Page 51 of Vendetta

“Are you okay?” Bexley finally spoke, my heart racing further as I asked myself the same question. The mind was a powerful thing, ready to take control and pull you under if it felt like it even held the slightest chance.

But I wasn’t ready to drown. I had been controlled by the bully in my brain for so long, always shutting down the first chance I got. But not this time. I wasn’t sure what it was aboutCashton, but something about him had awoken the fight in me. All he had ever done was try to tear me down, but there had always been a challenge there as well.

I wanted to fight back. I wanted to wake up, to push through this steady stream of fog and emerge as something better. The monster in my mind was strong, but I was going to beat it, whatever it took. And it physically exerted me as I forced my breathing to slow, feeling Olivia and Bexley’s patience as I took back control.

“Stoneridge is having a bonfire tonight too, right?”

It came out calmer than I had anticipated, the words steady and sure.

“Yeah…” Olivia hesitantly replied, not seeming to gather the connection just yet. Bexley just watched silently, her hands moving to the steering wheel as she picked up what I was asking. Would they stop me? I hoped not. This needed to be done.

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So many emotions roared inside of me. I decided to latch on to the anger, the red-hot rage that I felt pounding through my bloodstream.

Olivia had easily gotten the address to the Stonefield bonfire through some of her contacts, coincidence that it took place the same night as ours. The public university was where most of my high school classmates ended up, not that I kept in contact with any. Because of my accident on New Year’s Eve, I had ended up in a medically induced coma for nearly two weeks, during which time not a single one of my supposed ‘friends’came to visit me. That hadn’t been why I cut them out of my life though. I had already cut ties right before I had called my mother to come pick me up.

I remembered Emory. I had known what they were doing was wrong, and I had even tried to step in and put a stop to it. But I hadn’t done enough. I should never have left her there with them, I should have insisted she ride home with me that night. But she had wanted to stay, and I hadn’t wanted to push. I had no idea what a drastic turn the night would take for her though, and I cursed myself for not helping prevent it.

I hadn’t known about her death until tonight though. I hadn’t gone back to school, opting to finish my senior year classes from home. When Cashton had dropped the bomb of truth earlier, I had almost thrown up. My stomach still felt sick, nausea churning at what Francesca and Savannah had done.

Bexley pulled into the dirt lot, easily having spotted the massive fire from a few exits down the highway. The party was already raging, by the looks of it, the lot filled with all types of vehicles.

As soon as she shifted in park, my hand raised to the door handle, both of them turning to me in question as I took in a deep breath.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Bexley asked.

“Yes,” I answered, the certainty of it holding me steady.

“Well, all right then. Let’s do this!” Olivia exclaimed, passing me a flask as I took down a quick shot of liquid courage.

My Doc Martens hit the ground, the smell of the fire greeting me instantly. I felt the cool chill of the night seeping through my sweater, but the fire in my veins kept me warm asadrenaline pumped through me. I scanned our surroundings before taking the lead, marching through the rows of vehicles until we entered a clearing filled with countless partygoers.

Olivia and Bexley followed behind me, keeping up as I made my way through the crowd surrounding the massive fire pit, Stonefield students splitting for us like butter as whistles and whispers met my ears over the horrible rap music blaring.

It didn’t take long to find the pair of my ex best friends—both in their college cheerleading uniforms—lounging with a group leaning back against Savannah’s white GT Mustang. Savannah was blonder than the last time I had seen her, her wavy bleach blonde extensions flipped over one shoulder as she offered some over-the-top fake laugh to the football player standing at her side.

Francesca hadn’t changed one bit, her dark brown hair slicked back into a high ponytail and her long, manicured nails clamped around some fruity seltzer as she pretended to listen to two of her fellow cheerleaders who all but bowed down at her feet.

Is this what I had looked like when I was friends with them? I guess the rose-colored glasses had finally come off. I had thought they were my friends. The thought was now nauseating.

Francesca spotted me first, a fake smile spreading across her face as she exclaimed “Oh my gosh, Landry!” before tentatively placing her drink behind her on the hood of the car.

At the sound of my name, Savannah turned my way as well, shooting a quick glance towards my friends behind me before scooting closer to Francesca and crossing her arms.

“What are you doing here, Lan? I thought you went to Ivybrook?” Savannah spoke, a smile on her face, but a bite in her words. They didn’t like me, and I knew that now.

They were probably confused as to why I showed up now after disappearing for the second half of my senior year. Not that either of them had cared to reach out or so much as check on me after my accident. Hell, I had checked my social media upon waking up to find that they had been living their life as if nothing had changed, posting from parties and football games the entire time I had been out without a single text or call from either of them. But that didn’t mean shit to me now.

That night with Emory? That was beyond messed up. And I knew that I would have to face my guilt later, about how I could have done more to get her out of there instead of just leaving her. It hadn’t crossed my mind that things would end up that extreme. But I guess you never imagine the worst will happen until it does. I should have done more, and I would be adding it onto the already full plate of everything I blamed myself for. But Savannah and Francesca didn’t deserve to get off scot-free from this.

I didn’t say a single word as I marched towards them, their eyes widening as they took in the determination evident on my face. They had never seen me this worked up, only ever having known the people-pleasing Landry that avoided confrontation at any cost. But not anymore.

Her bitchy attitude faltered as a look of fear briefly darted across her features, her hands un-crossing as she held them up in front of her. But she was too slow, and I didn’t so much as pause before cocking back my arm back and swinging my fist into the side of her face.

I heard the crowd going wild around us, the flashlights from phones recording us blooming all around as I threw my leg over and straddled her, grabbing her by the collar of her uniform.

“You left Emory Astor passed out drunk in the fucking bushes outside of her gate that night? After you personally got her blackout drunk?” I seethed, more of a statement than a question. Red blurred my vision as she started shaking underneath me, trying to keep face but failing miserably.

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