Page 37 of Cry Madness
I do like math, though. Numbers fascinate me, and that’s why I enjoy Ms. Winterberry’s International Finance class. Butpesky intrusive thoughts always come rushing back, even when I’m paying attention to other things.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t keep the voices in my head quiet.
I’m almost at Bremen Hall when Scarlett intercepts me. How one little person can demolish a person’s good mood is beyond me, but here I am, suddenly furious. “What do you want, Scar?”
“To say hello.”
“Fine, hello. Now, goodbye.”
I try to sidestep her, but she’s a wily one. The scrape of her red talon down the front of my shirt is like a nail skidding across a chalkboard. It sets my nerves on end. “Why the rush?”
Now? To get the hell away from you.
I shrug at her absurd question. “Dunno, Scar, probably because we’re at school, and I need to get to class.”
Correction, her touch isn’t nails on a chalkboard. It’s her fucking cackle that grates across my nerves. “As if you care about class,” she scoffs. “This is me you’re talking to, Maddox. You can pretend to other people, but not to me. We both know you’d rather be anywhere else than here.”
“Move,” I growl.
Pouting, she steps aside but slaps her hand on my chest when I go to storm off. The girl always wears Victorian-inspired outfits. Today’s…ensemble…is a dramatic red number that’s absolutely ridiculous. “I don’t understand why you dislike me when I’ve always been good to you.”
“Yeah, to me,” I spit. “To everyone else, you’re a bitch.”
Again, she trails that fucking finger down my chest. However, this time I surprise her by grabbing her wrist. She yanks out of my grasp. “You mean I’m a bitch to Alice?”
That name in her nasty mouth is gasoline poured on a fire. But I control the burn because she’s a woman. It’d be a differentstory if it were a man who menaced Wonderland. I’d have ended his reign of terror years ago. “Alice,” I confirm, adding, “Ivory, March, Adam, Bella, Cherry. Hell, you’re even a bitch to your mother, and that lady is a damn saint. Oh, yeah, and let’s not forget to add everyone else in Wonderland to the list. Did I leave anyone out?”
“You should thank me for holding you in higher regard than I do the rest of these losers in this miserable little town,” she hisses. “God only knows what might have befallen your precious Alice if you and I didn’t get along.”
See, now this is why I’m tempted to unravel her red curls and strangle her with them. “Are you threatening Alice? Because if you are, God only knows what will happen to you if that’s the case.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” she singsongs.
“Good, keep it that way.”
I walk away because if I don’t, I’m afraid I might give in to the urge to murder Roman’s daughter right here on campus, surrounded by witnesses.
“You don’t scare me,” Scarlett calls out.
“Yes, I do,” I retort, without breaking my stride.
“By the way, how is Alice doing? Dealing with that stalker must have been terrifying.” Scarlett’s shout stops me dead. It also draws the attention of the handful of students peppered around the green. “She did tell you, right? After all, you two are best friends.”
The fuck is she blabbering about?
I turn around to see her standing where I left her, hands on her hips and a vile grin lifting the corners of her mouth. “Oh, Alice didn’t tell you, did she? Oops, my wayward mouth is getting away from me again.” For a brief moment, I forget she’s a woman.Blinded by rage, all I want to do is slap that fucking sneer clean off her smug face. “Guess you don’t know your precious Alice had a full-blown stalker.”
“The fuck?” I race back to her, grab her by her shirt, and yank her in close. “What did you say?”
“Oh, you didn’t know.” She has the audacity to throw that fucking smirk at me. “Alice came home because her stalker scared her right out of Riverton.”
“Who told you this?”
I give her a punishing shake when she doesn’t answer, hard enough to knock those frizzy curls free. “Who, Scarlett?”
“Ow, Maddox! Fine.” She rolls her eyes, then tugs free, brushing her palm down her shirt to smooth the bunched material. “The art community is small. People talk. I listen. Instead of directing all that anger at me, you should ask yourself why Alice didn’t trust you enough to tell you about it herself.”
As if on cue, a violent clap of thunder rocks the air. Thick clouds have rolled in, blotting out the sun. Gloom blankets Briar Rose as I take a sharp turn, heading to the parking lot rather than Bremen Hall. I pull out my phone, and once I’m in the Dodge, I fire off a furious text to Alice.