Angry God Page 12

  The nightmare didn’t come back.

  The next day, I woke up to a basket full of assorted chocolate on my nightstand.

  Poppy.

  I bought a hair dye remover and washed my hair, gradually bringing it back to its natural sunshine color. I dumped the lip ring and the septum piercing into the bathroom bin. There was no more need to pretend.

  I was who I was, and I was going to be enough.

  Graduation came and went in a blur of flying hats, silky robes, and wholesome family pictures everybody faked their smiles through. The night before we flew back to England, Poppy threw a goodbye party and invited all of her old mates, even the assholes.

  Even Arabella, Alice, and Soren.

  I couldn’t dispute it. She had no idea what they’d done to me, and had no clue I was so shaken by Arabella and Vaughn’s public blow job. Besides, Poppy wanted to erase the aftertaste of the last pool party we’d been to—the one where they’d almost killed her.

  The house was naked of furniture at this point. Everything was packed, wrapped, and shipped back to England. It was a bare, open, cold space with loads of alcohol and snacks on the kitchen counter.

  Poppy had asked me several times if I was okay with her throwing a party.

  I’d said yes. And I wasn’t lying. Even though I knew damn well I was going to be locked somewhere for a few hours, feeling like a reject, I didn’t want to ruin it for my sister. I had it all planned out.

  I spent the time in the attic, in Papa’s studio—now an empty space, with the vacant shape of Vaughn’s sculpture in the center of it, adorned by a thick layer of stone dust.

  No one could get into the studio without the key, and I locked myself in from the inside, stocking up on water bottles and a party mix chocolate bag Poppy had left on my nightstand earlier that day. I slipped the key onto a shoestring and made a bracelet out of it, tying it around my wrist so I wouldn’t lose it.

  The echo of the music downstairs rattled the attic’s walls and floor, but I had my headphones on, bobbing my head to “Handsome Devil” by The Smiths and sketching on my pad, sitting on the floor with my back against the wall.

  I took a bite of a chocolate-peanut pretzel and clapped my tongue against the roof of my mouth, savoring the taste of the cocoa and salt dissolving. I made a mental note to thank Poppy for leaving me a pack of sweets every single night since The Nightmare, the night Vaughn and Arabella had provided me with a horror show.

  She was religious about it, which made me feel incredibly loved.

  Flipping a page in the sketchbook, I drew the general shape of a head, then gave it an elaborate crown of thorns. My mind began to reel as I thought about all the possibilities. I could find thorns in all the rosebushes in Carlisle Castle and make a crown out of them. A real one.

  I could shape the head with clay—no, tin. Dirty, rusty metal. Carve the curves of the face with a Dremel.

  A shriek from outside pierced the music coming from my headphones. I pulled them down to my shoulders and put the sketchbook aside, standing up and walking toward the window. My investment levels in what happened were low. Really, I only wanted to check to see that Poppy was okay.

  I didn’t even wonder if Vaughn had come to the party. Not even once. It seemed like he wouldn’t. He’d been pretty much MIA for months, but had stopped attending parties altogether after our kiss in my bath—the height of his insanity, I suppose.

  I watched the people in the pool.

  It was completely dark at eleven at night, with glow sticks floating in the water, as well as glowing balloons and floats in the shape of bacon, onion rings, swans, and glowing hearts. Girls in bikinis splashed each other. Some were sitting on guys’ shoulders, playing chicken fight.

  And then there was Vaughn, my eyes were drawn to him like a magnet. He was perched on one of the sunbeds outside the pool, completely clothed, engrossed in a conversation with Knight and Hunter. Knight was shirtless, a ball cap atop his hair without him actually wearing it, and the seahorse tattoo on his spine drew attention to his ripped, muscular back.

  Guess Knight and Poppy got over their weirdness, then, if he was here. Because Knight was definitely committed to Luna Rexroth at this point, one hundred percent.

  “What was that scream?” Poppy burst through the glass doors from the kitchen with a pitcher in her hand, clad in a tiny bikini, her bra like two light pink seashells.

  Hunter looked up from his conversation with Knight and Vaughn, explaining evenly. “Arabella, Alice, and Stacee played cock-fight. It’s like chicken fight, but whoever makes a guy come first by sucking his cock underwater gets the prize.”

  “That sounds utterly terrible,” my sister gasped. “What was the prize?”

  “Vaughn.” Knight and Hunter laughed in unison.

  My heart lodged in my throat. Not this again. I took a step back from the window, not wanting to see any more of it, just as Vaughn stood up and cut through the throng. The crowd parted for him. Of course it did.

  “That’s not why I came here,” he said.

  “Why did you come here?” Hunter wondered aloud. “You’re being a miserable piece of shit.”

  Vaughn looked around, but said nothing.

  “Come on.” Arabella hopped out of the pool.

  My pool, that I swam naked in. I tried not to think about that.

  “Don’t be such a party pooper, Vaughn. One last hurrah before we all say goodbye. I’m winning!” She laughed.

  Alice was at her heel like a puppy. They both had thong bikinis. Alice’s was bright yellow, and Arabella’s was orange and looked lovely against her tan skin. I hated that they were attractive. They made it difficult to believe in karma, because if karma really went after the bad people, how come they had everything (including both parents)?

  Hunter and Knight stood up, too. Knight retired into the house, putting his phone to his ear, and Hunter frowned in Soren’s direction on the other side of the pool. I followed his steps toward him with my eyes. Soren was sitting on a lounger next to a nearly passed-out girl who used to take cal with me—Bianca. Quiet, quite nerdy, always wanting to fit in. She was obviously drunk. It looked like Soren was making a move on her, and Hunter didn’t like it.

  Vaughn ignored both Alice and Arabella, getting ready to leave. This time, Alice was the one who grabbed his arm. Even I knew that was a mistake. Vaughn didn’t like to be touched. He stopped on impact, narrowing his eyes at her.

  “I broke up with Jason for you.” She thrust her body against his.

  “I’d break up with Jason for a rock, so no great loss there. ’Sides, no one asked you to.”

  “You asked me for a blow job.” She stomped her foot.

  “Could’ve said no. Or is that word not in your vocabulary?”

  “You’re an asshole, Spence.”

  “Smelled many to recognize one? Any other mind-blowing revelations?”

  “Yeah, actually, your little friend, Drusilla, told us your secret. It is quite the scandalous secret, Spence.”

  The floor quaked beneath my feet, and I gripped the windowsill, trying to regain my balance.

  She’s lying.

  My teeth slammed together in anger, my fingers itching to fling open the window and call her out on the lie. I could see the shift in Vaughn’s face, even from where I was standing, the telling way his jaw ticked, just one time, his entire face remaining calm.

  “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.

  And he wasn’t going to. He was going to let me burn for what he thought I’d done to him.

  I took a step from the window, turned around, and tried kicking the door open.

  I clawed at the wood, feeling my nails chipping, and knew I had absolutely no shot at getting out of this room on my own. How had I been so stupid? Why did I fling my arm out, trying to talk to Vaughn, a guy who’d made it clear he wanted to hurt me? What the hell was wrong with me?

  I grabbed the doorknob and pulled at it, propping one leg against the wall and using all of my strength. I was too shocked and full of adrenaline to cry. Then I heard something behind me. When I turned around, I saw the window was smashed, completely broken, and Vaughn was crawling inside. He’d climbed onto the roof, probably after calculating that it’d take him too much time to find the key underwater in the dark. Tiny pieces of glass clung to his shirt and flesh like fangirls. His left bicep had a tiny, open wound. I’d never met a god who bled so often.

  Wordlessly, he turned around and started kicking out the remainder of the window glass so we wouldn’t get cut on our way down. The fire was gaining speed and body. I saw the tips of orange flames dancing at my eye level on the second floor.

  More sirens—this time firefighters—rang in the air, deafening me. The sound of heavy wood splitting suggested the front door had been kicked in. The cops were downstairs.

  “Won’t they see us?” I asked.

  He didn’t turn around to look at me. Just nudged the last piece of glass aside to make the window a perfectly glassless hole.

  “I’m going down first, and then you’ll jump into my arms.”

  “You can’t catch me,” I told his back.

  Vaughn was bigger than me, but he wasn’t the Hulk. Jumping into the pool made more sense, although I’d have to take a leap and hope not to hit the deck. Bloody hell, hoping to be saved at the last minute by a flying unicorn was more likely.

  He turned around to me, seething. “You do it my way, or you burn to death. I really don’t care. This is a one-minute offer. I’m not fucking up my life to save yours, Good Girl.”

  Vaughn slipped out the window without glancing back at me. I realized it was still more than I could have hoped for. Everybody else had run away. Poppy probably forgot I was even in the house.

  I ran to the window and watched Vaughn climbing down the roof, then taking a leap to the patio. He walked backward, watching me with his calm, dead eyes, and waited for me to jump. I held the window frame, shaking all over. There was not even one bone in my body that wanted to do this. I tried to tell myself he was going to catch me, that he wasn’t just saying that to let me die. He wouldn’t go through the effort of climbing up just to watch me plunge to my death.

  “I didn’t tell them your secret.” My fingers dug into the wood of the window frame, the splinters cutting through my skin like little blades. The police officers were raiding the second floor, I could tell. I could hear them. They were going to find the attic, and then me. “Tell me you believe me, and I’ll jump.”

  “What difference does it make?” He bared his fangs, staring at me with forced boredom.

  The fire spread, licking at the grass and approaching us with surprising speed, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. We were already dangerously close to getting caught.

  “Because it’s the truth,” I screamed.

  Our eyes met in the dark and held for a moment.

  “I don’t believe you, but I’ll still catch you,” he said. “I will always catch you, the fucking dumbass that I am.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You soften me
.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want to fucking kill you! You’re too fun to fuck with. Now Get. The. Hell. Down.”

  I jumped with my eyes shut, not expecting it to work, but Vaughn defied gravity and somehow caught me honeymoon-style, while still managing not to fall back. It was like my bum knew exactly how to land in his palm, my back braced against his other hand. In one smooth, continuous movement, he ran to the back of my house, ignoring the fire at his feet, keeping me closely pressed to his chest.

  He shoved me behind the bushes, then joined me, taking shelter and hiding. The cold, moist earth was a welcome relief from the dancing flames, and I shuddered with pleasure as I took a clean breath—just in time for the firefighters to start yelling among themselves and turning on their hoses.

  We watched them from behind the grand bushes.

  We’re safe, I thought. He saved me.

  Yet I couldn’t thank him. Not after what he did with Arabella. Not after he called me a liar. Not after he’d humiliated me so many times in front of the people I hated.

  I’d dreamed of piercing his heart with a spiked sword, and this act of kindness, of heroism, only made things worse somehow.

  “Why did you even care? You said your father owns the police.”

  “I’d walk away unscathed. You, on the other hand…” he trailed off, watching the firemen roam my backyard.

  “And you care because…?”

  He turned around to look at me. “I’m not done fucking with you.”

  I wish you wouldn’t come to England.

  For a moment I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud, that it had slipped past my lips, bitter and full of menace. I had a violent need to hurt him back. To get even. Then to save him, too. To be his equal. A god and a mortal, defying all odds.

  “Wait till I get there, GG. You’ll wish I were dead.”