Page 59 of Envy

“That boy is crazy about you.”

I almost burst out laughing.If she only knew.“Why do you keep thinking that?”

“You should see the way he looks at you. When I asked if we could hang out, he wanted to murder me for taking you away.”

I shake my head. “You’re imagining things. We both saw who he was with, remember?”

Amy doesn’t look convinced. But deep down, neither am I.

Because something about what Luke said doesn’t add up. And now, Luke is dead. His body was carved with a message.

A LYING TONGUE IS A PERSON WHO SEEKS DEATH.

Was it Garret’s way of telling me Luke lied?

Or was it a warning meant for me?

Instead of Babylon, Amy decides we should go somewhere else.

We take an Uber across town to a dive bar near Ohio State. The place is smaller than Babylon but looks bigger from the outside. Inside, it’s evenly spaced out with a rustic, lived-in feel—mismatched tables and chairs, two pool tables, an area for darts, and a bar positioned at the center. The music isn’t bad either, probably because people pay to hear what they want.

“I thought we needed a change,” Amy says, sliding into a booth just asTimelessstarts drumming through the speakers.

I text Garret to let him know. I don’t bother sending the address—I know he’ll find me anyway. The tracker he has on my phone makes sure of that.

Except for the night I stayed in Amy’s dorm.

I have a feeling he knew, but he didn’t mention it. That’s the thing with Garret—he’s quiet. Unpredictable. I never know what he’s going to do or what his motives are.

The thought of Luke still lingers in my mind.

I should feel bad. I should feel remorse.

But when you’ve lived around death for as long as I have, when you’ve been surrounded by people who do nefarious things, a dead body isn’t shocking.

It’s a norm.

I’ve seen worse.

Amy stiffens suddenly, her eyes widening. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“Don’t look now, but that guy—Leo? He’s here. Right behind you. Playing darts.”

My spine stiffens.

Slowly, I turn over my shoulder.

Leo’s laughing with one of his friends, smiling as he bends to pick up a dart from the floor. His shirt clings to his broad chest, the words OHIO FOOTBALL printed across in bold white letters.

Our eyes connect.

Shit.

I whip back around, praying he didn’t notice me.

“Shit,” Amy mutters, lowering her head. “He’s coming this way.”

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