Page 22 of Wicked Waters

“Yeah. I’ll do the same,” Tristan agreed. “I dunno about the whole spiking thing, but it was way out of character for you. You’re an asshole, and you get yourself into shit a lot?—”

“A whole fucking lot,” Knox added, and I glared at them both.

Tristan continued. “But I don’t think you’d go that far. I know you have morals, even if you deny it, and you like Quinn too much for that. You want her, even now.”

I gritted my teeth. “I don’t fucking like or want her. She burned all her bridges with me.”

Knox swung his legs off the coffee table, shifting in his seat. His gaze flicked to Tristan, although he was addressing me. “You sure this wasn’t some kind of fucked-up revenge you were taking and your mind just blanked it out?”

“Fucking hell, I can’t believe you’re even asking me that.” I launched myself to my feet, too fucking pissed off to stay in this room with my “friends” for one second longer. “Fuck you both.”

Storming up the stairs, ignoring my protesting muscles, I exited the crypts, the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind me.

I was only vaguely aware of going to the room I shared with Tristan, stripping out of my clothes on autopilot and pulling on my Hatherley Hall swim team shorts. The shorts I hadn’t been able to bring myself to throw away, even though I’d been kicked off the team. I threw on waterproof clothes over the top, then helped myself to Tristan’s heavy raincoat. Grabbing my swim bag, which was already packed, I left everything else behind. I needed some fucking peace. I needed the silence that only being in the water could bring.

The rain lashed against my face as I left Hatherley Hall behind, but I barely even noticed its sting. When I reached the cover of the trees, I took a second to catch my breath before making my way down to the lakeshore.

I wasted no time in stripping down, and then, taking note of the weather, I jogged back to the tree line to leave everything under the shelter of thick, heavy branches. That done, I ran for the lake, diving off the edge of the jetty, submerged in seconds.

The swirling, angry clouds unleashing their vengeance disappeared in the stillness of the deep centre of the lake. Everything around me was dark, the visibility almost non-existent, but I knew this lake well, and I finally felt at peace.

I cut through the water with ease, the methodical strokes calming my mind, and with that calm came a sense of complete fucking clarity.

My cousin’s intuition had been right. I hadn’t been blackout drunk. It didn’t fit. If I had been drinking, I would’ve at least remembered part of the night after those few scrambled moments after my return to the lighthouse.

But after that first drink, I drew a blank. There was no one with the motivation to spike my drink. I was one of the fucking gods of Hatherley Hall. Who would even dare to do that to me?

I swam until my lungs felt as if they were going to burst, and then I emerged from the lake, gulping in air and rainwater while thunder rumbled overhead.

Fuck. Thunder. I needed to leave the lake before lightning struck. I loved the water, but I didn’t have a death wish. Swimming to the edge of the jetty, I gripped the wooden boards, slippery from the rain, and pulled myself out of the lake. Water sluiced from my body, my hair plastered to my head as I stood there, drenched from head to toe.

It was refreshing. Cleansing. Exactly what I fucking needed.

I took a step towards the shore, the weathered boards creaking underfoot, but stopped dead when I saw the small, huddled figure covered by a huge raincoat standing at the far end of the jetty.

I ran. My feet slipped on the slick surface, but somehow, I kept my balance, reaching Quinn in seconds.

My arms wrapped around her shivering body, pulling her into me. She beat her wrists against my chest, screaming into the wind and rain, and I didn’t try to stop her, but I didn’t let her go.

Her struggles eventually ceased, and she slumped against me. “I hate you so much,” she cried, her tears hot against the chilled skin of my collarbone. “You ruined everything. I can’t go anywhere without being reminded of you.”

“I know,” I murmured, pushing back her hood enough that I could kiss the top of her head.

She trembled, and whether it was in anger or from the cold, I wasn’t sure, but I wrapped my arms more tightly around her.

Her head lifted, and the devastation and utter betrayal on her face made me fucking choke on the sudden lump in my throat. “You left me there. Why did you leave me, Roman? Why? How could you be so fucking cruel?”

“I-I didn’t know. I was going to come back for you, I promise. I left to get help.”

“But you didn’t. You left me,” she sobbed. “I’ll never forgive you. Never.”

My jaw clenched. I fucking hated myself in that moment. “I’ll never forgive me, either.”

“Roman.” Her arms went around my neck, and suddenly, we were kissing, and I never fucking wanted it to end.

13

QUINN

---