Page 43 of Scars of Anatomy

On My Way

“What?”

“Yeah, they were able to trace more surveillance footage around campus and track down who it was,” Brennen informs me.

“Was it Adrianna?” I ask, eager to find out if she’s bluffing or not.

“Not quite,” he says, voice hesitant. “I was talking to her at the front desk when the alarm went off. She came waltzing in with that guy from the hockey team who lives on the second floor and started talking to me as if we were long-lost friends. I thought it was odd, but I figured it was just some game she was trying to play to make him jealous or something. We talked for about five minutes until the alarm went off and everyone had to evacuate.”

“So wait, if it wasn’t her then who . . .” I trail off, racking my brain. Because my second guess would have been that she got the hockey player to pull it, but it seems as though he was with her the whole time she was talking to Brennen.

“You know that scrawny kid Olivia and Delilah hang out with?”

My blood runs cold, every muscle in my body tensing.

“They found out this morning that he pulled it,” he continues when I don’t say anything. “It took a while, but they finally pulled enough footage from the other security cameras around campus to catch him in one of the parking lots twenty minutes prior, talking to Adrianna with his hood down.

“It looks like they were working together, except he did most of the dirty work. They actually ran into the guy from the hockey team, and he was their way into the dorm. He used his key to get them inside, and then Adrianna dragged him over to the front desk, pulling both of us into a conversation so that nerdy kid could sneak behind the desk while I was distracted and go into the back room to steal the master key.”

“Fucking rat bastard,” I mutter, raking a hand harshly through my dark hair.

“From there he snuck back out and pulled the fire alarm. When almost everyone was out, cameras caught him using the key to get into your room for about three minutes, then carrying something out in his arms. Have you noticed anything missing?”

“My fucking hoodie,” I seethe. “The fucking asshole messed with my alarms, making me late for my final the next morning, and he gave that hoodie to Adrianna to make it look like I slept with her.”

All this time, all this fucking time, the little rat was right under my nose, and I didn’t even see it.

“Shit,” Brennen curses under his breath. “Well, campus security should be contacting you soon to see if you want to give a statement and possibly press charges.”

“The fuck I do,” I reply. There’s no way I’m letting him get away with this. I know he’s going to get into a lot of trouble with the school anyway, but he deserves everything coming to him and then some for not only fucking up my life, but messing with Olivia too.

“Hey, man, thanks for letting me know,” I say, feeling slightly guilty for dodging all his calls and snapping at him when I finally answered.

“No problem. I’ll keep you updated. Do—”

I hang up and run back to my bike, not wasting any time. I kick-start the engine and speed down the road, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I pull into Olivia’s driveway and run to her front door, knocking three times.

Mr. McCausland opens the door again, a smile on his face. “Pleasure to see you here again, Bronx. Let me guess, you’re here to see me,” he teases with a knowing grin.

I try my best to be polite and give him a laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound too forced or strangled. “Actually, sir, I’m here to see your daughter.”

His smile turns apologetic. “I’m sorry, Bronx, she’s not home right now. My best guess is that she’s either at Delilah’s or still at school.”

I refrain myself from muttering out a curse, and scratch at the light dusting of stubble on my jaw from not shaving for a couple of days. “All right, thank you, Mr. McCausland.” I slowly inch toward my bike, wanting to leave, and he gives me another knowing smile.

“I’ll let her know you stopped by again,” he says, bidding me goodbye, sensing I don’t have time for small talk.

“Thank you, sir,” I call over my shoulder, jogging to my bike and speeding off again.

I decide to swing by Delilah’s first to hopefully save me some time.

It’s in the opposite direction of campus, past Olivia’s house, so I head that way, praying I know which apartment complex it is.

I’ve never been to Delilah’s apartment, but from what I’ve gathered, it’s just a few minutes down the road from Olivia’s home.

I pull into the parking lot of the first apartment complex I see, knowing it’s one of the more popular apartment complexes among college students. If I remember correctly, Delilah said she lived here. Now if only I knew which apartment she lived in.

With nothing to lose, I walk into the office building at the front, where an older woman greets me unenthusiastically.

“May I help you?”

I throw her my most charming smile, leaning against her desk on my elbow. “Hi, ma’am. Do you by chance know what apartment number Delilah Harper is in?”

She looks at me skeptically, a scowl forming on her thin lips. “I’m not sure I can give you that information.”

“Please,” I beg, giving her my best puppy dog pout. “I’m actually her cousin from across state here to see her. We haven’t seen each other in forever and I’d love to surprise her,” I lie.

She looks at me long and hard, but eventually she huffs and starts typing on her computer. I suppress a triumphant grin, buzzing with impatience and nervousness.

“She’s apartment B11,” she tells me, as if it was a big chore.

“Thank you.”

I exit the office and run up the stairs two at a time to the second floor, muttering Delilah’s apartment number over and over again to myself until I find her door. I knock as calmly as I can, despite my heart slamming against my rib cage.

Delilah opens the door, looking at me with a distrusting scowl. “May I help you?” Her voice is cold, colder than the lady downstairs when she uttered the same words.

“Is she here?” I ask breathlessly, looking over her shoulder to see if I can spot Olivia perched somewhere in her living room or kitchen.

Delilah stands her ground, blocking the doorway, refusing to let me inside. She crosses her arms over her chest. “She’s not here.”

“Come on, Dee,” I beg.

She squares her shoulders, uncompromising. “She’s not here,” she insists. “You can even check the parking lot for her car.”

I look over my shoulder to scan the cars in the parking lot, not finding hers. I let out a low curse, turning around to see Delilah’s door closing in my face.

“Wait!” I plead, placing my palm on the wood to stop it from closing. “Do you know where she is?”

“I don’t think she wants to talk to you. And quite frankly, I don’t want to either.”

I grit my teeth, losing my patience. “Come on, Delilah. I would never do that to her! Adrianna and Rat Boy, they set me up.”

She looks at me skeptically, interest piqued. “What do you mean?” she asks slowly.

“Adrianna and Quinton,” I clarify. “They staged the whole thing! Brennen just called me, and they have surveillance footage of Quinton pulling the fire alarm and sneaking into my room. He messed with my alarms and stole my hoodie to give it to Adrianna.”

Delilah’s eyes widen, her demeanor completely flipping. “To make it look like you slept with her,” Delilah says under her breath, more so to herself. I see the gears turning in her head, watch as she puts all the pieces together. “Oh my god!” She gasps, covering her mouth with her hand. “Olivia!”

She spins around and sprints down the hall, presumably to her bedroom.

I step inside, not thinking she cares anymore if I come inside or not, no longer the enemy.

A short time later, Delilah reemerges, her phone pressed to her ear as she anxiously chews at her bottom lip, pacing back and forth across her small kitchen.

“Come on,” she mutters impatiently under her breath. “Liv?” She perks up, voice rushed and relieved.

Without thinking, I walk over to Delilah and take the phone from her, pressing it up to my own ear. “Olivia?”

“Bronx,” she says, her voice surprisingly breathless, desperate.

“Finch.” I close my eyes, soaking in the sound of her voice, relief washing over me. “Baby, I—”

“I know,” she cuts me off, tears in her voice. “I know. I just found out. Brennen told me.”

All the tightness in my chest evaporates and I feel like I can finally breathe easy again. “He did?” I ask, surprised.

“Yeah, he called me about thirty minutes ago. I’ve been trying to call you since then,” she informs me.

I furrow my brow, fishing my phone out of my back pocket to find it dead. After not charging it all night and all of Brennen’s previous calls and texts, I shouldn’t be surprised.

I curse under my breath. “I’m so sorry, my phone must have died. I’ve been everywhere looking for you.”

A choked laugh comes from the back of her throat through her tears. “I guess that’s why I’m talking to you on Delilah’s phone?” she asks with slight amusement.

“Yeah.” I unexpectedly laugh with her. “Your dad said you would either be here or at school. I stopped here first.”

“My dad?” she asks, the surprise evident in her voice.

I swallow thickly, nervous again. “Yeah, I stopped by your house again to see if you were home.”

There’s a pause before she replies, “I’m actually outside your dorm room. I thought you left for the break.” She whispers the last part.

I feel my heart squeeze in my chest, knowing we’ve been chasing after each other all along and that she thought I’d leave without resolving things.

“No, baby. No,” I assure her, wishing I was there right this second to hold her. “Stay right where you are, I’m on my way,” I promise.