Cruel Love (Privilege 6)

A PROMISE

Ariana slammed on the brakes of her silver Porsche outside the club and one of the valets jumped to open her door. She pushed herself up and out, still holding Meloni’s scarf to her side underneath her coat. As she tried to stand up straight, a lightning bolt of pain shot through her abdomen, and she found herself unequal to the task. She leaned hard on the door, practically doubled over, and tried to look as if she was simply relaxing.

“Good evening, Miss,” the valet said with a smile, holding the car door for her.

“I don’t want you to park it,” she said, a bead of sweat slipping from her temple down her cheek. She folded her coat over her dress, the skimpy fabric of which was completely soaked through with blood. The pain was growing unbearable. She had to get Jasper and get him to take care of her, or she was going to end up in a hospital, which would be the worst possible thing. “I need you to do me a favor.”

“Oookay,” the guy said, clearly confused.

She pulled her phone out and brought up a picture of Jasper. “See this guy?”

He nodded.

“Good. Go inside and get him for me,” Ariana ordered. Then she fell back into the leather bucket seat.

The valet hesitated. “Um … I’m not really supposed to leave my station.”

Ariana tugged a crisp hundred-dollar bill out of her wallet and handed it to him. His eyes widened in disbelief. “Go.”

“Yes, Miss.”

He ran inside, letting the door slam behind him

. Ariana leaned back in her seat, the exhaust making steam clouds against the night air, and closed her eyes. She imagined all of her friends inside, dancing, eating, drinking, wondering where she’d gone off to, assuming she was in another part of the club. She imagined how confused they’d be when they finally realized she’d ditched her own party, how devastated they’d be when they realized she was gone from APH entirely. She hadn’t decided yet whether or not to leave them a note. Certainly it would be the kind thing to do—to tell them she’d simply decided to drop out and move to Europe. It would keep them from fretting that she was dead, and probably keep Soomie out of the loony bin. But would it help or hurt her cause with the police? Part of her thought it would help because if she simply disappeared, they would be suspicious of her. But part of her thought it would hurt because it would let them know her plan.

Perhaps she could tell them she was going to Australia or Hawaii or Africa. Throw them off for a little while at least.

“Ana?”

Ariana’s eyes popped open at the sound of Jasper’s voice. He hovered next to her door, his cheeks ruddy with the cold. She’d never seen anything so perfect before in her life.

“Hey,” she said weakly.

Jasper crouched next to the open door. “Are you all right? You look sick.”

“I’m—”

Ariana shifted and the scarf tumbled out from under her dress, caked with blood.

“Holy—Ana! You’re hurt!” he whispered harshly.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she told him, pushing herself up straight.

“We have to get you to a hospital.” Jasper fumbled for his phone.

“No.” She gripped his wrist so tightly he froze. “Jasper, no. Do you remember, last night? What you said to me?”

Jasper’s brow knit. “What I said …?”

“About going to the ends of the earth for me?” Ariana prompted.

His eyes registered perfect clarity. “Of course.”

“Well I have to go. I have to leave the country. Now. Tonight,” she said furtively. “I came here to ask … will you come with me?”

Jasper leaned back on his heels. “Are you … you can’t be serious.”

Ariana felt his words inside her heart like a thousand tiny daggers. “Dead serious.” She reached for his hand and squeezed. “Jasper … please. I need an answer. Are you coming with me or not? I have a hotel room in Lisbon. We could be there first thing tomorrow. We could start a new life. One where no one knows me … knows us.”