A Deal With the Devil (Boys of Preston Prep 2)

She blinks at me lazily and I hate it. I hate the flat look in her eyes and the way her head lolls on her neck. “The picture—”

“Was completely fucking staged. And I have the video to prove it.” I lift my phone. It hadn’t been easy to convince Fiona to send it to me. It had been less easy to force her to permanently delete the copy on her phone, and then the one on ChattySnap.

She repeats a slow, teeth-chattering, “Staged.”

I try again to turn on the phone, but it suddenly dawns on me why it won’t. “Son of a bitch,” I growl, shaking the water from the case. All that rain from the roof had gone straight into my fucking pockets. I deflate, flinging it aside. “Phone’s fucked. I might need a little more time to—maybe some rice, or—”

“It’s okay.” She doesn’t look like it’s okay. She looks miserable. “Why would she do that?”

“Because she’s jealous, V.”

“Of me?”

I shrug. “Yes. And me. And the Devils, and the Playthings.” I still remember the bitterness in her eyes, and the despair hidden underneath it. “Sydney wanted to hurt us.”

“I know.” She looks away, chin dipping. “I know she did.”

“Where did you get all those pills?”

Softly, she answers, “Around. I had them stashed in… places.”

I take a second to wrap my head around that, the fact that Vandy’s been sitting on a fucking mountain of narcotics. I point to the space beside the toilet, voice accusing. “You stood there—right there—and promised me that was the last.”

I don’t hear anything for a long moment, and when I do, it’s just the wet sound of a sob. It startles me into finally turning to her, eyes landing on her shivering form, curled in on itself.

“I lied,” she says. “I didn’t want you to know that I—”

“Hey, no,” I gently pry her hands from her face, surprised at how cold they feel. “Fuck, you’re freezing.” Idiotic statement. I was the one who blasted her with cold water. I’m not faring much better, still dripping wet from the storm outside.

She lets me pull her shirt over her head. Helps me take off her shorts and underwear. Sits there and blankly watches as I run a hot bath, plugging the drain.

Her hand wraps around my wrist when I pull back, though. “You’re bleeding.”

I only barely caught a reflection of myself as I rushed in here, but I saw enough to know how grisly I must look. “Just my nose.” My tongue prods around inside my mouth. “And my lip.”

She looks at me with her wet, wrong eyes, pulling in a long sniffle. “Get in with me?”

She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I begin peeling off my suit, hissing when the heavy, weighted fabric grazes against my bruises and scrapes. She lets me get into the tub behind her, pulling her into my chest as the tub fills. The water is bordering on too-hot, but it relaxes my aching muscles, and she’s stopped shivering. Too much adrenaline for one night, I bury my face into her neck and breath in the scent of her, alive and okay. God, if I’d lost her. If she’d taken more of those pills…

When it’s full, she grabs a washcloth. “Let me…”

I don’t argue when she turns, gently dabbing the cloth over my chin. Her eyes are a little clearer now, watching raptly as she cleans the blood away. Her small sniffle is still loud in the silence. “I’m sorry about Em.”

I shrug. “You might not be when you see him.”

Despite everything, the corner of her mouth quirks up. Her eyes fall to my chest, her legs all crowded between us. “I think I was… glad.” Her forehead creases. “Or not glad, but maybe… relieved? Grateful?”

“Grateful for what?”

When her eyes meet mine, they’re full of guilt. “I was talking to Tyson earlier, and I was telling him that things are so much better now. That I don’t need the pills—the escape. Because I have you and the Devils, and things are so… so good for once. And then I saw that picture…” Her face goes tight, shuttered.

Comprehension dawns over me. “It gave you a reason.” I still her hand, gently taking the cloth away. “Maybe Em was right. Maybe you’re not ready for this.” It hurts like a bitch to admit, but I can’t ignore it.

Her eyes fall closed. “Don’t say that, Reyn. I can take it from my parents and him, but not you.”

“Baby, look at me,” I say, touching her chin. When her blue eyes open, so full of fear and sadness, I explain, “I like being the reason you don’t need it anymore, but I can’t—I won’t be the reason you do need it.”

Her lip wobbles and I still it with a kiss, tender and full of things I can’t bear to say. “I promise I won’t do it again.”