Page 12 of Lethal Truths

My heels dig into the shiny linoleum floors and Creed turns to me with concern shining in his whiskey eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, surveying every face that passes us by.

“Nothing, I…” Words fail me, no matter how much I want to express the way he makes me feel lately. I think I surprise both of us by leaning up to kiss his cheek. Creed blinks down at me as his smile grows, and I can’t stop myself from returning the expression. “Thank you. With everything that’s happened recently, you’ve been my one constant. My anchor as I weather the storm. I appreciate it more than I can say,” I admit.

Creed cups my cheeks, leaning down for a proper kiss that has me breathless in seconds. “You’ve got it wrong, baby,” he whispers against my lips, nipping playfully. “I am the storm. And you’re in the center, the only one safe from my destruction.”

I study him out of the corner of my eye as we continue to walk and head into the busy cafeteria. He’s relaxed, happy at my side, and his fingers casually trace invisible patterns on my arm. “I’m okay with that. I’ve always liked storms,” I finally tell him, glad to have an immovable force at my side, even if he does leave destruction in his path.

I’m itching to crack his head wide open and dive in, see who the real Creed is beyond the labels thrown at him all his life and the persona he’s chosen to display. All in time, I tell myself. I’ve got a lot on my plate without rushing into a serious relationship.

Creed kisses my forehead before wandering off for the various food offerings around the edges of the room. I watch him go for a moment and then I turn to find an empty table. Or better yet, find wherever Annie is sitting. We haven’t had a chance to talk yet, and I can only imagine my absence has been worrying her. Mark left her alone and terrified. She needs a friend while she wades through the aftermath of their breakup and all the abusive shit he did to her.

I scan the large room twice, seeing loners working on homework, couples doing grossly adorable things, and probably half the college football team right in the middle with enough food amongst them to feed the entire city of Black Creek. But no Annie. Guilt twists my stomach as I picture her eating alone, somewhere noisy assholes can’t bother her.

I make a mental note to call her when I’m done eating, see how she’s doing and fill her in with all the gory details of my two-week vanishing act. I don’t trust a lot of people, but she’s one of the good ones. We can cry on each other’s shoulders about all the shit imploding in our lives.

Giving up on my search, I head to an empty table along the wall. One second, I’m mindlessly moving past students, my mind miles away, and the next, there’s a hand around my arm that yanks me back into a firm body.

My panic is immediate and all-consuming. I didn’t think my attackers would have the nerve to try again with so many witnesses. I was so horribly wrong. Even though my body still protests too much movement, I won’t go down without a fight.

I elbow the son of a bitch in the stomach as hard as I can, rejoicing in his grunt of pain. I spin around, planning on breaking the motherfucker’s nose next, until I see who grabbed me. Shit, maybe I will still break his nose.

Asher rubs his stomach, looking at me with a feral threat in his emerald eyes. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he seethes, stepping into my personal space.

A shudder rolls through me, hating the close contact when all I want is to slash and stab until his rotten heart falls out. I refuse to cower from him, though, so I match his glare and tip my chin up in defiance. “I thought we talked about not touching me?” I taunt sharply, grinning at the memory of kneeing his balls at that party.

He narrows his hard gaze. “I’ll touch you whenever and wherever I want. What else is a little pet good for?”

I tilt my head, showing off the bare skin of my neck as I trail a finger down it. “Mmm, see? No collar still. And I’m afraid I’m rabid. Touch me again and I’ll bite your dick off,” I warn.

There’s a moment, just a brief flicker of a second, where I swear Asher’s eyes flare with interest and his lips tick up into a barely perceptible smile. I blink and it’s gone, and I’m left wondering if I’m starting to see things. Maybe my mom’s illness is genetic, and I’m starting to snap, imagining up a world where Asher isn’t such a goddamn bully. Where his lips feel like fire on my skin, burning my flesh and leaving me a new woman.

Ugh, nope. I shove those thoughts away as violently as I can.

Ever the asshole, Asher wraps his big hand around my arm yet again, cutting me a sharp warning glare when I try to tug out of his hold. “I don’t know if those guys knocked you around a little too hard in that forest, or you’re just being obtuse, but let me remind you of some rules,” he starts as he drags me across the cafeteria, catching curious eyes as we go. “You sit with us. That’s nonnegotiable. So explain why you were headed halfway across the room, away from our usual table?”

I huff out an irritated curse when I nearly trip over my feet trying to keep up with him. “I don’t know why you care where I sit. You don’t even like me, and I hate to break it to you, buddy, but the feeling is more than mutual.”

“Because you’re mine to boss around,” he explains casually. “Until you get pinned into A.Chi.O. next month, you’re still my responsibility. And how can I make sure you’re being a good girl if I don’t have eyes on you? So do as I say—“

“Or you’ll have me kicked out of the school,” I finish for him, rolling my eyes. He’s becoming a broken fucking record with that threat, and the more he spews his shit at me, the less afraid of it I am. “Yeah, I get it. You’re the big bad around here, and I’m some worthless nobody that you get to push around for fun.”

Asher laughs, deep and throaty. “Something like that,” he muses as we stop at their usual table. “But isn’t it so fun, pet? I know I’ve been enjoying our time together.” With a dark smile, he shoves me forward, using his hand to push my shoulder down when I hesitate to sit.

Griffin is directly across from me, but he doesn’t show any sign that he’s even aware of my presence. He’s staring down at a book laid open on the table while popping grapes into his mouth, looking entirely at ease like me being here doesn’t make a damn difference. Good for him. Meanwhile, being this close to the guy who was quickly winning over my heart is tearing my chest wide open.

“Hey,” I say to him. I don’t know why I do, considering I’d rather not chat with Griffin. Ever. But sitting here and pretending he’s not around feels incredibly awkward. Either way, I wasted my breath because Griffin doesn’t so much as nod in greeting. “You guys are just buckets of fucking fun, aren’t you?” I mutter, wishing I could hide under the table. Or flip the damn thing over.

By the time Creed returns with not one, but two overflowing trays, wearing a sheepishly adorable fucking smile, I’ve lost my appetite completely.

8

Prudence

It’s been two days since I found that note in my backpack, and in truth, I’ve hardly had the time to think about it. Classes and playing catch up have kept Creed and I beyond busy, and it’s actually been fairly seemless slipping back into a routine. He’s insisted on me staying in his room for one more week while the last of my deep wounds finish healing. Not that it’s a hardship for me to feel safe beside him every night. Plus, apparently, I need to keep my eyes on him and he’ll take me to The Celestials. Whatever the hell that means.

I did feel guilty about leaving Annie on her own for another week, but when I finally checked in on her yesterday, she told me she’s been sick with a nasty flu and it’s better that I’ve been gone, though she has endless questions about my absence. We have plans for lunch in the next few days, just as soon as she can stomach a full meal. And then I’ll tell her all about my wild, horrifying Fright Night and the painful days after.

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