Page 42 of Endless Anger (Monsters Within #1)

LUCY

“Do you think it’s weird if a guy comes really quickly?”

Yuri looks over her anthropology textbook. Since they found Celeste, she’s been absorbed in her studies, rarely coming out of Blessed Hall to do anything. Even now, she’s only here because Aurora lured her in with the promise of homemade cupcakes, sent up by her mom, my aunt Lenny.

“What, like to see you before class or something?” Yuri asks.

Snorting, Aurora smooths her gloved fingers over the section of hair framing my face, rubbing red dye into the strands. “ Coming as in what they do when you make them feel really, really good.”

Her eyes find mine in the mirror, and she squints at me.

“I do think it’s weird you’re asking us this before a date though. Got big plans there, cousin?”

“Tag’s cute,” Yuri adds. “But I didn’t think you liked him like that.”

I’m not sure why I said anything, except that I can’t seem to stop thinking about the day in Asher’s dorm. How intoxicating it felt having him come completely undone, just from a few over-the-clothes thrusts of my hips.

I didn’t realize sex was so consuming. That being intimate with someone would feel like ripping open your chest to bare your soul and letting them put their hands all over it .

Not that I’ve never been curious. I kissed and dated girls and boys, tempted to go further but never really finding an opportunity.

It was all a ruse anyway. Not my bisexuality or the attraction I felt but because I was trying to distract myself from the belief that Asher didn’t want me back. The one person on the planet who I could see myself going all the way with wasn’t interested, and it sucked.

In college, there aren’t very many people I’d even consider getting that close to. Especially not after the whole thing at Lethe’s.

Still, I’d thought for sure my desire for Asher would have burned out by now. Imagine my surprise when I realize it’s the complete opposite, and I’m losing sleep over both the thought of my dead roommate and the outline of my former best friend’s cock under my pussy.

I swallow, rubbing my fingernails together and averting my gaze. “This isn’t a real date.”

“Then why are we all huddled in my room like it is?”

“You made me come here so you could do my hair.”

Yuri slams her book shut. “Can we circle back around to the original question and, more importantly, why it’s being asked?”

“No, let’s just forget I said anything.”

“Okay, then can we talk about the elephant in the room?” Aurora spins away, flopping down on the pink comforter tucked into her bed.

The dorms here in Rad Hall are so much nicer than the ones in Erebus and even have singles, which is what Aurora managed to snag.

Unlike Erebus, though, Rad Hall is a constant stream of parties, mostly thrown by non-organization members and lowerclassmen who don’t get invited to Curator gatherings.

Bass coming from a lower level makes the floor vibrate, and I lean toward the mirror, checking Aurora’s handiwork.

“What elephant?” Yuri asks, pulling her legs up in the bucket chair with her.

“The celestial shaped one?” Aurora gives her a look. “We haven’t talked at all about the fact that Lucy’s roommate was found murdered. Our friend. Isn’t that weird? ”

Unease sinks to the pit of my stomach. I swallow, my leg bouncing as memories pump through my brain, filtering into my vision.

I guess forgetting is too much to ask for.

“Should we be talking about it?” Yuri frowns. “I mean, it’s an ongoing investigation…”

“Yeah, but remember what you said about your texts being read on Celeste’s end, even days after the police say they suspect she was actually killed?

” Aurora fishes a bottle of hot pink nail polish from her nightstand and gives it a shake.

“Her phone was dead the night she went missing, which means someone would’ve had to charge it at some point. ”

“Maybe whoever…did that,” Yuri postulates, rubbing her chin, “kept her phone on?”

“Okay, but then why hasn’t anyone found it yet? The police should be able to locate it from GPS or whatever, right?”

“Well, you’d think the person would dump it once they realized…or maybe it died again. My texts have gone unanswered and unread for a while now. Since…”

I feel them look at me, their stares guarded and heavy.

My head swims, my suspicions mounting along with my fear of being found out.

Something is amiss at Avernia College, and it’s not just the corpses. The fact that the investigation barely even seems to be happening is shady on its own, but add in that, aside from my room, absolutely nothing on campus has changed or been blocked off? Not even the Primordial Forest?

Inhaling, I press on my kneecap, trying to get my leg to stop moving. Panic whispers at my throat, its fingertips ghosting over my skin with the smattering of things I’m keeping hidden.

If I have secrets, it wouldn’t be surprising that this school does too.

I should confess, tell them what I saw, even if it means getting into trouble.

Aurora sighs. “All I’m saying is this stuff doesn’t add up?—”

Shoving my chair back, I get to my feet, yanking the black graphic T-shirt I brought over my long-sleeved one and tucking both into my skirt.

“Uh, Lucy? What are you doing? We’ve still got to rinse your hair,” Aurora calls out as I bolt for the door.

I don’t answer though, because I’m panicking and not really sure how to make it stop.

Pressure mounts in my chest, bearing down like a thousand-pound anvil, and by the time I get to the downstairs lobby, I’m hyperventilating. Struggling to draw in my breaths, even as I rationalize that I’ve technically not done anything wrong and no one knows I was there that night.

No one except Asher and Foxe, that is.

But they won’t tell. The only one who has to live with the guilt is me, and if I could just figure out what happened with Celeste and who killed her and why, maybe my silence wouldn’t feel so suffocating.

Rain drenches me as I run across campus with nothing but the clothes on my back. The exercise helps calm my nerves a bit, but chaos still reigns in my veins.

Red dye drips down my chest with each step I take; I stop outside the revolving glass door at the entrance to the Obeliskos, wringing out the ends of my hair before making my way to the thirteenth floor.

Kicking open the girls’ bathroom door, I veer toward the back stall where all my stuff is stashed, crossing my fingers that nothing’s been disturbed.

Bending down, I unwrap a hand towel from my backpack, patting my face lightly, and then scream into the fabric.

The sound is muffled, but I’m sure if there really are ghosts in this building, they hear.

Failure and shame circulate through my nervous system, coagulating near my heart. God, I’m such a fuckup. Maybe I should drop?—

“Why are you keeping your shit where anyone can take off with it? ”

I jump at the sudden voice, whirling around to face the intruder.

Asher leans against the sinks, a hood pulled up over his head. His clothes are wet, his hair hanging limp against his forehead—just like it did in the forest that night.

His brown eyes, usually so warm and evocative, lack any emotion. He just stares at me blankly, his jaw squared, shoulders stiff.

“Are you stalking me or something?” I quip, hugging my bag to my chest.

“Yes. But I was here first.”

My mouth drops with his brazen admission, but when he turns, I see a tear in his black jacket, slicing all the way through to mangled flesh beneath. Blood drips from the wound, coating his clothes and hands.

Running a balled-up brown paper towel under the sink, he carefully rubs it against the site, letting out a shaky breath.

“What the hell happened to you?”

“Got caught on the fence leaving campus,” he deadpans, not bothering to look at me when he speaks. “Wrought iron’s a bitch.”

I drop my bag and walk over, peering closer at the cut. It’s a nasty gash, jagged and several layers of skin deep.

“The fence did this?”

“That’s what I said.”

Liar.

God, I can’t stand this man.

He chuckles when I tell him as much. “Are you afraid of a little blood, pup?”

“No, but I’m concerned you’re going to bleed out because you’re not treating this wound correctly.” Irritated, I snatch the towel and bat his hands away, pressing both of mine onto the laceration. “Your dad’s a doctor, for God’s sake.”

“It’s cute that you care—” Asher’s breath hitches, and he cuts off abruptly.

My eyebrows draw inward, knitting above my nose as I concentrate. “That hurt? ”

“Obviously.”

“Good.”

Blood quickly soaks through the paper, so Asher yanks some more from the dispenser, holding the new pieces out to me. I take them, not bothering to smooth anything before holding them to his side.

“Feels like we’re sixteen again,” he murmurs. “Do you remember the first time you cleaned blood off me?”

“We weren’t sixteen. We were six .”

“Ah, that’s right. You were trying to catch that feral dog, and when you couldn’t, you came to ask me for help.” His mouth twitches. “I had to get twelve stitches in my hand after it attacked me.”

“Well, I tried to tell you to approach it slowly, but you lack patience.”

“You’re one to talk.”

Swallowing, I ignore the comment and continue with my task.

He turns his head, and I feel him looking down at me. “You don’t miss it? Being young and carefree?”

I miss you. “What was carefree about being ostracized and neglected at school or during extracurricular activities?”

“You weren’t ostracized,” he says. “You had me.”

He doesn’t mention Aurora, or Foxe, or my siblings. Just himself.

My eyes burn. “And that was supposed to be enough?”

“It was for me.”

“Don’t, Asher. You can’t rewrite history when I was there. I wasn’t enough for you.” Emotion clogs my throat, and I withdraw to wet more towels. “That’s why I came and forged a path at college all on my own. Not because I wanted to, but because there was no other choice.”

“Does Aurora know how invisible she is to you?”