Because we have no future. There’s no hope of it. And it would be unfair to her to keep her hoping for more. If I care about her, I have to let her go.
“No, there is no chance. I’m sorry, Aspen. Maybe it’s better if we just stop talking altogether.” No matter how it kills me to think about it. I was right before; it would be better if she hated me.
“I understand.” She nods slowly. Her eyes are wild, as if she is trying to process everything.
“I’ll keep protecting you around here,” I murmur. “That’s not going to change. You won’t be harassed or bullied.”
“Thank you,” she replies in a voice so small I can hardly hear it. “And thank you for being honest.”
I wish her thanks did anything to ease the crushing sense of this being completely wrong. My brain might tell me it’s the right thing to do, the fair thing, the logical step. Yet it means never touching her again. Never holding her, stroking her, tasting her. How do I wrap my heart around that?
It’s too much, being in the same room as her. Looking at her, smelling her, surrounded by her—it’s all too much.
I leave in a hurry, closing the door quietly before heading straight to my room. I hate myself. I hate this school. I hate everything and everyone. And I want someone to hurt as badly as I’m hurting now.
It so happens Ren is the first person I see, still stretched out on the couch. One look at me, and he knows what’s happened. I must wear it like a sign around my neck. “You know it’s the right thing in the end,” he says.
“How do you know what happened?”
“Call it my psychic abilities.” He rolls his eyes, sitting up and reaching for a small box on the coffee table. “Or you could call it the fact that I know you well. Take your pick.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter with conviction I don’t feel.
“Here.” He withdraws a joint from inside the box, along with a lighter. “Relax, take your mind off things.” Right now, anything I can do to forget for a little while looks like a good idea.
31
ASPEN
When there’s a knock on the door, my heart jumps. Thank God he came back.
I’m going to tell him I’m sorry. I’m going to tell him I don’t want any of this. How am I supposed to get through my days without him? Whatever it takes, I’ll do it. So long as we can make it work.
That’s why I open the door without asking who’s on the other side. I’m that desperate to get to Quinton.
Nash pushes his way into the room before I can stop him. “What a nice welcome. I knew you could be friendly if you had the opportunity.”
There’s no hope of running from the room thanks to him forcing the door closed. I can only stumble backward. “Get out of here.”
“Who’s going to make me?” He stands against the door, giving me no way out. “Not you. I’ve seen what happens when you’re overpowered, Aspen. You don’t put up much of a fight.”
“What are you talking about?” If only Quinton had stayed another minute or two, this wouldn’t be happening. Why won’t he come back?
“You don’t remember? Well, you weren’t in very good shape, so I guess you wouldn’t.” There’s that shark smile. Those empty eyes. “We spent a very special evening together. You were feeling sort of foggy, though.”
There’s only one night he could be talking about, but it can’t be true. “No. You weren’t there.”
“Wasn’t I?” He raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” No, I’m not sure, but I don’t remember him. He’s never come up in any of the broken memories. Not in the nightmares, either.
But it would explain so much at the same time. The little comments. The way he looks at me like we share a dirty secret.
“Not only was I there. I’m the one who gave you that little cocktail, which you should really thank me for.”
“I hope you know I just did you a huge favor…” Nash’s words ring in my ear. Nash… it was him. He gave me the drug. And now he wants me to thank him?
“I know what he did.” His voice is low, smooth. “Quinton, I mean. Q killed everybody involved, along with the entire Valentine family. Don’t lie. We both know it’s true.” His smile widens. “But he forgot about the guy who recorded the festivities. It was a hell of a memorable night.”
Oh, my god. He’s telling the truth. Nobody would lie about something like that. The fact that he knows about it at all tells me it’s true. “You’re a monster. You’re a fucking evil piece of shit.”
He responds with a grotesque pout. “Considering I’m the one who gave you the drugs to dull everything, you should thank me.”