Page 129 of Saint

Declan shakes his head, raking his fingers through his hair. “Whatever you say.”

I turn and hurry to the staircase before he can stop me. I don’t know if Kole is up here, but I’m not sure where else to look. And knowing the door to his room is wired to notify him if someone opens it brings me the slightesthint of comfort. As long as I can get inside, his phone should alert him of my presence.

Although, if that were the issue, my calls and texts should also have done the trick.

Picking up my pace, I try not to focus on that. Once I’m in his room, I’ll be safe. I can wait until he’s back, and we can figure out who is taunting me.

Rounding the corner, I hear footsteps behind me, but no one is there when I look over my shoulder.

The long hallway has a tall window at the end, and the shadow of a tree blowing in the wind dances in the moonlight.

Is Declan following me, or am I imagining things?

My mind is playing tricks on me. The house creaks and a branch taps the windowpane. But still, no one is there.

I carry on, hurrying ahead and make a quick turn down Kole’s hallway, breathing a sigh of relief that it’s empty. The only time I’ve been up here was with him, so I have to think twice about which door is the right one.

Third on the left?

Fourth?

I close my eyes and try to replay it.

It was definitely the fourth.

Reaching for the handle, my phone pings, and hope inflates in my chest.

It’s him. It has to be. Everything is going to be okay.

But as I turn the handle, heat surrounds me. A hand wraps around my body, and someone presses a white cloth over my nose and mouth. A faceless man pins me to the door, sandwiching me between him and the hardsurface. The Sigma House insignia stares me in the face as my vision blurs.

Blinking, I see the door. The sky. The forest.

I see Kole and Saint as I’m slipping away.

I scratch and claw. My phone rings—or maybe that’s my ears.

I struggle and I fight until I’m drawing blood. But it’s no use.

The drugs hit me, and it all fades.

41

Traitor

Violet

My head is throbbing.It hammers so deep in my skull that I don’t just hear it. Ifeelit. Thoughts fade in and out. Time fades in and out.

Ifade in and out.

Whatever drug is circulating through my system has my head spinning and my heart racing. Fear sends my stomach dropping like it did on that roller coaster when I was thirteen.

Mom took the weekend off work so we could spend time together. It was warm—the middle of summer. She hated everything about carnivals—from the long lines to the crowds—but she went for me. She squeezed my hand as she sat beside me on the roller coaster, and I waited with each click as it lifted us.

I waited to fall. To drop back to earth. To feel the rush of being alive, when every day I considered taking a razor to my wrists.

I was numb, and I needed to feel something—anything.

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