me.”

  She let up just the tiniest bit, giving Reed room to speak.

  “Please, Ariana,” she whispered, holding on to her wrists. “Please …”

  “That’s it. God, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” Ariana said. Then she squeezed even harder, leaning in, slamming the back of Reed’s skull against the shelf above the desk.

  Reed’s eyes began to unfocus. They began to slowly roll from side to side. It was all Ariana could do to keep from laughing. She had thought she wanted APH. She had thought she wanted Princeton. She had thought she wanted a career and a home and children and love. But now she realized that it was all about this. All about this moment.

  All she really wanted in the entire world was to watch Reed Brennan die.

  And then, something suddenly cracked against the side of her head, and Ariana’s vision blackened over. Her arms dropped at her sides and she fell against the bed, then slid to the floor. Her fingers instinctively went to her skull. As her vision began to clear, she brought them in front of her face. They were covered in blood.

  Reed was doubled over coughing. In her hand was a heavy white mug. Ariana could just make out the Easton Academy logo emblazoned across the side.

  “What … how did you …?” Ariana blinked and shook her head. Darts of pain jabbed into her skull, and she felt momentarily dizzy. Can’t take your eyes off her for a second, Ariana thought as she pushed herself to her feet. It was a mistake she wouldn’t repeat.

  As Reed started to regain her breath and stood up straight again, Ariana focused. She shoved the girl as hard as she could with both hands, slamming her back against the desk. Reed reeled around and cracked Ariana across the cheek with her fist. Ariana’s head jerked to the right, but she instantly whirled back around and landed an even harder punch against Reed’s left temple. Reed fell sideways onto the bed, and Ariana didn’t hesitate. She pounced on her victim, flattening her back on the bed, her knees pressed with all her weight into Reed’s shoulders. Reed’s hands were above her head and under her pillow, in a pathetic gesture of surrender. Ariana closed her hands around her throat once again.

  This time she was not going to stop until the girl was dead.

  “It’s all because of you,” Ariana said, pressing down. “My whole life sucks because of you.”

  Suddenly, Reed’s knee jabbed upward, and she shoved Ariana off of her with a force Ariana wouldn’t have thought possible. She caught herself on the end of the bed as Reed sat up, drawing her hands out from under her pillow. Drawing out with them a small black gun.

  Ariana’s eyes widened. She staggered backward, her heart pounding an erratic beat in her ears. Slowly, Reed stood up, grasping the gun with both hands like a professional, training it on Ariana’s heart.

  “What the …?” Ariana stuttered out, staring at the gun.

  “A lot’s changed since you last saw me, Ariana,” Reed snapped, her voice hoarse. “And just so we’re clear, your whole life sucks because you’re a sorry-ass excuse for a human being.”

  No. No, no, no. This was not the way this was supposed to happen. Ariana was supposed to see Reed die. She was supposed to take Reed’s life. Reed Brennan had taken every last thing from her. She could not let her take this, too.

  She must die … she must die … she must die …

  I am in control here, Ariana thought desperately. I am in control.

  “Now, why don’t you just stay over there against the wall while I call the police?” Reed suggested haughtily, taking one hand off the gun to reach for her phone.

  Ariana flinched, seeing her opportunity. She let out a screech from the bottom of her lungs that held within it every last ounce of fury she had inside of her and lunged for Reed. A shot went off, ringing in her ears, deafening her to everything else. She saw Reed staring down at her in shock and disgust as blood seeped from her chest. Then she hit the floor at Reed Brennan’s feet, and everything went black.

  GRADUATION

  “I can’t believe we’re graduating tomorrow,” Ariana said, cuddling deep into her boyfriend’s arms. The verdant branches overhead swayed lazily in the breeze as Thomas Pearson leaned back against the oak tree’s thick trunk. All across the Easton Academy quad, students lazed about, chatted on cell phones, and tipped their faces toward the early summer sun.

  “I can’t believe I’m sleeping with the valedictorian,” Thomas replied, his blue eyes mischievous.

  “Thomas!” Ariana protested, her jaw dropping in mock offense even as she grinned.

  “Okay, ew,” Kiran Hayes said, throwing a bit of bagel at Thomas’s head. “It’s too early in the morning for that visual.”

  “Just showing off,” Thomas replied with a shrug. He nuzzled Ariana’s neck and she closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath—drinking in the warm, musky smell of him.

  “What else is new?” Dash McCafferty asked, nudging the back of Thomas’s shoulder with his knee as he and Noelle Lange rounded the tree.

  Noelle tucked her flouncy skirt bene
ath her as she sat on the picnic blanket laid out under the tree and lifted her thick, dark hair over her shoulder. She looked around, her expression typically irked as she reached for a bagel.

  “Where is the coffee?” she groused. “I need coffee.”

  “As always, your wish is my command,” Taylor Bell called out, arriving with two trays of iced drinks. She placed them down in front of Noelle and stood up straight, shaking her blond curls back from her face.

  “Were you going to join us, or were you just going to hover?” Noelle asked, taking a sip of her latte.

  Taylor narrowed her blue eyes. “I don’t know. Something feels off today, doesn’t it?”

  “Off?” Ariana asked, tucking her long blond hair behind her ear as she reached for a coffee. “It’s June, the sun is shining, we’re all here together. This is the perfect day.”

  She took a sip of her coffee, then offered the straw to Thomas. He gave her a sly smile, one that sent shivers of happiness all through her body, as he leaned in and took a sip. But when he sat back again, his face looked suddenly pale. Almost gray.

  “Thomas?” Ariana said, concerned. “Are you all right?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, clearing his throat. “Does anyone else feel cold?”

  “I’m freezing,” Kiran replied, tugging a leather jacket around her slim shoulders.

  Ariana glanced up at the bright sun, the gorgeous blue sky, but suddenly the sun seemed too bright, the sky far too vivid a blue, and her heart skipped a frightened beat. When she looked down again, it took a moment for her vision to clear of the floating, purple spots caused by the sun’s glare. When she could finally focus again, she saw that Kiran’s skin had gone waxy. She looked positively ill. Halfway dead, really.

  “What the hell?” Dash said suddenly, his cheek full of unchewed bagel. “Thomas. You’re bleeding.”

  Thomas was white as snow now. He lifted his hand to his head and his fingers came back caked with blood. A single rivulet of dark red blood seeped past his ear and dripped off his chin. “What?”

 

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