Amber slumped back in her chair. "I know whatI'mgoing to do. I'm never talking to Brittney again." She glanced up. "You know, she's not eveninmy sorority. I just let hersaythat to be nice."
"Maybe that's your problem," I said, "you're too nice to the wrong people."
Even as I said it, I felt like a giant shit-heel. I was one of those people, and for years now, Amber had been nicer to me than I probably deserved.
Suddenly, I felt too drained to think about it. I'd been awake for how long now? At least twenty-four hours.
"So anyway," Amber said, "that's why I'm sorry, not just for being mean before, but because the prank got all messed up." She gave me a hopeful smile. "So, do you forgive me?"
Her question hung in the air. If it had beenmewho'd gotten hurt, it would easy to let this slide. I said, "It's notmeyou should be apologizing to."
"Oh, I'm gonna apologize to Chloe, too," Amber said.
I thought of Brittney's apology. "I'm not sure that's such a good idea."
Amber leaned forward. "Oh, but it is. I'm gonna wear clothes and everything." She glanced at Bishop. "I heard what Brittney did. God, what a slut."
An hour later, Amber was gone. From the open front doorway, I watched her car pull out of the driveway and turn onto the quiet street.
From somewhere behind me, Bishop spoke. "You'll be glad you did that."
I turned, and there he was, watching me with those sharp eyes of his. I didn't want anyone studying me, and I sure as hell didn't feel like talking.
"Glad?" I made a scoffing sound. "There's nothing to be glad about here."
Yeah, I'd given Amber another chance. But it was more for my own sake than for hers. Karma – I wasn't a big believer in that sort of thing. But desperately, I wanted another chance with Chloe. And maybe, just maybe, if I gave a chance to someone else, Chloe would do the same for me.
It was worth a shot, right?
I strode past Bishop and made for the stairway. I needed a shower, and to crash for a few hours. It was Sunday, and for once, I didn't have anything planned.
Over my shoulder I said, "When the tow-truck comes, open the garage, will ya?"
I didn't wait for his answer. Instead, I went upstairs and made for the master bathroom, where I turned on the shower and then stripped out of my clothes. Waiting for the water to warm, I stood naked, looking into the full-length mirror.
I didn'tlooklike a monster. My face, my body, it all looked the same as yesterday. There was the same dark hair, the same dark eyes, the same body that was famous for more than fighting.
I recalled the words of some famous blogger. I had the face of an angel and a body for sin. I'd sinned, alright. Against Chloe.
In front of the mirror, I peeled off the wrist-bands and studied the raw skin underneath. I lifted my wrists for a closer look. The wounds went beyond simple rope burns. There was dried blood and damage so deep, it looked more like cuts than superficial scrapes from old-fashioned friction.
I thought of Chloe's wrists. My handcuffs. My fault.
I hadn't meant for her to get hurt. I hadn't even known. But I should have.
With a heavy sigh, I turned and headed into the shower, where I tried to scrub away the filth of the last twenty-four hours. But when the water ran cold however long later, I still felt dirty.
Chapter 21
Something was ringing. My cell phone. Instantly awake, I jerked upright in the bed. It was Chloe's ringtone. I grabbed the phone from the nearby nightstand and hit the button. "Chloe?"
Her voice, soft and sweet, was music to my ears. "So, I've got this mysterious car in the driveway."
I knew which car she meant. Hers, obviously. Last night, or more accurately, this morning, between my two conversations with Amber, I'd driven to the restaurant where Chloe worked.
Sure enough, I'd found her car parked in the same spot as before. And sure enough, just like she'd told me on my own doorstep, the thing didn't want to start.
"Yeah?" I said into the phone. "How mysterious?"
