Page 71 of Say It Slowly

Fear coils around me like the viper he warned me about at the Preference Ceremony. Every survival instinct I have screamsat me to move,now, and my legs start moving before my brain has a chance to catch up. Turning, I bolt out of the makeshift torture chamber, and into the gym.

I’m halfway up the staircase when I hear Roman call out to me. “Lux!Fuck.”

I don’t stop. I don’t turn around. But I can hear his footsteps right on my heels, closing in on me. His legs are longer than mine, so he catches up to me quickly, reaching out and pulling me against his hard chest. All of the breath whooshes from my lungs at the impact, and his arm comes around like an iron band, holding me against him.

“Lux,” he says harshly. “Calm the fuck down.”

Calm down?This guy is delusional, but I knew that already.

With the breath heaving from my lungs, I gather the strength to form the only question that’s bouncing around in my mind. “W-who is that in there?”

“Tyler,” he says gruffly. “He was dangerous, Lux. We did what had to be done.”

He’s talking about him in the past tense.

And yeah, Tyler is a shit person, but did he deserve todie?

I’m panting now, the emotions of what I just saw overtaking me. Roman pulls me tighter, his lips pressed against my ear. I twist my head away from him, but he reaches up and grabs my chin, forcing my head back. His hand smells like blood, that tinge of iron assaulting my nostrils. “Breathe, baby. It’s okay. He can’t hurt you now.”

Hecan’t hurt me? I’d laugh if I could because it’s not the dead guy I’m worried about. It’s the guy trapping me, completely consuming me that sends fear skipping down my spine.

I pull against him, but his grip on me is too tight, his arm wedging into my stomach painfully. “Let me go,” I say through gritted teeth.

He doesn’t say anything, he just holds me like that, pressed against him, his warm breath washing over the side of my face. Then, ever so slightly, his hold on me loosens, and that’s all I need. I yank myself out of his arms and twist, shoving my knee into his balls—hard.As hard as I can manage, considering we’re teetering on the edge of a single step.

“Fuck,” he grunts, bending to cup his balls.

With my heart threatening to burst out of my chest, I use the distraction to get away, climbing the rest of the way up the stairs to the door, and slamming it closed. There’s no lock on it, and I can already hear him in pursuit, each step heavy as he makes his way up the rickety staircase.

I don’t stop. I don’t consider my next steps, or what my options are. I just run out the back door and into the bright afternoon. The sun nearly blinds me, but I keep going, ignoring the pains in my legs, and the fact that my lungs feel like they’re going to burst.

I glance behind me periodically to make sure I’m not being followed. When I don’t see Roman behind me, I start to slow down so I can catch my breath. I feel like there’s a knife wedged between my ribcage, and it’s fucking painful.

I’m in the middle of campus when I finally stop running, and pull my phone out of my back pocket. Without even thinking, or second-guessing, I text Ash.

Hey. Where are you? Can we talk?

Fuck.My mind keeps landing on that image of Tyler, slumped and bloody in that chair. That scene was so shocking and so surreal, that even now, I’m struggling to wrap my head around what I saw.

My phone pings.

I’m at home. Come over.

The next text is his address, which I type into my phone. It’s only a few blocks away, and I think I can take the bus. I’d walk, but I don’t want to take the chance that Roman is out, patrolling the neighborhood for me.

I’m amazed he isn’t already blowing up my phone, actually. With a deep breath, I switch my phone off—something I hate doing with Bree still out there somewhere, but I don’t really have a choice. I just know Roman will be calling non-stop once he retrieves his balls from the back of his throat.

Ash’s house is only two bus stops from campus, and I stand in front of it, wondering if I have the right address. The front of the house is windowless and looks more like a modern art museum than an actual house. Tall white walls stretch up toward the bright blue sky, curving artistically at the top to resemble a boat sail.

The front door is off to the side, past a small koi pond with metal sculptures resembling the shape of the house, jutting up from the water. It’s beautiful.

With a deep breath, I walk up to the all-glass front door and ring the doorbell. The house is so polished and so artistic, I feel like I should have a ticket or a reservation or something.

An older man steps into the foyer, and up to the front door, and my heart jumps into my throat. I hadn’t even considered that this might be his family home, and maybe this is his dad? Why didn’t it occur to me that other people might be here? I’m such an idiot.

As soon as the door opens, I launch into my explanation for being here. “Oh, uh, hi, um, I’m here to see Ash?” I stammer, managing to make my statement sound more like a question. “Is he home, by chance?”

“Your name, please?”

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