Anguish flickers on her face. Self-doubt. I take the distraction and twist away, throwing both of us on the floor. Her head hits the table between the bed and I scramble away. I run toward the door, but she’s up in an instant, racing over the bed and knocking me down. She gets between me and the door, blocking my exit.
Breathing heavy, I turn on the lamp, illuminating the room. Her hair is messy, her eye makeup smeared. Dark bruises mark the pale skin on her throat. I touch my neck.
“He did that to you. Coach Chandler.”
“I wanted him to.” She juts her chin out—ever defiant. “If Rose could do it, then so could I. Then maybe you’d love me.”
Her eyes are soulless. Lost. “Alice, what you’re saying isn’t rational. I didn’t love Rose. She was troubled. In trouble. I don’t want anything to do with that, and you shouldn’t either.”
“SugarBabies trouble?” she asks, eyes narrowed. “BD, trouble? Because you seemed eager to dive into all that. Isn’t that right, Princess.”
My heart skips.
“How do you know about that?”
“Because I know you, Kenley Keene. I know about your obsession with Audrina Dollanganger and her Eden books. I know about your inability to let anything go. I know your passwords, your favorite flower, where you keep the spare key under your back porch. I even know your fucking bra size.”
My mouth turns dry. “You broke into my house. You left that stuff, then stole it back. Why?”
“Because you wanted to play games. You wanted risk. You wanted excitement—I’m the one that gave it to you.”
“But Chandler and Waller—they were behind it. They were gaslighting me. They were trying to scare me off.”
That’s what Mr. Baxter said. My mind races.
She tilts her head. “Were they?”
“Have they been making you do all this?” I ask. “Why are you telling me? Why now?”
“Because you love games and I gave them to you. I’m your match, Kenley.” She takes a step forward, closing the gap. I’ve got nowhere to go. I’m trapped. “I’m the one you should love. Not that thick-necked jock, or the delinquent. Not pathetic Ozzy. I’m not mad at your time with them. You gained experience. Just like I did. I knew that testing those boundaries would only make our connection more thrilling.”
I knew Alice was struggling, but I had no idea she’d gone so far off the deep end.
“Give me a chance, Ken. Let me show you how good I can make you feel.”
I don’t say a word. I just wait as she approaches, body shaking, nerves fried. I’ve had a lot of feelings about Alice over the years, but this is the first time I’ve been afraid.
She’s a foot away when I ball my fists and take a step back. I think back to all my workouts with Finn; the boxing, the cardio, the pushing myself to the limit. I’d wanted to feel strong after Monica. I don’t. I’m just scared, but I know what I have to do. I lunge forward, hands outstretched, taking her off guard. The palm of my hand juts into her throat, hitting her where she’s already bruised. She gasps, gagging, eyes wide in surprise. I punch her in the side and push her on the bed, focused on my escape. I get to the door and fumble with the lock, the security bar is flipped, my hands tremble.
“Kenley, stop,” she gasps, but I get the door open and step into the silent hall. It’s late—way past curfew. I run, not sure where to go. Not sure where to hide.
“Kenley!”
Her voice is a harsh whisper, bouncing off the hallway walls. The elevator doors open just as I get to the end of the hall and I step inside. I press the button to close the door and watch Alice’s face crumble as the door slides shut. The boys are on the fourth floor. A room number floats in my head. Four-twelve.
The doors open and I step outside, heart racing for a million reasons. Is Alice following me? Am I going to get caught? What the hell is going on?
I pass the dimmed sconces that divide the rooms and stop in front of their door, second guessing that it’s the
right number. What if it’s Chandler’s room? Waller or Baxter.
I hear a noise down the hall and don’t wait to see what caused it, knocking on the door.
I wait, and do it again.
“Come on, come on, come on,” I mutter, panic filling my chest. I’m about to give up when the door opens and a confused and shirtless Ezra opens the door.
“Oh thank God.” I rush past him and pull him with me, closing the door and double checking the lock.