Page 90 of Crossed

This fucking hurts.

She moves to the bed, pulls back the covers, slips beneath them, and hides herself from my view.

I stay long after her breathing evens out, a black hole festering in my solar plexus, spinning and spitting until an idea forms in my mind. Something that can clear her name.

She came to me first.

I back away from her room, glancing around before heading to the crumbling sidewalk and picking up the largest broken slab I can find. The flickering yellow light of the streetlamp casts just enough light, and I move around the corner toanotherwindow, one I assume is her roommate’s.

There’s a chance it’s Quinten’s, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.

I glance around one more time, just to make sure I’m alone, and then throw the concrete as hard as I can at the glass. It shatters immediately and is quickly followed by a loud scream. I rush away, hiding around the corner, but I don’t leave completely until I hear Amaya’s roommate yelling for her to call the cops.

Relief pours through me, and I hustle down the street and around the block, knowing I only have a few precious moments to get away.

Maybe I can’t come forward to clear Amaya’s name…but I can do this.

When I make it to the main square of Festivalé, the one that’s centered around Notre- Dame Cathedral, I make a sharp left turn, and I keep going until I’m out of Festivalé and on the back of a bus, headed to Coddington Heights to search out the depraved and the damned.

I’ll find a soul trapped by demons, and I’ll kill them the same way I killed Andrew Gleeson.

Because I just gave Amaya an alibi.

Chapter35

Amaya

QUINTEN SITS AT THE KITCHEN TABLE, DALIA across from us, both of them staring at me while I slurp off- brand Cinnamon Toast Crunch from my spoon.

I’m too busy zoning out to be of any use to anybody. None of us got much sleep; the person who threw a rock crashing into Dalia’s window at three in the morning ensured that today would put us in a zombie- like state.

Dalia has been freaked out ever since, even though I’ve tried to calm her down, and so did the cops who showed up shortly after to take a statement.

“There’s been a lot of burglaries in the neighborhood.”

“Probably just some kids.”

“We can file a report, but it won’t do much.”

None of that is why I can’t focus. Instead, it’s because I keep thinking about how Cade was finally at my window again last night and how instead of being grossed out, I was…comforted.

Like my world stopped spinning because his attention held me steady.

And how I think it may have beenhimwho broke the window, but I didn’t tell the cops.

I’m demented.

What kind of person is half in love with their stalker?

The same type of person who lets a priest pin her against a wall and fuck her with his fingers, I guess.

Snap out of it, Amaya.

Dalia clears her throat and narrows her eyes at me. She insisted I tell Quinten we’re moving this morning. He was freaked out after what happened last night, and it’s a good chance for me to spin it in our favor.

He’s acting aloof, but I know better than anyone how Quinten likes to internalize.Must be a family trait.Still, there’s nothing I want to do less than tell Quinten about Parker and me. I sigh, tapping my nails on top of the table. “Hey, Quin?” He doesn’t look up.

“Quin,” I repeat.