Page 87 of The Cruelty of Thorns

“That’s him, right?” he asked.

“Yeah. So?”

“So, he’s the guy.”

“What guy?”

He leaned closer, lowering his voice. “The guy who was in my room that night. The guy who attacked me.” He swallowed, his eyes avoiding mine. “The guy who…raped me.”

I didn’t know what to say. My first reaction was to call him a liar, but then I saw the look in his eyes. They were haunted. I recognized that look. It’s the same one I saw in the mirror every day for a year after Poe died.

“How…how can you be sure? It was dark, right? It could have been a dream.”

“It could’ve been, but it wasn’t. Yeah, I was asleep at first and it felt like a dream, but then I woke up, and…and he was there. His face was right in front of me, Myra. As close as I am to you. I’m not lying.”

I felt like the ground was spinning under my feet. There had to be a mistake. Maybe Ron had seen his attacker and in his mind mixed him up with the drawing he’d seen in my notebook. That was the only logical explanation. Because the other one was too awful to contemplate.

“I have to go,” I said, shoving the notebook back in my backpack and hefting it up on my shoulder. I turned to walk away from him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know. To my room. I have to…I have to think.”

I shook away from him and ran the rest of the way across the quad and up the stairs to my room. Luckily Kristin wasn’t there when I arrived. I tossed the backpack on my bed and started to pace, trying to stave off the panic that had gripped my heart.

This wasn’t happening. There had to be some logical explanation. Maybe it was just somebody who looked like Julianus. Ron said it himself, it was dark, he was barely awake. It would be easy to mistake someone under those conditions.

The more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that’s what had happened.

But I had to be sure.

Julianus said he would meet me here tonight, but I couldn’t wait until then.

I had to see him now.

♦ ♦ ♦

I don’t know how I became so turned around. I was sure this was the street Julianus had taken me down the night we went to his house, but everything looked different. It didn’t help that it had gotten dark, causing panic to add to my confusion. I tried first one street, then another, but nothing looked familiar. At this point I was ready to call it a night and head back to campus, but I couldn’t even find my way back out of the neighborhood.

“Need some help?”

I turned at the voice. The posh British accent didn’t go with the man I faced. He was dressed all in leather, lounging against a black motorcycle, his blond curly hair framing eyes the color of glaciers. He looked like a bad boy rock star.

“I think I’m lost,” I admitted cautiously. I didn’t know this man, but he seemed to be at home in this neighborhood. I hadn’t heard the motorcycle arrive, so maybe it had been parked at the house up the driveway.

“Who are you looking for?”

How could I answer that without sounding like a stalker? This was a nice neighborhood, and I clearly didn’t belong here. I didn’t even know Julianus’s address. “I doubt you would know him.”

He stood up and made his way toward me, his movements slow and catlike, and something about him set alarm bells off in my head. “Try me,” he purred, his voice seeming to surround me. “I know a lot of people around here.”

I took a step back. “The house on the hill? Do you know it?”

He smirked. “Ah, I should have known. You’re looking for Julianus.”

What did he mean he should have known? He stood right in front of me now, radiating danger. I took another step backward.

“You know Julianus?”

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