Angry God (All Saints High 3)

“Lenora is a liar,” he said calmly.

I closed my eyes and exhaled raggedly.

I didn’t tell them anything, you eejit.

On the other side of the pool, Hunter and Soren’s exchange of words was getting out of control. Poppy rushed to them, trying to remedy the situation and figure out what was going on. Knight got back to poolside, and as soon as he saw Hunter and Soren, he hurried to them, too. My eyes ping-ponged back to Arabella, Alice, and Vaughn.

“She said that’s why she doesn’t want you.” Arabella continued with her bullshit. “That you’re too much of a freak, even for her.”

God. She was lying to him, and he was eating it up.

“I don’t care if she wants me or not,” Vaughn said drily, but he didn’t make a move to leave. Something was rooting him in place, and he took the verbal beating. He wanted to hear this, I realized with horror, to believe I’d done this to him.

“She said she’d tell everyone.” It was Alice’s turn to strike.

I’d just shoved the window open, planning to set the record straight, when two things happened simultaneously:

My shoelace bracelet, and the key attached to it, flew off and fell straight onto the deck by the pool, where someone kicked it into the water while passing by, leaving me locked in the attic.

Hunter threw a punch at Soren’s face.

Soren stumbled and fell into the pool, making a huge splash that had people whining and shrieking. A police siren wailed down the road. Someone had called the cops—probably because the music had been blasting for hours, and way past an appropriate bedtime. Girls screamed, and guys pushed each other to get to the door. Knight jumped into the pool to drag Soren out. The sirens grew louder and closer, and I cursed under my breath. I was locked in my attic.

Vaughn, Alice, and Arabella still stood in the same spot, though. Like nothing could pierce their bubble of anger and deceit.

“Vaughn!” I finally remembered the reason I’d opened the window in the first place. He looked up, his frown smoothing into boyish surprise when he saw my face. “They’re lying.”

“We’re not,” Arabella snapped.

“She told us in the locker room weeks ago. Spilled it all out,” Alice added.

He just stared at me, unmoving, like a sculpture—an angry god, a heartless prince. People were running around everywhere. Yelling. Screaming. Pulling their friends by their sleeves. I didn’t know for sure, but guessed there were drugs at the party. Poppy would never touch them, but that didn’t mean people hadn’t brought them. It was beyond her control.

I scanned the pool area. Joints, lines of crushed pills and powders, bongs, pills in bags, and more lay around everywhere. Anyone caught inside could very well kiss their college dreams goodbye.

“Get down here right now,” Vaughn barked at me. He sounded impatient, but not impersonal. I don’t think he realized that.

I shook my head. “I can’t. I’m locked upstairs. The key dropped into the pool,” I explained, just as the lights went out.

Poppy probably wanted to do some damage control on her way out, make it look like there hadn’t been a party.

Arabella sashayed toward a fire lamp standing on the wooden table by the loungers, making a show of running her finger around its edges, taking her time.

“Since you two are all secretive, and since this is getting on my nerves, I guess there’s only one way to find out if Vaughn really does like you, Drusilla. Oh, you thought changing your hair color was going to help cover your fugly face?” She looked up, scanning my recently restored hair. “So dead wrong.”

With a flick of her wrist, she knocked the lamp to the ground. The glass shattered, and the fire inside licked the table, spreading fast.

The alcohol.

Everything was soaked with alcohol. Arabella jogged toward Alice, tugging at her bikini string.

“Come on. Let fucked-up Romeo save his creepy Juliet. Oh, and Vaughn…” She looked back, smiling. “Thanks for all the help getting what I wanted. No hard feelings, right?” She winked.

I watched as the girls ran for safety as the fire spread across my backyard. The sound of the music died, replaced by wheels screeching to a stop as the police arrived. I closed my eyes and shook my head.

It was done. I knew it. There was no way for me to get out of here. Papa was still at work, off at the gallery. Everyone else had left.

“Jump,” Vaughn snarled.

I shook my head. I no longer cared about being caught inside a house full of drugs. I cared about surviving. Vaughn glanced at the pool, looked up again, and frowned. He was calculating something. Then it occurred to me.

He believed them.

He thought I’d told them his secret.

He wasn’t going to help me.

I swallowed hard.

Don’t beg.

Fear creeped in on me, coating every inch of my body with cold sweat, but I still couldn’t find it in me to plead with him to save me.