Dead Girls Never Talk - Page 6

I chuckled as Gemma’s hand fell. Her tiny fists clenched, and she placed them on her hips, turning fully toward her boyfriend. I stood back with a half-grin on my face, momentarily letting the black pit in my stomach shrink.

“I wonder what would have happened if you didn’t show up that night to take over?”

I watched as Isaiah’s eyes darkened, and I sighed. “Will you two fucking stop it? Do not bring me into this. I have never wanted to fuck Gemma.”

“Chill.” Isaiah laughed, pulling Gemma into his chest in a single whoosh. “We’re just messing with you.”

“Sounds more like foreplay if you ask me.”

Isaiah shrugged. “Maybe it is.”

“Isaiah!” Gemma tried to act stern, but there was a ghost of a smile on her face.

I huffed. “I’ll give you twenty minutes, and then you two better be done fucking.”

“Done.” Isaiah winked at Gemma, and she slapped his chest.

“Isaiah, I swear! Cade, come back to your room. We can all just hang out.”

I crossed my arms, looking from my best friend to his girlfriend. “Isaiah’s face is telling me differently.”

“Yeah, Isaiah’s face is telling him differently.”

Gemma turned around in his arms and peered up to look at him. “Cade needs us right now. Let’s be good friends.”

Isaiah leaned down, his mess of hair hanging over his forehead as he kissed the tip of Gemma’s nose. “Okay, baby.”

“Jesus,” I muttered. Neither Gemma nor Isaiah spared me a single glance as I leaned back onto the far wall. “I have something to do. I’ll be back to the room in an hour. Go…you fucking love birds.”

Gemma glanced behind her shoulder as Isaiah kept his hands along her hips, not bothering to look at me as he asked, “What are you up to?”

“Nothing.”

“Cade. Give her time. Trust me.”

I shook my head at Gemma. “I’m not going to Journey's room.”

Isaiah barked out a laugh. “Fucking someone else won’t help you forget about her. Especially now that she’s back. And you couldn’t last an hour fucking someone if you tried.”

No fucking shit, Isaiah. I wouldn’t even be able to get it up for someone now that she was back and looking just as downright edible as ever.

I sensed the confusion and leeriness from Gemma even as I turned my gaze away and stared at the wall across from me, ignoring Isaiah’s dig at my stamina. It was a nice wall. It would be a shame if I rammed my fist through it to feel something other than what I’d been feeling for the last several months.

As soon as Gemma and Isaiah turned around and sneakily walked back to the boys’ hall, I turned my attention down the long hall and stared so hard at Journey’s door I was half-surprised it didn’t burst into flames. The door wasn’t visible in the dark corridor except for every other beat as the candlelight seemed to flicker in a direct line of the dark wood.

Pushing off the wall with a loud huff, blood rushed to my fingertips as I stalked over to the linen closet that housed much more than extra bedding and towels. Just as my hand hit the cool knob, I heard the sound of a door opening. The iron-clad chains bounced off one another just as quickly as my heart thudded to the floor. I craned my neck and saw her small frame standing in the doorway of her new room.

Too many things hit me, and it was like being doused in gasoline. Fuck. I turned, knowing damn well I needed to go read my daily reminder that was tucked underneath the towel-lined shelf in that supply closet instead of walking toward her, but as soon as I squared my shoulders and caught a glimpse, she froze. Even from far away, I felt something shift in the air, and the next thing I knew, she was gone, and her door was slammed shut.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, fingers digging into the doorknob, and I rushed into the linen closet to get out of the suffocatingly empty hallway. I craned my neck back and breathed a heavy breath, blowing out the air inside my lungs to fill the tiny area. This is exactly what you need. I nodded, leveling my head, and walked two feet over to the left and bent down and shifted so I could push my fingers underneath the shelf. The tattered edges of the papers snagged with my rough skin, and I pulled the torn pieces toward me and sat back on my ass, resting my head along the soft towels. I pulled my cell phone out of my pocket, and the flashlight illuminated the words that I needed to read over and over again so it forced me to stay away, even if I wanted nothing more than to pull Journey into my chest and allow us to bleed together. Because that was what it felt like when I thought of her. Like I was bleeding and the wound just wouldn’t fucking stop.

I scanned each piece of paper, one by one, folding them in half and putting them into my trusty little pile of secrets, until I got to the last one, knowing it was from the day that I last saw her.

Her death will be on your hands.

And it nearly was.

Tags: S.J. Sylvis Romance
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