Page 48 of Wicked Little Darling

I’d loved that face once. And then I’d forgotten it.

One of the first things I’d ever told Dakota was a lie; Ididknow who he was. I’d always known, the knowledge had always been there, lingering in some forsaken pocket of my mind.

He saved my life once. Had given me everything I’d needed at the time.

If I’d never seen his face, if our music teacher had never shown that video of him to the class, then I never would’ve started playing the violin.

The car accident never would’ve happened.

I blew out a harsh breath as I shut my phone off and set it down, then rubbed at my temples. The headache pulsing behind my eyes made me want to go back to my room and lie down, to just forget about the rest of the world and pretend nothing and no one existed.

As shocking as this revelation was—that Dakota wasthat boy—it honestly felt like I already knew. I’d known, somewhere in my bones. I’d recognized him on a soul-deep level, and maybe it wasn’t his personality that grated on me so much as his entire existence because it was a reminder of everything I’d lost andwhyI’d lost it.

None of this shoddy research had gotten rid my curiosity, though. Now I wanted to know more in a desperate kind of way that freaked me the fuck out.

It felt close to the point of obsession, and that…

“Fuck this,” I muttered, throwing my textbook into my backpack and leaving the library. I was here to study and play music, and that’s what I was going to do.

After my finalclass of the day, I decided to sit outside and read. The rain had stopped early in the afternoon, so I was able to find a near-dry stone bench sitting beneath an ancient oak tree. Its gnarled roots had broken through the ground beneath one of the bench’s legs, making me wonder just how old the bench was.

I got my book out and started to read.

When the natural light began to dim, my mind was a lot calmer than it had been earlier. I put my book down on the bench and watched the clouds turn pink and purple and orange as they drifted above me.

Sudden movement to the left of the building drew my attention.

Fuck.

It was Dakota, walking along the far side of the courtyard with some guy.

Dakota’s posture was tense, and I couldn’t see his face clearly from here, but his head was angled slightly down, his hair covering his eyes, shoulders hunched and raised. The other guy was taller and broader than him, standing very close to Dakota as they walked. He was in fencing gear, holding his mask under one arm, and when Dakota suddenly rounded on him and said something, he poked Dakota in the chest with an aggressive finger, then threw his head back and laughed.

What in the fuck was going on? Who was that?

I slowly closed my book and put it in my backpack, not wanting to draw their attention. I wanted to walk away and pray that Dakota didn’t see me, but when the other guy patted Dakota on the cheek twice—really hard—a flare of anger burst through my chest.

Who the fuck was this guy? And why was Dakota just letting him…do that?

Because he was. He was just standing there as the guy got in his face, his fists clenched at his sides.

I looked around to see if anyone else was nearby, but there was no one else back here. I’d purposely chosen a secluded area behind one of the buildings because no one seemed to come here.

I didn’t think Dakota or the other guy had seen me yet, so there was still time to sneak away.

But when the fencing guy’s posture became more aggressive, every muscle in my body tensed. My brain was screaming that things were about to get worse, and…

And I needed to do something.

I jumped to my feet and started walking toward them before fully thinking anything through.

“Hey!” I shouted. Adrenaline pumped through my veins and my only thought was to stop whatever this was. I’d been bullied too many fucking times to just stand by and watch while someone got hurt.

They both turned toward me, and my heart skipped a beat as recognition hit me.

Oh, shit. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

That was fucking Everett.