“You came to follow me around,” I accused, folding my arms over my chest. “Couldn’t you just stalk me electronically, like you used to? The bodyguard thing is getting a little… stifling.”
I moved away from him to the window by Clarin’s bed, folding myself against the wall and casting my eyes downward so that I wouldn’t have to see the reaction my words had caused. There were two men by the base of a pine tree in one of the courtyards below. One of them was turned toward the building entrance, his phone to his ear; the other stared straight back at me, his arms folded across his chest—mirroring my own pose. The Klovoda agents that Jayden sent to watch me were on a constant rotation, so I sometimes lost track of them, and I never grew to know any of them. I had given up trying to figure out how they always knew where I was. They always knew which window to peer into, which door to hover outside of. Maybe the messenger had trained them. Maybe he was holding stalking classes off-campus.
I was absorbed in my own thoughts for a moment—the memory of that night clawing at me, fighting to be given complete control over me, threatening to loosen an army of panic inside me. It would stretch me further, and that couldn’t happen. I was already at my limit.
I would snap.
I pushed away from the window, finding everyone watching me. My two friends, with concern; Quillan, with wariness; and Charles… damn, I had forgotten about him again.
“I… I’m going to…” Charles abruptly stood, his eyes wide on my face. He was blinking rapidly, and I knew that my reputation had caught up to me. He avoided looking at Quillan, even gave him a wide berth as he skirted past, and then he was escaping the room, the door swinging shut behind him.
“Good news, mouse,” Clarin sighed, flopping backwards to stare up at the roof, “I think a spare bed just opened up—now you don’t have to share with the creepy doll-collector, when you get sick of babysitting Tariq and decide to stay on campus with us.”
I turned away from them, something unpleasant seizing in the centre of my chest. My friends left me to my inner turmoil, but I felt Quillan move behind me.
“You can talk to me,” he appealed, his voice low.
“I’ve said everything I have to say.” I brushed past him and opened the door, glancing back to Poison and Clarin. “I’ll see you guys for class tomorrow.”
They nodded silently and I closed the door in Quillan’s face. It was petty, because I really did need a ride home and it was nice of him to think of me, but I wasn’t ready to talk. If I tried, I would only end up screaming. I was trying so hard to keep from thinking about the specifics of what had happened at the boat house—all while insisting to everyone that they couldn’t keep me locked-up forever, and that I had to do something to save Silas. I knew I had to save him. I had to… but I didn’t know how to, and I still couldn’t talk about everything that had happened. It had taken me a month to recover physically, but it seemed to be taking much longer for the wounds on my heart to scab over.
He caught up to me in the hallway, walking beside me silently as I made my way to his car… and then straight past his car.
“Dammit… Seph.” He caught my arm, halting my progress and dragging me back to the relative cover of his Porsche, where people couldn’t stare at us. “I’m sorry, alright? How many times do I have to say it? Do you think I like knowing that Weston has Silas? Do you think I can sleep at night any easier than you, knowing what’s being done to him?” He had started speaking in a level enough tone, but now he was almost shouting, his voice close to breaking and a wild desperation lighting in his eyes. “Silas would have handed himself over whether I helped him or not!”
He released me, turning away. His broad shoulders slumped forward and I felt the pain that burned in his chest.
“I’m sorry.” I touched his back, but he made no move to turn around again. “Miro… I… I shouldn’t be blaming you.”
“But I should never have let him,” Quillan continued to speak, as though suddenly unaware of my presence. “I should never have agreed to it.”
“Why did you?” How could you? I finally managed to voice the question that had been hanging over me for so long.