Page 4 of The Vipers' Vow

I glare at him. “Fun? How is that fun? It’s assault. It’s no wonder you’ve almost pushed me to the edge.”

His expression changes, and he rakes his hand through his hair. “Fuck, Vani. I never meant for it to hurt you like that.”

“Well, it did. There was a moment when I was standing on the edge of the tower when I wondered if it would be easier just to fall.”

He shakes his head, his eyes filled with fear. “No, Vani. God, no. Never say that. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He clutches the staircase railing, and suddenly it’s as though he’s struggling to breathe. “I would be nothing without you. Nothing. I only ever wanted to be close to you.”

I wasn’t expecting to see this reaction from him, but I’m still fighting to let down my guard. “Is that why you snuck into my room while I was sleeping?”

“I just didn’t want you to be alone. I didn’t want to be alone either. I wanted to make sure you were safe. I liked that we got to spend that time together.” He seems to pull himself back together and gestures at Zane. “I mean, I know I am sharing you with my brother and friend, but you must understand that I wanted some time when it was just us.”

I blink at him.Must understand? He did not just say that to me. He actuallyisbat shit crazy. “Did you touch me while I was sleeping?”

He twists his lips. “Only a little, only enough to make you feel good. I’d never hurt you.”

I cover my face with my hands. “Jesus fucking Christ.” I don’t know how to feel about this. He is so messed up, but so am I, because a sick little part of me throbs at the transgressive thought of him needing me so much he’d do that.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asks.

His expression is pained. He reminds me of a little boy whose hand has been slapped by the nanny, or a puppy who got kicked when it tried to eat some scraps. It seems crazy to me that whatever moral code he works by doesn’t understand that sneaking into my room at night is wrong.

And if he’s willing to own up to sneaking into my room and touching me while I sleep, then surely, he’d also own up to sending those notes, and to putting all those fliers in the mail slots? What reason would he have for admitting to one and not the other? For the first time, I’m starting to wonder if he’s actually telling the truth. His moral compass is so fucked up, why even lie? And if he’s telling the truth about all of this, does it also mean they genuinely had nothing to do with how Reagan died?

My thoughts are a whirlwind of confusion.

But if they’re not responsible, who the hell is? Do I really have an enemy here that I have no clue about? What have I done for some stranger to hate me so much?

I drag my mind back to his insane question and stare at him.

“Yes, Saint. I want you to fucking stop. I don’t mind you being in the room with me while I sleep, but I want to know about it.”

Zane takes out his phone and his fingers fly across the screen. He holds it out for us to see. I think we need a fresh start. Suspecting each other of everything that’s happened hasn’t helped any of us. We’ve been looking in the wrong place for what’s been going wrong. Now Lex is missing.

“Do you think Jarl Olsen has taken him?” I ask.

He types again.What else is there to think? He wouldn’t leave without telling us where he was going. And if he was going to leave campus, he’d take his car, wouldn’t he?

His car. The one I fucked up.

“Is his car even still there?” I say.

Saint and Zane exchange a glance.

I bite my lower lip. “I think we should go and look.”

2

VANI

“Fucking hell, Vani.” Saint folds his arms across his chest. “You really did a number on his car.” He seems a little in awe of it, and yet again, he’s showing his screwed up morals, and that they don’t only apply to him.

We’re standing in front of Lex’s car, and Zane’s and Saint’s eyes are wide at the damage. The grooves to the paintwork, which I did with a garden fork one of the groundkeepers had left beside a bush, and the milk-covered interior.

The rain has eased off now—the downpour was heavy but short lived—and the storm seems to be passing too. Someone has shut off the sirens that alerted us to the breach in security, but I don’t know what action has been taken. I assume we’re going to have to speak to Nataniele or Domenic at some point soon, or just as soon as we figure out what our next move is. They might know something we don’t.

I feel horribly guilty about the mess. The car will be ruined by that rancid milk smell. I’d wanted to pay them back, to show them I wasn’t someone to be messed with, but perhaps I went overboard?

“Yeah, I know.” I’m still not going to apologize. I need them to get down on their knees and beg for forgiveness for what they did to me before that happens.

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