Cruel Love (Privilege 6)

Soon, her pulse started to calm. Her breathing returned to normal. Her brain began to clear. Soon all that was left behind was a simple, rhythmic beat.

She must die … he must die … she must die … he must die …

Suddenly there was a polite, but firm knock on her door. Ariana sat up, heart in her throat, pressing her fingertips into the floor.

Meloni. It had to be. He’d seen her and now he had come here to take her back to jail. Ariana stood up quickly and whirled around, searching the room for a weapon, but there was too much destruction, too much chaos. She brought her hands to her temples and pressed.

This was it. This was it. This was the end.

“Ana? It’s me. Palmer.”

Ariana froze. She could feel her heartbeat in her cheeks, radiating heat throughout the room. What the hell was Palmer doing here? She made a move for the door, feeling suddenly silly and overly dramatic when she saw the back of her chair shoved up under the door handle. She tugged it out and pushed it against the wall, then opened the door just

a crack.

“Oh, hey,” Palmer said, as if surprised she was there.

“Hey,” Ariana responded. She opened the door a bit wider, wedging her body between the door and the wall, to block his view of the mess behind her.

“Listen, I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting …,” Palmer said unexpectedly. There was a slam somewhere in the hallway and he looked around. “I really need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

Instead of waiting for an answer, Palmer laid his hand flat against the door and slipped past her. Ariana didn’t even have a chance to say a word or hold up a hand to stop him. The second he was over the threshold, his jaw went slack. Ariana stood there with her arms around her waist and watched him. She watched him take in the torn posters, the shredded books, the broken glass. He nudged a pile of rumpled clothing and cracked frames and computer wires with his foot. As he turned, ever so slowly, in a baffled circle, Ariana quietly closed her door.

“What the hell did you do?” Palmer demanded finally.

“I just … I guess I kind of lost it,” Ariana said, her brow furrowed.

“Lost it? Are you serious? This goes way past ‘lost it,’ Ana.” He brought his hand to his forehead. “My God. You really are insane. I mean, this is not normal. This is not the kind of thing a normal person does.”

“Shut up,” Ariana snapped.

“Shut up? Are you serious?” He looked her up and down like she was yesterday’s rotting trash. “I can’t believe I came over here to apologize to you. You’re completely out of your mind! Honestly? I’m starting to wonder if you really did do something to cause Lexa’s death.”

Ariana arms uncurled and her fingers clenched into fists at her sides. Suddenly the four walls around her began to close in, crowding her out, making it impossible to breathe. All she could see was Palmer’s face. His awful, unforgiving, accusing face. And all she wanted to do was tear it off his over-inflated head.

“Why are you just standing there?” Palmer spat. “Say something, you certifiable freak.”

Ariana knew he was in pain. She knew that being in mourning could screw with a person and make him act like a jerk. But she had never imagined that calm, collected, mature Palmer Liriano could be so outright cruel. Suddenly she saw herself reeling back and hitting him. She saw herself picking up her desk chair with both hands and swinging as hard as she could. She saw herself screeching at the top of her lungs and rushing him so hard, so fast, and so unexpectedly that he lost his balance and went flying through the windowpane, shedding broken glass all over the grass below and falling to his bone-crushing, skull-cracking death.

But she couldn’t do any of that. Of course she couldn’t. There had been too many deaths already, and all inside her circle of friends. If Palmer were to die right in her own room, the questions would certainly start.

Breathe, Ariana. Just breathe.

In, one … two … three …

Out, one … two … three …

“You know what, Palmer? I do have something to say,” she told him, turning toward the door again. Her palm was so sweaty it slipped once on the knob before she was able to grip it and get the door open. “Get out.”

Palmer scoffed, shaking his head in a condescending way. But he did walk by her, and paused in the doorway. He made a little teepee with his hands and placed it in front of his mouth for a moment, smiling mirthfully the whole time.

“Thank God we broke up,” he said, looking her in the eye. “And here’s fair warning: I am going to make sure that every single person in Stone and Grave knows exactly what kind of psychopath they’ve elected as their president. Enjoy your power trip while it lasts, Ana. Your days are numbered.”

Then, with one last derisive glance, he turned on his heel and walked away. Ariana had never slammed a door so hard in her life.

PEACE OF MIND

Ariana clutched the steering wheel as she searched the crowded downtown streets for an open space. She realized too late that she had just passed one and slammed on her brakes. The guy behind her honked his horn and swerved, but Ariana ignored both him and the rude gesture he tossed her way. Gritting her teeth, she quickly and deftly swung her car into the parallel spot.