Page 407 of Tis the Season to be Bullied

“You don’t remember anything?”

The contempt in his voice sends a shiver through me. That look is so terrifying that I immediately force away whatever memories try to surface.

“Better that way,” Jude growls.

Glimpses of familiar wallpaper, a painting, stairs paint an impression of the Dearth Manor. But I’m still reeling from thefact that I’m in Jude’s arms, that he’s being...well, not exactlynicebut civil.

It’s a welcome change.

But I don’t understand what’s changed until I realize we’re stepping into my bedroom. Because then, when I try to struggle, I realize I don’t just feelweird.I’m incapacitated. Paralyzed.

Completely, utterly, at Jude’s mercy.

My first thought is that he did something. That he fed me something, drugged me?—

Sean. The joint.Crack.

I should be freaking out right now, but I guess whatever those football jocks gave me made it impossible for me to feel anything.Jude lays me down on my bed, but he doesn’t move away. My heart sits in my chest like a dead thing, not even bothering to beat faster, despite the fear burrowing into my mind.

“Let go,” Jude murmurs.

That’s when I realize I’m holding onto Jude’s arm. I try to stop, but I can’t control my muscles. Jude gently peels my fingers off his skin, but as soon as I’m free, my hand twists and grabs hold of him again.

“Harper—”

“I’m scared.” It’s not a lie, despite my lackluster performance. I don’t know if the drugs have fully kicked in yet, I don’t know how bad it’ll get, and I have no fucking clue how long this horrible high is going to last.

What if I stop breathing? What if I choke on my own puke?

“Please.”

Jude’s sculpted jaw bunches, his black eyes narrowing as he scans my face, searching for lies. But a glimmer of my hidden terror must show because, after a quick glance at the door, he shakes me off and heads over to it. He gently pushes it closed,pauses with his one hand flat on the wood, the other still curled around the handle, and then locks it.

I snuck out just after ten. I don’t know how long I was at Sean’s house, but I’m guessing everyone’s already gone to bed. How else could Jude have snuck me back inside without our parents seeing?

When he turns to face me, I only get a glimpse of his face before he reaches over and turns off the light.Now I don’t know what frightens me more—the implacable look on his face or the drugs rushing through my system.I can’t do anything but wait for him to come closer. When the mattress shifts under his weight, the urge to move away from him is so intense that my body starts shaking.

Maybe his eyes have already adjusted to the dark, or maybe he’s just going on feel because he slides a hand under my neck and draws me against his warm body.

“Shh,” Jude murmurs, his lips brushing the top of my head. “You’re safe now.”

It makes no sense. There’s no way I could possibly believe him. Not after what he did to me by the bleachers. Not after all the hateful looks and derisive comments he’s sent my way.But things are different now. We’re trapped in a private hell, one we don’t dare tell anyone about. There is no one else to comfort us, no one else to bear our guilt or our shame.

Jude holds me in his arms, calm, silent, comforting, while we wait for the drugs to wear off. Not saying a word. His body barely moving.

But his heart pounds strong and slow, visceral in its vitality. I anchor to that sound, to that vibration. I let it fill me and pull me out of my terror. Suddenly all the things he did to me no longer matter. Because I have never felt this safe. This...treasured.

But this aberration could never last. And it doesn’t.

I nod off just before dawn, still wrapped in Jude’s arms. But when my mother’s faint laugh somewhere in the house wakes me, bright sunlight is shining through the chinks in the curtains, and Jude is gone.

I’ve never felt this lonely in my life.

Chapter 25

Jude

The doorbell rings, again. It goes unanswered…again. I put down my battered copy ofThe Scarlet Letterand wait. Dad and Diana are both at work but Harper and Rosie are both here, and shouldbothbe capable of answering the fucking door.

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