Page 118 of Wicked Ends
I checked my phone. Nothing. I’d called and texted him about twenty times and gotten no response. He didn’t want to talk to me. My attention strayed across the desk to my keys. My car keyand the Night Owl Motel were together on the same ring, as well as my key for the bus station locker.
As soon as my gaze fell on the key, I knew.
No. No. No.
I shot up and grabbed the keys, making for the door.
Ten minutes later, I was parking outside the bus station and running inside.
There was police tape around the locker area. My stomach dropped. An employee walked past, and I whirled on them, giving them a fright.
“What happened here?” I asked in a rush.
“Some insane person broke into one of the lockers late at night when no one was around.”
“You have him on CCTV?” I wondered, looking around.
The employee shook his head. “It’s always breaking.”
I stepped away, panic and devastation working up my throat. I headed for the doors and pushed out of the air-conditioned cool onto the rainy street, threw my head back, and screamed. I couldn’t hold it for one more second.
I screamed until my throat was raw. It didn’t last long, and in it was every single bit of fear, anger, and disappointment at how my new life had turned out. Luckily, the back alley behind the bus station was deserted, so no one had to witness my meltdown.
Dale had stolen Marcus’ money. Dale had obviously followed me, watched me to see where I was going to get the money from,and I couldn’t have made it easier, taking the bag out of the locker and then stowing it again. He’d taken Marcus’ money—and Cole had paid the price. Cole Bailey was in the hospital, and it was because of that bag.
No wonder he hated me. I hated me, too. Guilt hit me, so thick, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t stand it. Marcus clearly thought I’d given it to Dale willingly. Just the thought of that was too much to bear.
I got in my car and drove back to campus. The Hellions’ dorm was as busy as usual when I entered, going upstairs toward the apartment that I’d stayed in last week. It felt like a lifetime ago. I’d stopped caring who saw me and what they thought. Worrying about people finding out about us seemed so pointless now.
I knocked on the door and waited. When I started to think no one was home, the door opened.
Asher Martino stared at me, his dark features tightening when he saw who it was.
“Is Marcus here?” I asked when he failed to acknowledge me.
“No,” Asher said and started to push the door closed.
I stuck my foot in the gap to stop it and shoved it back open.
Martino watched me with a raised eyebrow.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“With all due respect, Professor, why should I tell you?” he asked, his voice full of threat.
I swallowed the knot of frustration and shame in my throat. “Because I need to speak to him, it’s important.”
“Unless you can take back his brother’s brain injury or conjure up one hundred grand, I don’t think it’s that important. Now, fuck off,” he said cruelly and slammed the door.
I banged on it. “Please, I need to speak to him.” I needed him to know I hadn’t done it on purpose. I needed him to know I’d never betray him like that.
Silence met my cries. No one opened the door. I was shut out, literally.
I didn’t sleep at all that night, instead lying awake and staring at the ceiling. I needed to speak to Marcus; I wanted to know how Cole was. I’d gone to the hospital to try and find out for myself, but they hadn’t given me any information.
Early in the morning, I decided to give up trying to sleep, got dressed, and went back to the dorms. This time, no one even came to the door when I knocked. Should I go to the cabin in the woods where I’d met his brother? Try the hospital again?
I drove out of the main gate at HHU and turned the car toward town. On a long, lonely stretch of road that was near The Clutch, the bikes appeared. Motorcycles, five of them. They sped up behind me, and two of them passed by close enough to touch.
