Be with Me (41 page)

After my last final, I trekked over to West Woods. Since I wasn’t planning on hanging around in Cam’s apartment during winter break all by myself like a total loser—instead I was going home to mommy and daddy like a total loser—there were still a few things I needed to get out of my dorm since I was planning on staying in Cam’s apartment next semester.

Even though Cam said he had no problem with me staying there, I needed to get a jobbie job and contribute something to the rent. And a job would help keep me distracted. Between not being able to dance, Deb’s death and Erik, and now Jase, I needed something to focus on bad until my brain and heart moved on.

That didn’t seem like it would happen anytime soon.

Cold wind chilled my cheeks, and the scent of snow was in the air as I crossed the lawn leading up to the dorms. My knee ached a little by the time I reached the lobby of Yost. With most kids already on their way home, the main room was pretty quiet with the exception of a few people lounging on the couches.

Digging out the key card from my backpack while I waited for the elevator, I tried to ignore the tightness between my shoulder blades. I hadn’t been back to the dorm since that horrible night. I didn’t want to go in our room, but I needed to get my stuff out and Cam would be over in an hour to load up his truck.

And I needed to act like a grown adult. There was nothing wrong with the dorm, and I seriously doubted the room was haunted. Bad vibes were expected, but I could spend the next however many minutes necessary to grab my remaining stuff.

Emboldened by my pep talk, I stepped into the elevator and rode it up to my floor. As I made it out to the hallway, my phone chirped, signaling that I had received a text. Thinking it was Calla or Cam, I pulled it out of the front pocket on my bag and nearly tripped.

Coming w/ Cam to help. Need to talk to u.

That was all the text from Jase said, but my heart was pounding and my stomach dipping as if the text had said much more than that. Like the text had read: I’m a fucking turd and I made a big mistake and I’ll love you a long time.

Except the text hadn’t said all that, but he
was
coming to help Cam. And that had to mean he’d gotten my brother’s permission and that
also
meant he had to have said something that made Cam agree. Which would’ve been hard considering I’d been a hot mess and that was partly his doing.

I stopped in front of my dorm suite, my pulse skyrocketing from the buzz of elation.
Don’t read into it,
I told myself. Just because he was coming over to help and he wanted to talk didn’t mean anything. And I also shouldn’t be as excited as I was. I reeked of desperation. Should I even tell him he could help? Part of me wanted to tell him no, but then I’d spend the rest of the night punching myself in the face. We did need to talk . . . and I wanted to talk to him.

My hand shook as I sent back a completely calm and unenthused
Ok.

His response was almost immediate, tripping up my heart.

See u soon.

Forcing out a breath I wasn’t holding, I slipped my phone back into my bag. With Cam present, this was sure to make the awkward hall of fame list, but there was no denying the jubilation building despite that pesky thing called common sense

I swiped my keycard and pushed thoughts of the upcoming visit from Jase out of my head as I opened the door to the suite and stepped inside, letting the door slide shut behind me.

My gaze crawled over the suite. Nothing looked different. One pillow was on the couch, the other was on the floor, under the coffee table. A musky smell lingered, a residue of the humid summer. The door to the suitemates’ room—to Steph—was most likely locked. Although she’d helped me out the night of Deb’s death, I hadn’t really seen her around, and I didn’t want to think of her, because when I did, I thought about how she used to hook up with Jase.

And that made me wonder if they were hooking up now.

A knot twisted in my stomach at that thought, and I cursed under my breath. I was literally my own worst enemy.

Dropping my bag on the couch, I swiped my card again and opened the bedroom door. I blinked as I sucked in a sharp breath. My heart kicked into overdrive. At first I thought the lack of sleep and stress was causing me to hallucinate. I didn’t believe what I was seeing. I blinked again, but nothing changed.

Erik sat on Debbie’s bed.

Twenty-eight

T
ingles skipped between my shoulder blades and then raced down my spine. Erik was in here. What was he doing in here? In his lap, he was holding something—a sweater. Understanding burgeoned. It was one of Debbie’s sweaters.

Gone was the stylish coiffed hair and clothing. Everything about Erik was messy and wrinkled. Dark bruises sunk his eyes in. Lines appeared around his lips like thin cracks in marble. Scruff covered his cheeks, telling me he hadn’t seen a razor in days.

Our eyes met and locked, sending a series of chills down my back. Something in his gaze punched a hole through my chest.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice flat.

I was too dumbfounded to question why he was asking me that. “I . . . I needed to get the rest of my things from my room.”

Erik looked around the dorm room slowly. All Debbie’s stuff had been removed. The bed was made, blankets folded over, but the pillow was flat, as if someone had been lying on it. The closet door was open, revealing what was left of my clothes and my books.

“You couldn’t stay in here?”

The accusation in his voice snapped me out of my stupor. My eyes swung back to his sharply. “No. I couldn’t. Could you?”

A muscle tensed in his jaw and a moment passed. “I couldn’t.” He slowly set her sweater beside him, his hand lingering on the wool before going to his knee. “But I’m here. So are you.”

My mouth and throat were dry as he continued to stare at me. Deep down I never believed that Debbie’s death was a simple suicide that no one would ever understand and I always believed that Erik had something to do with it. Either he’d pushed her to it or he’d done something to her and made it look like she’d killed herself. No one could ever explain the pink scarf and how it got on the door, especially since Erik claimed to not have been there.

In his stare, I could tell he knew exactly what I was thinking.

Breath catching, I took an uneasy step back. “Cam and Jase are coming over to help me. They’ll be here any minute.”

“I overheard your brother earlier. He’s got a final right now.” He took a slow, measured step forward. “Why would you say that when it’s not true?”

My heart thudded as my thoughts raced. “I thought he was coming over sooner than that. I got the time—”

He laughed a short, dark sound as he looked away, running a hand through his hair. “You didn’t get shit messed up.”

I drew in a deep breath as I took another step back, close to the open door. Screw getting my stuff. I didn’t want to be in the room with him a second longer. “I’ll just come back another—”

Erik shot forward so fast I didn’t see him move. One second he was standing by Deb’s bed and the next he was in front of me. A scream built in my throat, but it never escaped. He was on me before I could make a sound.

Smacking his hand down on my mouth, he twisted his arm, spinning me back from the door. A metallic taste filled my mouth as my lips smashed into my teeth. Off balance, my right leg gave out as he slammed his hand in the center of my back. I went down on my left side, catching myself with my hands at the same point I heard the door slam shut and lock.

I was stunned for a moment as I slowly lifted my head up. Strands of hair fell forward, obscuring my vision. The inside of my lips burned, and my brain had a hard time catching up with what just happened, but when it did, fear roared through me, coating my skin in ice and freezing my breath.

He wrapped his fingers around my ponytail, wrenching my head back. I yelped as heat spiked down my spine. “It was your fault.”

I grasped his hand, trying to leverage my weight as fire spread across my scalp. “What are—?”

“Don’t act like you have no idea.” He dragged me until I was perched on my knees. I shifted my weight onto my left, but the position
hurt
. “Debbie’s dead because of you.”

“You’re crazy.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop myself. “You’re fucking crazy. You killed—”

Erik let go of me so quickly that I fell back. His hand snaked out, striking me across the face and spinning my thoughts. I fell to the side, jaw stinging, and the room seemed to shift floor to ceiling. Tears of pain filled my eyes as I dragged in air. A burn raced across my face as I slowly opened my jaw. My brain couldn’t process any of this. How did I go from taking finals to this?

This couldn’t be real—could not be happening.

Every part of me froze up. It was too familiar. The way my lip ached, how numb my skin felt, the buzzing inside my head. I’d been here before, on the floor, head spinning from a hit I hadn’t seen coming.

Suddenly, it was like being sixteen all over again, cowering on the floor as Jeremy went into one of his rages over something so simple, so stupid. Helpless. Scared. Confused. Body and hands shaking.

“I’m not crazy, and it’s not my fault that Deb died.” Anger edged his voice, making it razor-sharp. “If you hadn’t said anything to her and minded your own goddamn business, she wouldn’t have broken up with me.”

“What?” Blood leaked out of the corner of my mouth. I wiped it away with a trembling hand and found myself staring at the horrifying smear of red.

Too familiar.

“When you asked her about the bruises! And then that fucking Sunday. You had to get involved.” He started toward me. “You just had to be standing there and get hurt. Like it was my fucking fault. It wasn’t! It was yours!”

Fury snapped at the heels of the rising fear, and I did something I’d never done with Jeremy, no matter how bad it got.

I wasn’t a victim anymore. I would never be the victim again.

“So typical.” I spat the words out. “You hit someone and it’s always
their
fault. Never yours.”

“Oh, shut up, you stupid gimpy bitch.”

Planting my hands on the floor, I ignored the dizziness that assaulted me. “I guess your fists just slip and fall on people’s faces?”

“Only those who deserve it.”

“Did Debbie deserve it?”

He cursed. “Don’t you dare talk about her. You don’t know shit.”

I lurched to my feet and staggered back, bumping into the bed. Lifting my head, I saw Erik advance through a haze of tears. I spun, reaching for the closest weapon. I grabbed the bedside lamp, ripping it from its plug, more than prepared to knock him upside the head so hard that it kicked him into the next dorm.

He swung at me, and I jumped back. The momentary loss of balance gave him a second to gain the upper hand. He snatched the lamp from my hand and tossed it across the room. It hit my clothes and then thudded off the wall. My heart stopped, and then I whirled toward the door.

Pain exploded along the back of my head, doubling me over. The walls tilted again, and I blinked to clear my vision, but it felt like it took hours to reopen my eyes. The next thing I knew I was on the floor, on my back in between the beds, staring dumbly at the ceiling.

Erik was pacing, his sneakers crunching over my hair. How had my hair come loose? My entire body throbbed like I was a giant bruise. I drew in a deep breath, and it hurt my ribs and back.

“You’re awake.” He stood over me, sneering. “I didn’t even hit you that hard.”

My head was full of cobwebs. I must’ve fallen and passed out, which meant I probably had a concussion.

And concussions were bad news, right?

Feeling like I’d been abruptly woken up, I slowly rose onto my elbows. For a second, I felt like I was swimming through mud.

“I wasted so much time. I should’ve . . .” He stopped, pressing his palms against his temples and then he started pacing again. “I didn’t mean to do it.”

What was he talking about? Forcing myself into a sitting position, I leaned against the bed, winded. He didn’t mean to do what?