Gemma
Don’t even look at him. Don’t do it.
My eyes casually grazed the edge of the laptop that the headmaster had given me, and I hated myself for not being able to keep a hold of my emotions. I’d done so well all day long. I didn’t look for him in the hallway, even though I knew exactly where he was. I didn’t find those piercing icy depths during lunch, even though I could tell he was looking at me, because Sloane would tense each time. When we’d gone to sit outside during the boys’ lacrosse practice, I kept my back turned to the field, resting along the fence as I sketched the same thing over and over again in my journal, trying to keep the momentum of anger and betrayal at the forefront of my brain.
Not the betrayal of Isaiah. Even though everything from last night made my throat close up at the mere thought, I knew him—at least, a part of him. I knew, deep down, he wasn’t lying when he’d given me an explanation for his vile words and why he didn’t jump in to take his father’s hands off me. Did it still hurt? Yes. But the betrayal that I felt from Richard was tenfold. His actions were like sharp shards of glass, cutting into me deeper and deeper as the memory of that place continued to resurface. I had a nightmare last night, which I’d already expected. It was the memory that I seemed to unlock by going to the psychiatric hospital—the Covens—by myself. It was a memory that I’d buried away for years because reopening that wound hurt more than being shoved to my knees and chained up from innocently asking about my mother. The older I got, the more confused I became over the lies Richard had fed me. But I’d known this entire time. It just took that tattered green awning from last night to open my eyes. I was on the brink of learning more about that night in my deep slumber, but Sloane had woken me up before things progressed.
What I’d managed to gather, though, was that Richard Stallard was the sick one. He should have been shoved into that padded room. Not my mother.
“Stop researching the hospital, Gemma. You won’t find anything on the website.”
My fingers stilled over the keyboard as I tried leveling my breathing. My heart pounded as I listened to the clicking of the clock overhead. There was a massive wall between Isaiah and I now. It was much bigger than it was when we’d first met. But just because it was bigger, that didn’t mean it was sturdy. It felt fragile. Like it was thrown up too quickly, and it would fall down with the slightest crack.
I straightened my shoulders, thinking back to the pep talk that Sloane had given me before I left to come to the library. She wanted me to blow off tutoring. To tell Isaiah to fuck off and that I didn’t owe him anything, much less to help him with raising his grades. And a part of me wanted to tell him that, but there was an even bigger part of me that broke last night and formed me into this girl that was strong-willed and determined to be independent without two strong hands gripping her waist with whispered promises of safety inside her ear. I wasn’t going to hide from Isaiah. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I’d been put in shittier situations, and I knew I could handle this. Living with someone like Richard had groomed me to act in ways I didn’t want to. I could act like being near Isaiah didn’t make my stomach pull. I could pretend that catching his eye didn’t make my entire body hot. It wasn’t that hard to stay leveled. Right?
“I’m serious. Leave it be.”
My eyes caught his again as I peeked up over the computer. I wasn’t going to lie; intimidation looked good crowding his dark features. “Why don’t you just sit over there and pretend we’re tutoring? Isn’t that what you wanted? For things to go back to how you originally planned?” I shut my laptop and crossed my arms over my uniform. I didn’t bother changing after school today. I didn’t want to feel the denim of jeans rubbing over my scrapes caused by his father shoving me down to my knees. “You wanted me to go back to knowing nothing about your life. Nothing about you or Bain or your daddy issues. I don’t ask where you go when you need to leave in the middle of a tutoring session. I cover for you if anyone asks. Yeah, that’s about it. Right? I mean, if you’re caught out in the hall after curfew, you were just walking me back to my room from tutoring? Yeah? That’s the plan? That’s your cover?”
He sighed, gripping the pencil in his fist so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Gemma.”
My name was more of a warning than anything, and it pissed me off. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Correct me if I’m wrong.”
I heard the crack of the pencil, but I stayed locked on his face. The intimidation lingered for a split second before something else came over his features. His jaw untightened, and his brows lowered. “I hurt you last night.”
I scoffed, pretending I didn’t care. “I’ve been hurt worse, trust me. Don’t flatter yourself.” Lies. Lies. Lies. The hurt I was used to was tangible. Richard didn’t slice away at my heart like Isaiah did, so I wasn’t used to this silent, underlying pain. And I really couldn’t figure out what was better, the physical hurt or the emotional. The only good thing was that I could hide my emotions. I couldn’t do that with the scars along my wrists.
Isaiah leaned back onto the chair and continued to stare at me. I wanted to move in the worst way. I wanted to fidget as butterflies coated the inside of my belly, or better yet, I wanted to burn them all together. Too much had happened last night, and I was left feeling desperate and confused. I should have felt anger when I looked into those icy pools, not this annoying trickle of anticipation. There was a wicked part of me that wanted him to say fuck it and take me in his arms. I ached to feel his hands around my waist again. I craved to feel that solitude I felt when he kissed me and showed me things that made me feel rebellious and free.
No.
“He’s not there, Gemma.”
My chest stopped rising as I repeated his words. There was no warm breath leaving my mouth or silent arguments over my body continuing to react to him. The ticking in my ear only stopped long enough for me to confirm who and what he was talking about. “Excuse me?”
Isaiah moved forward, placing his bare forearms on the table. The corded muscles beneath the skin danced out of the corner of my eye.
“Your brother is not at the Covens.” He blinked once, and I tried my hardest to unblur my vision as he confirmed what I'd already suspected. “That's why you went, right? To see if your uncle had sent him there four years ago when he left you? You wanted to know why you’d recognized it that first night.”
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard it bled. The metallic taste coated my tongue and sent chills flying down my arms. The longer Isaiah stared at me, the more I wanted to break. “That’s none of your business now, is it? What happened to our no-questions-asked policy? That stands now that we’re back to our original plan, right?”
I swallowed past the rising lump, wanting to shove the laptop off the table as buried feelings started to suffocate me. I knew why the psychiatric hospital was familiar to me now, but there was still a small part of me that hoped Tobias was there. If Richard had sent my mother there, he could have sent him there too.
“I don’t believe you,” I remarked, gripping the edge of the table. “And how could you possibly know that? Wait. Don’t tell me. You’re somehow affiliated with that place? You weren’t only following Bain that night, huh? You know something else.” I laughed sarcastically and mumbled under my breath, “Your father probably runs it. That would make sense. He’s just as screwed up as Richard.”
“Richard?” he asked, treading slowly.
I ignored him. I didn’t care if he knew that Richard wasn’t my biological uncle. There was a more pressing issue coming to mind. “How do you know?” I asked, putting my watery gaze on his. “How do you know he isn’t there? I’m assuming you didn’t ask your father such a question, but then again, do I really even know you?” I shrugged, feeling the betrayal of everyone in my life come at me at once. “I mean, sure, I let you take my virginity, but that’s beside the point.”
“Gemma,” he warned again, but I raised my voice.