Page 42 of Theirs to Ruin

I had to be in shock. Delusional. I’d thought I’d seen Ty on campus twice before already…This had to be a hallucination.

But he looked real. Even from a distance, I swore I felt the heat from his body. Saw the pulse beating in his neck. If I reached out, would my hand pass through him? Or would it meet solid flesh?

The moonlight cast a ghostly sheen over his wet skin, and every movement of his arms, every drop of water that slid down his jaw, was magnified in the silence surrounding us. His lips moved, muttering something I couldn't catch, maybe a curse, maybe a prayer, as he kept trying to resuscitate Ava.

That was when I saw the deeply etched scars that sliced through the left side of his face. I gasped.Hewas the sexy, scarred new student everyone had been talking about?

What had happened to him? Despite how much I hated him now, my heart still ached that he had experienced such pain. Abruptly, he stopped working on Ava and sat back on his haunches.

"Ty?" I croaked, my voice thick with emotion. "Is she—is she?—”

“She’s dead.”

Oh God. Poor Ava. Poor Kage. I curled into a ball, overwhelmed by pain. Grief. Guilt.

I hadn’t been able to save her.

I stared at her body before I finally tore my gaze away to look at Ty again. Even drenched and bearing those ugly scars, his features were so classically proportioned they reminded me of the statue I’d seen in Italy, The Genius of Victory, created by Antonio Canova. Amidst this darkness, this horror, his beauty was painful to look at.

He stood and turned to fully face me. That’s when I realized the scars weren’t the only thing that had changed about him. His eyes had always danced with passion and curiosity.

Now they were blank. Dead.

“What are you doing here?” I managed to force out.

When he said nothing, when he didn’t approach me, I got on my hands and knees and with agonizing slowness crawled toward Ava. I had to see her. I had to look into her eyes and tell her how sorry I was. I had almost reached her when Ty suddenly grabbed my arm and dragged me backward.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

I couldn’t tear my gaze away from Ava’s body. “I—I don’t know,” I sobbed. “But she’s just lying there. All alone.”

“She’s dead, Camille,” Ty said. “She can’t feel anything. And the last thing you should be doing is touching her.”

My gaze snapped up to him. “What do you mean?” Then I understood.

He was suggesting I could be blamed for her death even though I’d done everything I could to save her.

We heard voices in the distance. The rustling of trees.

Slowly Ty backed away from me. “Do us both a favor and forget you saw me.”

“No, Ty, wait!”

But he was already moving, disappearing into the darkness, leaving me with my anguish, confusion, and the haunting sight of Ava’s body.

Cold wind caressed my wet face, forcing me to curl inwards, seeking warmth. My clothes felt heavy and uncomfortable against my skin, a chilling reminder of the weight of the river's grasp. Memories swirled inside my head—Ava, the gold bar, Ty...

The footsteps grew louder, and hushed murmurs of alarmed voices drew closer. I heard my name, and then Ava’s. Someone was looking for us.

I sighed. My eyelids grew heavy as I struggled to keep them open as the dim moonlight illuminated a dark silhouette coming from upstream. Pounding footsteps got louder. Closer.

“Camille!”

Dante came into view. The urgency in his movements was unmistakable as he raced toward me then crouched down, his features taut with concern. He laid a warm, gentle hand on my forehead. "Camille? Can you hear me?"

My response was weak, the barest hint of a nod.

More sounds, this time coming from downstream on the trail from the lake. Voices intermingling. Gasps. Murmurs. Then…

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