Page 7 of Boys Who Taint (Spine Ridge University #5)

Aspen

I drive my car downtown to where everything feels blurry and time begins to slow. The last time I was at Crescent Vale Cemetery, the entire world felt like it caved in on me. I swallow down the nerves as I stare at the gates after parking my car.

I never once would’ve thought to visit this cemetery … until Mavis died.

I clutch the steering wheel, staring at the fence like it’s my mortal enemy.

No. She didn’t die. She was killed.

Murdered.

Levi Torres wouldn’t admit it if it wasn’t the truth, and I’ll be damned if I let my feelings get in the way of the truth.

Levi Torres killed my sister.

And I desperately need to talk to her ghost.

Ghost

I chug down my drink and throw away the bottle without ever taking my eyes off the prize.

Aspen Caruso parks her car near the cemetery.

Her red hair flitters in the rearview mirror as she brushes away some fleeting tears and blinks a couple of times, and I wonder what thoughts she just blinked away. What kind of monstrous, murderous fantasies fluttered into her mind for just a single moment?

How much fire can one body handle before it’s bound to set everything in the vicinity ablaze with just a single match?

A smirk forms on my face at the thought.

Perhaps I should pay my respects soon as well.

After all, the dead are watching us.

Aspen

I get out of the car and shut the door, letting the cold breeze of early spring into my bones so I don’t have to feel my body as I walk toward the gates.

Every step across the pebbled path feels lighter and lighter, like I’m being drawn inside by the longing for a hug from the one person who understood me.

When I find her grave, my body feels ten times heavier, and I drop to my knees near her name.

Mavis Rivera. Beloved daughter. Sister. Taken too soon by the ghosts you sought to befriend.

God.

It hurts just to read those words.

I brush away the dirt and fallen leaves, but I can’t stop the tears from flowing.

“I miss you too much, Mavis,” I murmur. “You always knew what to do. What to say. How to live your life to the fullest without shame. Without guilt.”

I smile at her grave, hoping she can see me.

“Did you make new friends up there?” I ask, chuckling. “Finally meet the ghost you were trying to chat up through that Ouija board?”

I know I’m laughing, but I’m just trying not to let the grief and loneliness overwhelm me.

To not let the violent hatred for her killer take control.

“I could really use a ghost to haunt someone right now …” I mutter.

The pebbles a few graves down scratch against each other, and when I look up, someone’s there saying a prayer. A pale-looking guy, about the same age as me, with short eerily white locks of hair blocking the view of his square face. But that jawline …

“You lost someone too?” His sudden piercing blue eyes connect with mine, and I’m too stunned to even say a single word.

Those eyes are beyond gorgeous. Breathtakingly overpowering. His brows and eyelashes are as white as powdery snow, creating a stark contrast to his long black coat.

“Um … yeah,” I stutter, trying to gather my bearings. It’s almost as if … I know him. “I’m sorry, have we met somewhere?”

He smiles, his teeth as bright as his hair. “We just did,” he says before he looks back at the grave again.

I nod a few times, and look at Mavis’s grave too, but I can’t help but wonder who he is. What kind of story does he have that brought him here, just like mine?

“Who’s that?” I ask, too curious not to.

He briefly glances at me. “My parents.”

Oh.

He brushes down their tombstone so no fallen leaves block the names, and I can finally see what’s written on there.

“Pete and Dahlia Westbrook,” I mutter.

“They loved each other so much that they couldn’t even be separated in death,” he says.

“Romantic,” I say.

“Yeah.” He sniffles.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so nosy.” I quickly turn away again so I can focus on wishing away all the memories of Mavis’s death.

“Mavis Rivera … She your family?”

The stranger stands behind me now, his height casting a shadow on her grave. “She’s my sister.” I suck in a breath. “I lost her a couple of weeks ago.”

He gazes at me intently. “I guess life’s cruel like that. People you think will be with you forever suddenly never speak to you again. It’s as if they’re just … out of reach.”

His words move something inside me.

I look up at him, and he holds out his hand. “Grey Westbrook. Nice to meet you.”

His comforting smile makes me feel at ease, so I hold out my hand. “Aspen Caruso.”

“Caruso?” His eyes narrow as they switch back and forth between the grave and me.

“Oh, yeah, she is— was my half sister.” I clear my throat.

Here it comes.

The I’m sorry for your loss.

Those meaningless words I’ve heard over and over again. As if it absolves the listener of their misery. As if it can take away the guilt eating us alive.

“She sounds like she was a fun person to get to know.”

Oh.

Wow.

That’s a breath of fresh air.

I look up at Grey and smile. “Yeah. She was.” I shiver, suddenly feeling the warmth rush back into my skin. “She was killed.”

“Killed?” He frowns.

My fist balls as tears well up in my eyes, but I refuse to shed them and blink them away. “By the person I once thought was a friend.”

“I …” he mutters.

There I go, trauma dumping on a stranger.

I shiver. “Um, never mind. Sorry about that.”

“Are you cold?” Grey asks, immediately taking off his coat. “Here.”

He drapes his coat over my shoulders, the gentle caress of his smell making me blush.

“Thank you,” I mutter.

“You know what? Why don’t we grab some coffee? You can tell me all about your sister, and I’ll tell you all about my parents. How’s that sound?”

I don’t know this guy yet, but the smile that follows wins me over.

It’s been so long …

And his is the kind of smile that makes you want to learn how to smile again.

Maybe it’s about time I made new friends.

“That sounds nice.”

He holds out his hand. “C’mon. It’s on me.”

Grey

“So you’ve been on your own since you were seven?” she asks.

I shrug. “Well, my uncle took me into his home, but he was never really there. I was practically raised by the nannies.”

“That’s so sad.” She leans back in her chair with her coffee.

“It was fine.” I shrug. “I mean, at least my uncle is rich, thanks to his textile companies. But enough about me. Tell me more about you. What happened?”

She takes a deep breath. “I can’t believe someone I considered my best friend would kill someone.”

“Your half sister wasn’t just someone, though. She was your family. And he took that away from you,” I say.

She tears up but nods and brushes the tear away.

I’m already so invested in this story. I’ve seen it on camera, but hearing it play out scene by scene is something else entirely.

“I thought it wasn’t true until he admitted it out loud,” she says, clutching her coffee tightly. “Levi Torres. A killer.”

I take another sip of my coffee, listening intently, as if I don’t already know everything there is to know about her.

“Of course, the Torres men aren’t exactly known for their cool-headedness.”

“You know them?” she asks.

I shrug. “I go to Spine Ridge University too. I’ve seen them around.”

“Wow, really?” She raises her brows. “I didn’t know that.”

“I like to stick to myself,” I reply.

“I should’ve done the same, honestly.” She rolls her eyes. “Guess you can never trust your friends.”

A smile forms on my lips, meticulously placed, waiting for her to return the favor.

When she takes the bait, I respond. “You trusted him. And he betrayed you. It’s only natural that you’d be angry.”

I grab her hand and squeeze, and she doesn’t pull back.

“You’re allowed to be angry.”

Her face darkens. “I’m more than angry. If it’s true … if he really did murder her … I want him to pay.”

My lip twitches as I fight the urge to smile. “What’s stopping you from making him regret it?”

Her pupils dilate and relax within the blink of an eye.

“It won’t bring her back. It won’t fix this.”

I smile and glance at the loose strand of hair dangling next to her face, wondering if she can feel the ember slowly burning into a pyre deep within her. “No. But it’ll feel good. And you deserve revenge. So take it … Destroy his heart like he destroyed yours.”

She smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s about time I showed him how fiery I can be.”

Fuck. That’s it. That’s what I’m looking for.

I wink. “Atta girl. Now let’s finish our coffee before it gets cold.”