Page 3 of Die for You

“That was her, wasn’t it?”Behind their masks, Damien and Knox exchange glances.

Knox shrugs. “Not sure. I couldn’t get a good look at her face.”

That halo of pale blonde hair sure as hell looked like the same shade as our girl’s. The girl none of us has been able to get out of our heads since we saw her on campus last semester. We’ve been looking for her ever since. No luck.

But that voice wasn’t anything like I expected. Not the ethereal, soft, mousy voice of a shy, reserved girl trying to fold into herself. This voice was poisoned honey—sweet and warm with a razor-sharp, dangerous edge.

“Finn?” Damien nods at me. “You think it was her?”

I shake my head. “Wishful thinking.”

We’ve been seeing her everywhere, only for the girl to turn out to have the wrong nose, the wrong eyes, the wrong mouth, the wrong shade of blonde when you got up close. Who knows if our girl is even on campus anymore.

Gone before we ever got her. Before we even learned her name.

A high-pitched giggle rattles my eardrums. All too familiar.

I straighten. Shove the puck bunnies dancing together in front of me out of my way and ignore their protests. Push through the crowd, guided by that fucking laugh.

Find her with the latest recruit in his white mask with holes at the eyes and mouth. Ryder, a transfer student in his freshman year who’s already better than some of the seniors. Two of our four goals tonight were his.

I’d admire him if he wasn’t making Quinn laugh like that. Eyeing her up like she’s his next meal.

I squeeze his shoulder. Hard. He flinches. “Sister.”

His dark eyes flash as his gaze darts between me and Quinn, who scowls at me. “Didn’t know you had a sister,” he grumbles.

None of the Devils do. Quinn hates sports, so she’s never been to a game before. But now that it’s my last semester, she offered to attend at least one game, and eventually, the final game of the season.

Should’ve known better than to expose her to the Devils. Now, she’s sneaking into frat parties after I instructed her to go home.

“You don’t have to leave,” she protests when he steps back.

Ryder holds his hands up in surrender. Smart. “No-sisters rule. Sorry.”

As soon as he disappears into the throng of bodies, Quinn punches my arm. A little too hard for someone a mere five-foot-five with scarecrow arms. With her hands, Quinn signs,I wasn’t even flirting with him. I have a boyfriend.

Quinn is hard of hearing, and we learned sign language together when we were kids. Neither of our parents cared enough to learn, and it’s felt like our own secret language ever since. Her hearing aid helps, but in a crowded place like this with so many sounds overstimulating us, sign language is easiest.

Don’t care. He was flirting with you, and you shouldn’t be here. And you shouldn’t have a boyfriend.

Quinn rolls her eyes.I’m eighteen.

Call him up and invite him then.

No way, you’d scare the shit out of him.

Good.Wouldn’t hurt to let the little prick know not to mess with my sister. She’s been through enough shit in her life, and I’d crawl through hell before I let anyone hurt her again.

Can you take the mask off? I can’t take you seriously with that thing on.

No way. This is what the ladies are into.

Quinn’s dark eyes turn uncharacteristically serious.You can’t protect me from everything, you know. She’s gone. I’m safe now. You have to stop making your whole life about taking care of me and live yours.

I’ll never stop wishing I could protect Quinn from everything. I failed to protect her when we were kids, failed to protect her from the mother who was supposed to protect us. Even with our mother dead and buried, I’ll never stop being haunted by Quinn’s cries. Her shouts for me, the big brother who wanted nothing more than to protect her, save her, and couldn’t.

I don’t think so. How about I put you in a bubble instead?