Page 139 of Freshmeet
I trembled, my stomach twisting as I remembered Hailey’s guts spilling onto the ground.
“Don’t look at me like that. If you had just picked me, no one would have died.”
“I didn’t?—”
“Stop! Just stop. You led me on for the past year.” When I frowned, he got in my face, dragging the tip of his knife along my jaw. I sank into the couch, the springs digging into my ass and back as I tried to escape getting sliced. “All the times we hung out—the way you took care of me after Hailey? What else would you call that?”
“Friendship,” I whispered, the air trapped in my lungs unable to get out.
“Friendship? Fuck friendship.” He flicked his wrist, nicking my cheek.
I yelped, my hand going to my face. When I pulled my fingers away, they were covered with blood. Nausea turned my stomach, and there was a very real chance that I would throw up all over Carter before he gutted me. “Please let me go. I’ll do anything.”
Carter loomed over me, appraising the damage done. A sick satisfaction shone in his eyes. “I don’t know if you’re worth it anymore.” He gripped my chin and licked the line of blood dripping down my cheek.
Panic seized my chest as I prepared myself to make a move.
“I would’ve given you the world, but you chose Connor. I don’t think I can get past that.” He shoved my head back in disgust.
“Okay,” I murmured, kicking him in the dick and grabbing the pepper spray. In a stroke of luck, I hit the right button, and a stream of spray hit Carter right in the mouth.
He screamed, stumbling back into the coffee table. The old piece of furniture collapsed under his weight, sending splinters of wood everywhere.
Not wasting a second, I jumped up and ran, but he was right behind me.
Lined up along the window by the kitchen table were our puff-painted, initiation-night champagne bottles. Grabbing the closest one to me, I swung, cracking Carter upside the head. He stumbled into the counter, putting his broad body between me and the door to the outside. Cut off, I turned toward the stairs.
Better to get doors between us than die on this shitty-ass linoleum.
I thundered up the steps, thankful for all the late-night stumbles to bed because I was able to navigate the wonky staircase in the dark. Carter, a bit fucked up from the hit, tripped on air and fell face-first.
Gasping for air in the hot, air-conditionless hallway, I darted into my room and slammed the door closed. I scanned the room for something heavy to create a blockade. Whether it was adrenaline or the spirit of the Frattic sisters that had come before, I wedged my shoulder against the dresser and managed to shove it in front of the door. It fell over with a loud crack, my expensive clothes spilling all over the floor.
Carter banged on the door. “Come on, Sarah. Open up. I just want to talk.”
He continued to pound on the door as I searched the room for any weapons. The problem? I was woefully unprepared to defend my own life.
Tears streamed down my face as the door rattled on the hinges. “Leave me alone!” I screamed, my voice shrill.
“Open the fucking door!”
When I’d about given up hope, Carter banged on the wall, knocking my sorority paddle to the floor.
Perfect.
Grabbing it, I backed away toward the window.
After another forceful hit, the wood splintered down the middle. I shrieked, shoving open the window. Rain blew in, soaking my cute pink throw rug. The tornado sirens were still going strong as I took a deep breath and clambered out onto the roof.
I cleared the windowsill, and there was a loud crash. Glancing back, I caught the door breaking in half and Carter’s demonic smile coming through.
Wiping my eyes with the back of my arm, I climbed over the pitch, hoping to get to the other side, where there was a small drop to the roof of the frat’s front porch.
“Gotcha,” Carter yelled, grabbing my foot and pulling me back.
Gripping the top of the peak with my free hand, I kicked back into him, breaking his hold. We slid down the shingles, landing on the flat part of the roof next to my window.
If only I could lock him out here.
