Page 30 of Beneath the Surface

“What?” I asked Cruz.

“I don’t think it’s wise that you’re alone right now.”

Just as I opened my mouth to say that was some sexist bullshit, he kept going.

“None of us should be. I think it’s safest if we try to pair off as much as we can. Strength in numbers, you know?”

He had a point.

“Okay, I have to go to my sorority house before this blows up.”

“I’ll take you,” Grayson said as he jumped to his feet.

“No, you’ll make it worse.”

“Fine, princess, I’ll go.” Cruz winked at me.

“No offense, but you’re an outsider,” Micah told him. “I’ll go with her. Olivia’s been dying for some pics. Now I can get them out of the way.”

I waved bye to the boys and walked silently with Micah to my doom. Part of me wondered how long ago Livy had asked himfor those photos. Did he stop going to the house because we had drifted apart?

Without thinking about it, I took his hand, finding comfort in the person who was the most familiar to me. Micah didn’t turn to look at me, but his hold on mine got tighter, as if he didn’t want to let go of me either.

18

GRAYSON

“This wasn’t how I wanted to spend my evening.”

“Let me guess. You wanted to spend it with your dick inside Ava. Or is it Micah you want?” Cruz smirked at me, his dark eyes glinting beneath his lashes.

I bared my teeth at him, lifting my middle finger. “Fuck off. I’m not even gay.”

He laughed mockingly. “I didn’t say you were. Haven’t you heard of being bisexual?”

“I’m not that, either. Fuck you, Martinez. What’s your problem? You want Ava, is that it? You’re jealous that she’s interested in me? Or is it Micah you want? I hate to disappoint, but he’s straight, too.”

“Or so you think. I bet you think I am, too.”

My jaw fucking dropped. Cruz smirked even harder at my shock.Hewas bi? Or gay? I’d never heard any rumors, and— Whatever. It wasn’t important. Not at all. Straight, gay, bi, whatever…he was still a complete and utter wanker.

He tapped his fingers to his chin, that mocking smile still on his face. I wanted to punch it. “Micah’s cute. I wouldn’t mindcorrupting him. Ava’s hot as fuck. Who wouldn’t want her? But both of them together?—”

“Stop. Fuckingstop,” I said hoarsely. Images were assaulting my brain—images that had no right being there. Images that, even if they had been welcome, were coming at the most inconvenient time. My gaze dropped to the note, and dread hit me all over again, although I kept my face impassive. I wouldn’t allow Cruz fucking Martinez to see any of my vulnerabilities. We may be in this together, but it wasn’t out of choice, and I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.

“Why? Can’t you handle the truth? Can’t handle the thought of the three of us together without you?”

Stabbing my finger down on the table next to the note, the harsh jab making it flutter, I glared at him, so angry I was shaking. “Research. That’s the only thing we need to do. This might be a game to you, but it’s not to me. If you want out, get the fuck out.” My voice came out as a snarl, and it made his eyes widen.

“Okay, okay.” He held up his hands, but I barely paid him any attention, launching myself out of my seat for the second time in an hour and fleeing to the empty stacks where I could gather myself without the asshole’s presence. Resting my forehead against the wall, I breathed in and out deeply until I had my temper under control. Hockey players had a bit of a bad rep sometimes, with our propensity for violence. But that was only ever during the heat of the game, when riling up the other team was part and parcel of our gameplay, when tensions ran high, and the stakes were even higher. Off the ice, I wasn’t violent. Usually. Unless someone got under my skin—in this case, a certain so-called “bad boy” who liked to think the rules didn’t apply to him.

When I returned to my seat, Cruz was tapping at his phone, his brows pulled together in concentration. He didn’t even reactto my presence, and that was a relief. Carefully tucking the note away, I turned to a fresh page in my notebook, and then opened my internet browser. I searched for deaths, runaways, and disappearances state-wide around the time of the lake party. We had no idea who the person was. No clue about their age or gender or anything. All we had to go on was the fact we’d seen a pale hand coming out of the water. It was barely anything to go on, and as I stared at the sheer number of results that had come up in my search, my jaw clenched. We’d be here forever.

Except…we knew one thing. The person threatening us had a link with the body in the lake. They had to—otherwise, why would they threaten us? And they knew who we were. Knew my fucking locker. Which meant that they had to be connected to Blackwell Lake U, somehow.

If we could find a connection between one of the deceased or disappeared persons and our college, maybe we’d have somewhere to begin.

Slowly, painstakingly, I began to make a list in my notebook, bookmarking pages in my browser if I felt they might be relevant. I assumed Cruz was doing something similar, but I refused to ask him.

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