Page 86 of Terror Tuesday
“But you’re—different. You won’t even look at me.”
Because if I do, I’ll fall apart. And Vanq will tear him to pieces. And I’ll let him.
“Things are just…complicated,” I say, tightening my grip on the strap of my bag.
Elliot laughs softly, trying to downplay the sting. “What? Because of Nick?” He nudges me gently with his elbow, playfully. Desperate. A little mirth lifts his question, but I still hear the pain. “Come on. That guy’s got the emotional depth of a beer pong table.”
“Don’t,” I snap and face him. That single word stops him mid-step.
“Don’t what?”
Caliphylla,help me. He’s so gorgeous when I’m about to break both his and my heart. “Don’t joke. Don’t smile like everything’s okay. Don’t make this harder.”
He stares at me, searching my face like it holds clues, but I’m not going to confess. The wind rustles his sandy-colored hair as his green eyes search the cloudless sky for an answer before he fixes them on me. I squirm under their gaze.
“Was I a mistake?” he asks quietly. Fragile and vulnerable.
I hate that it hits me like a car wreck.
“No,” I whisper. “But it can’t happen again.”
“Why not?”
Because he’ll kill you.
Because he’s watching.
Because if I let you touch me again, I won’t survive what happens next.
But I just shake my head. “I’m sorry.” I step back. “You were nothing but kind. I just…can’t right now.”
Elliot watches me go. He doesn’t chase me or speak.
He just stands there. Bag slung over one shoulder. Mouth parted slightly. Like I’d just shot him clean through the chest. And I feel it, too.
I don’t look back, but the guilt sinks in so fast that I feel like I’m drowning in acid. This isn’t what I wanted. Not at all. I wanted hope. Maybe even something close to love.
But now all I have is fear. And fire.
And the image of Elliot’s shattered face burned into the back of my eyes.
Vanq will pay for this.
As determined as I am when I get back to my room to shut the stalker out of it completely, I gasp when I see my diaryopened to a fresh page with a new note card waiting for me on the bed.
A reckoning waits where shadows grow.
He walks unknowingly toward your flame?—
A nameless man. A bloodstained name.
The watcher’s eye is fixed on you,
A trial in silence. A test born true.
No altar here—no priest, no prayer?—
Just breath, and blade, and midnight air.
