Page 25 of Endless Anger (Monsters Within #1)

ASHER

The dorms are outdated and stuffy. Despite their lavish, historically preserved exteriors, each hall feels like a time capsule, catapulting us back to when Avernia was first built.

Of the four main housing buildings, Erebus Hall is the worst offender and, of course, the place Lucy’s called home since she enrolled.

At one end of her floor is a private suite, and I slide a key from the back pocket of my pants, unlatching the lock and pushing the door open. My hand gropes the wall, searching for the switch as Foxe slips in behind us, kicking the door closed.

The light flicks on, casting a warm glow on the neat, unpacked room. Boxes are stacked on the desk and in front of the twin bed, while a welcome kit sits on top of the sole dresser next to the window.

Lucy wakes as soon as we’ve closed ourselves inside. As she stirs, I bend, slowly placing her feet on the ground and giving her a moment to gather herself.

She blinks, then quickly twists out of my grip. “I cannot believe you did that.”

“You were panicking.”

“ Rightfully so , you fucking asshole! Someone was murdered out there tonight. I think that’s a pretty valid thing to freak out over. ”

“Sure, but you having a panic attack when the killers are at large would have drawn unnecessary attention. Did you want to join your classmate?”

Scoffing, she crosses her arms over her perky little tits, turning her head from me. “This is”—her brows furrow as she pauses, eyes darting around the small space—“not my dorm room. Uh, this is the RA’s assignment. We can’t be in here.”

Snorting, Foxe grabs the first volume in a volleyball manga series from the top of one of the boxes, flopping down on the mattress as he flips open to a random page.

She gives him a dirty look, then narrows her eyes at the cover of the book. Slowly, her gaze slides to my face before slinking around the room again and then back to me.

“Okay, seriously. What the fuck is going on?”

I shove my phone into her hands. “Don’t you think you should email the dean or campus security? We need to report a crime after all.”

“That’s what I said.” She pauses. Swallows. “Answer my question, Asher.”

“Aw, Asher .” Foxe pouts from the bed. “What ever happened to pretty boy ? Do you not think he’s handsome anymore, Lulu?”

“Oh my God.” Whirling around, she chucks the phone at his head.

He drops the book, catching the device effortlessly.

Lucy seethes, gritting her teeth. “If you don’t tell me what you’re doing here, I’m going to report you for murder.”

Smothering a grin, I reach for the hem of my sweater, tugging it over my head. “Jeez, Luce. Can’t your new RA unpack before you start accusing him of horrible crimes?”

“My…” Her eyes widen, two endless pools of clear ocean. She studies my face, shaking her head. “No, that’s…impossible. You don’t go here.”

“As of this morning, I do.”

I’m not sure what I’m expecting to happen. Maybe for her to get angry or sad. It’s unlikely that she’ll hit me but not totally out of the realm of possibility, I suppose. In the three years since I saw her last, maybe her aversion to violence has changed.

She did almost assault Foxe after all.

I think she wanted to hit me in Lethe’s that night too.

What I don’t expect is for her eyelids to flutter or her forehead to break out in a sheen of sweat.

But when Keats shimmies his way out from behind a stack of boxes, reality seems to slam in on her at once.

She collapses before she can say anything more, and I dive forward, catching her so she doesn’t hit her head.

Her skin is warm and clammy to the touch. It must be the shock finally catching up. Or maybe the oxygen deprivation from my choke hold earlier.

I should probably call my dad to double-check.

One shoulder of her cardigan is falling off, so I push it over her arm to try and cool her down.

Cradling her unconscious form to my chest, I steel my jaw and guide us to the floor. Eyeing Foxe, I lift a brow. “You didn’t call the cops, right?”

“Do I look like an idiot?”

Turning my attention back to Lucy, I don’t reply. Instead, I slump against the wall, gently stretching her so she can comfortably put her head in my lap. She’ll bitch about the contact when she wakes, but whatever.

It’s the least she can do after ignoring all my calls and texts for years. As if I was the only one who broke our friendship into tiny pieces.

Fuck. No, that’s not true. The end of our relationship was a joint effort, but only one of us lit the match, and it wasn’t Lucy.

She wouldn’t have done that.

I should’ve never let her come here alone.

Sighing, I lean my head back, listening to the sound of her breathing. “Well, thanks for coming with. I know going out in public isn’t always the easiest thing for you to do.”

Foxe shrugs, lifting the book again to hide his face. Keats hops onto the bed, curling against his side and purring loudly. “Couldn’t let you hog Lulu like you did when we were kids. ”

I grunt. “Sure it has nothing to do with a certain blond who goes to school here?”

“Nope. Although you’ll probably want to call her and let her know you stole her cousin. She’ll come looking for her soon enough.”

He snaps the book shut, throwing it at his feet, and scrambles up from the bed. Traipsing to the door, he wrenches it open, checking the hall before stepping out into it.

His hand grips the frame, and he leans back in with a ridiculous grin that shows both rows of straight, white teeth. “By the way, I didn’t call the cops, but I definitely contacted someone on your behalf.”

Freezing as I push hair out of Lucy’s face, I look up, my heart hammering. “Who?”

“I called your dad.”

Lucy still hasn’t woken when students start returning from the party, completely unaware of the danger in their midst. When I get back from my shower, I watch through the square window on the far wall as they filter into the dorms across the yard, giggling and stumbling without a care in the world.

Idiots. Every single one of them.

Phantom sensations reverberate beneath my fingertips; I turn my hands over, seeing blood caked where I’ve scrubbed everything clean.

If Lucy knew what I’d been up to before I found her, she’d run for sure.

Now that I’ve got her back, I don’t want to risk that.

Eventually, I move her to my bed, telling Keats to keep her company as I kick my feet up in front of my desk, lean back in my chair, and call my father.

He answers on the first ring. “Asher.”

“Dad.”

“What was the one caveat we agreed on when you decided to leave Foxe’s tour and head up to New Hampshire?”

My chest deflates. “That I wouldn’t cause trouble. ”

His silence is fucking deafening. I clear my throat, and he finally speaks again. “And how is that going?”

“ I didn’t do anything. I’ve been a perfect angel all day.” I fold my hands in my lap, balancing the chair on its back two legs.

As far as he knows.

“So you didn’t harass Lucy Wolfe until she fainted from annoyance?”

“What the—how the hell do you know about that?”

He chuckles, the sound rich and dark. “I know everything. And Foxe is a tattletale.”

Duh. It’s a wonder Foxe is so popular, both as a private citizen and renowned musician, considering how much of a narc he’s always been. But I guess the Goody Two-Shoes act really works on some impressionable teenagers. And my parents.

If his mother weren’t my dad’s younger sister, I’m not sure we’d be close at all.

“When did he even have time to tell you?” I mutter.

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, you know,” Dad adds, glossing over my question. “Ignoring the one thing Lucy asked of you may not end as favorably as you think. I imagine she’s had a lot of time to reflect, and she’s not exactly known for letting go of grudges.”

My gaze swings to her on the bed, sleeping semi-peacefully. Should I have gotten her checked out at the campus clinic? That choke hold wasn’t particularly powerful, but now I’m wondering if she should still be unconscious.

Turning back around, I set my chair on the floor. “Are you really trying to lecture me on boundaries right now?”

“As your father, I feel uniquely qualified to do so. I do know a little bit about angry women, you know.”

“Yeah, Mom tells the story about how you two got together at every holiday party. It’s super fun and not at all concerning.”

And, I imagine, stories of betrayal and kidnapping are probably why we spend holidays at home, where everyone’s trauma can be contained to those who were directly impacted by it .

Theirs is the kind of trauma passed on to future generations, even when you spend almost three decades trying to reverse the effects. Not everything can be fixed, and sometimes the consequences are residual.

Sometimes the anger lingers.

“I’m just saying, she may not forgive you still. That’s something you’ll need to earn.”

An ache the size of the Grand Canyon cracks open in my chest. “I know.”

“Look.” Dad’s sigh filters over the line—that chest-deep exhale of relief and concern he’s perfected over the years. The man’s the master of I’m not mad, I’m disappointed. “You’re okay?”

I blink hard at the wall. “Yeah, I’m fine. All of us are.” For now .

“Then that’s all that matters.” He pauses. “You didn’t have anything to do with…”

My skin grows tight. “No, and I’m a little offended you’d ask that.”

“Well, you are my son after all. I know you.”

That makes something uncomfortable lengthen in my throat. I hate lying to him. “Right. Tell Mom I love her. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“Will do. Be good.” I snort, and he amends his demand. “Or good adjacent. Don’t cause more problems for your sister.”

“Yeah, yeah. Two Andersons on campus for the first time in years, and shit’s bound to hit the fan. Imagine what’ll happen when Noelle shows up too.”

“I did not raise the three of you to cause chaos at every turn.”

“No, you didn’t,” I agree, smirking to myself. “Mom did.”

We hang up, and I place my phone on the desk, a prickling sensation traveling slowly down my spine. It’s cool awareness, the feeling of being watched.

Without looking, I smother a grin. “Eavesdropping is rude, pup.”

From my peripheral vision, I see Lucy push the comforter away and sit up in my bed. She presses her palms into the mattress on either side of her thighs, breathing deep.

“What’s rude is your existence. ”

“Glad to see the mountain air hasn’t warped that silver tongue of yours.”

I spin all the way around, and her eyes are burning—blue flames that I know I shouldn’t stoke but can’t help wanting to anyway.

“So, what? You go here now? You’re an RA in my dorm? After the bullshit you said three years ago about how you had no interest in attending school with me.”

“Can’t a guy change his mind?”

“You rarely do.”

Hurt flashes in her gaze, dimming those flames in a way that makes my chest feel like it’s being crushed. But she quickly drops her eyes to the floor, glaring at her bare feet for a second before getting up to find her black Doc Martens in the corner.

“Where are you going?”

She bends down, slipping the shoes on. “Privileged information.”

“Oh?” I get up at the same time as she straightens, stalking toward her.

Unlike earlier, she’s not caught off guard, so she doesn’t cower or fold when I stop an inch away, so close I can almost taste her shampoo.

“We don’t speak for a few years, and suddenly I’m not important enough to warrant knowing your whereabouts? ”

“You gonna tell me what you were doing out in the woods? Or why you were covered in blood?”

My mouth snaps shut.

Her frown is insidious. It almost makes me smile. “Then that’s exactly what I’m saying. Thanks for helping me out, but I’m going to go report my roommate’s murder because it’s the right thing to do. Maybe I’ll file a restraining order while I’m there.”

“A piece of paper wouldn’t keep me from you,” I tell her, leaning in to finger the red hair brushing her face. “Besides, we’ve waited too long to report the incident. Anything you say now will look suspicious. You don’t want to get us in trouble, do you?”

She glares at me, then jerks back, ripping her hair from my hand.

“See, you haven’t changed a bit.” Pushing past me, she heads for the door, pausing just once as she grips the knob.

“Don’t contact me again. Avernia’s big enough that we don’t need to see each other, and I’m…

not interested in rekindling our friendship.

I’m not interested in anything when it comes to you, so leave me the fuck alone, pretty boy . ”

My mouth twists up when she leaves, slamming the door behind her.

Such a ridiculous notion, that I haven’t changed in three years. As if all that time I’ve been sitting in some sort of growth stalemate and not lamenting the fact that I didn’t go with her when we graduated.

I would have followed Lucy Wolfe to the ends of the goddamn earth.

I was just too chickenshit to admit it.

And now that I know better, I’m definitely not going anywhere.