But by who? And for what reason?
What did they put her through? And how is she even still breathing? From the looks of things, she has people after her. How long until one of them gets the better of her? How long until she ends up just like those two guys in the alley… dead on the ground, choking on her own blood as she lies lifeless?
The image has my blood running cold and a sickly feeling forming in my gut. I might not like her a lot of the time, but I don’t want that for her.Never for her.
She should get to live a normal life, just like the rest of us. There’s a part of me that wants to help her, that wants to get her out of the mess she’s gotten herself in. I just have no idea where to start or why I even want that.
“What is happening right now?” Lana’s voice brings meout of my thoughts, and I realize I completely forgot where I was.
“Sorry, what?”
Her jaw tics. “Did you listen to a word I just said?”
I rub the back of my neck. “No?” I say, though it comes out as more of a question, and she shakes her head in annoyance.
“Jesus,” she mutters, her fingertips digging into her temples like I’m giving her a headache.
At least now she knows how I feel whenever I’m around her.
Migraine-inducing little psycho.
“Why am I in here, Lana?” I ask with a sigh, just wanting to get this shit over and done with. What’s she going to do? Drug me like I did her? Pull her knife on me? Or a gun this time?
“I just wanted to talk,” she admits, almost like she’s defeated, and I stare at her in confusion.
“You want to… talk?” I ask, the idea of it not sounding right in the slightest.
“Yes, Cole. I want to talk. I know you had nothing to do with the dumbasses who put up those posters around campus, but they did it to get your attention. And then this morning, I find out that they’ve started a damn blog about me, and they need to stop. You need to get them to stop. You’ve already seen some shit you shouldn’t have, and how do you think it is that they found me, Cole? They found me because you put me in that damn newspaper. Luckily, I managed to get it down pretty quickly, but people still know where I am now. I was hoping it was only a minority that knew my whereabouts and not a certain family, but the more they post online…”
“The easier it’ll be for people to know where you are,” Ifinish for her, though still internally reeling at everything she’s just said.
She’s in trouble, I’ve known that for a while, but this… this is bad.
And it’s all my fault.
Fuck. Why do I feel sick? Maybe I’m coming down with something that’s making it feel like there’s a boulder sitting on my chest and is making my throat tighten.
“I’ll get them to stop,” I say hoarsely. “I’m sorry that they found you because of me.”
Her eyes widen, like she never in a million years expected an apology from me. It’s fair, I didn’t think I’d ever find myself apologizing to her either, but the vulnerability she’s showing me… I just can’t not apologize when she looks the way she does right now.
Her hair’s a mess as usual, but her eyes are sunken, she looks so pale she almost looks gray, and it even looks like she may have lost weight.
Fuck.
I’m an asshole. I’ve always been an asshole, but I’ve never regretted anything the way I regret this. The way I regret what I’ve done to her.
“You don’t have class?” I find myself asking, and she shakes her head.
“I’m done for the day. I was on my way to the gym when I spotted you. I need to work out.”
She needs an outlet.
It’s only then that I take in what she’s wearing. She’s wearing gym leggings, a black hoodie, and workout sneakers on her feet. I check what I’m wearing—black slacks and a gray sweater.
We’re complete opposites in every way, yet it does nothing to stop this pull I feel towards her.
I sigh. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”
