Page 93 of Bound to a Killer
Nerves build fast as I take my seat inside the lab, keeping my gaze from drifting toward the far corner where Jayce and his friends sit.
Clara smiles at me as I approach, already seated with her book open. I take a seat beside her, thumping my heavy textbook down and flipping to the page number listed on the whiteboard up front.
She tries to whisper something to me, but Mrs. Straut’s already narrow eyes land on us, a long index finger raised to her lips in a silent warning. A moment later, the bell rings. She shuts the door behind her and launches into a lesson on cell division, sketching a quick diagram on the board. I try to follow, but the marker lines blur as my mind drifts back to Ledger.
Maybe I should text him.
Clara nudges my shoulder, sneaking me a crumpled piece of paper with a flicker of excitement in her round eyes. I carefully unfold it while the teacher’s back is to us, skimming the messy scribbles inside.
She waits for me to glance back at her, still grinning, unaware that something’s changed in my demeanor. I try to return the smile, but it feels forced. Still, I nod, giving her the answer she’s hoping for, confirming that I’ll sleep over at her place tonight. My stomach hollows as I think of how I’ll break the news to her, but now doesn’t feel like the right moment to jot down a recap of everything that happened.
Unease prickles my skin as I think of how she’ll take it. Willshe still sit with all of them at lunch now that he and I are done? I’m not so sure I can do it. Just the idea of being near him turns my stomach.
But I can’t tell her who to be friends with. She’s dating one of his friends now, too. Everything feels jumbled in ways that are too messy to sort through, especially with everything else spinning in my head.
My phone buzzes against the side of my leg, barely audible, but I jolt, the vibrations shooting through me like static, sharp, sudden, and gone in a blink, leaving behind the hollow echo of breathlessness. I raise my hand, excusing myself to use the restroom, and rush into the hallway, my chest thudding like a drum in my ears.
I wait until I’ve rounded the corner, safely out of view from any classroom windows, before slipping out my phone, fingers tingling. It’s Mom. Her name blazes across the screen, puncturing straight through my chest like a needle to a balloon, deflating the flicker of excitement I felt seconds ago.
Mom: I’m sorry about the way I showed up this morning. Please, just give me another chance.
I delete it without a second thought. She hadn’t found time to respond in the weeks she was gone, so why should I now? Screw it.
I tense, hearing the footsteps behind me a second too late. A hand clamps down on my shoulder, and I let out a startled yelp, scrambling to hide my phone.
It’s Jayce. “What the hell, you scared me,” I say, my voice strained as I suck in a steadying breath. How’d he even get out of class? Mrs. Straut never lets two students leave at once.
He chuckles, low and smug, the sound crawling under my skin as he coils his arm tighter, dragging me closer. “Relax. Didn’t think you’d scare that easily.”
I stiffen, panic festering as I try to shrug him off, but his grip only tightens in a possessive, unsettling way. “What are you doing?”
“Checking in on my girlfriend,” he says flatly, his brows pulling together into a deadly stare.
Like yesterday’s awkward mess hadn’t happened.
A chill cuts through me, blood turning to ice.
“Jayce, I?—”
My words die in my throat, a knot cinching in there as I struggle to breathe. His grip turns hostile, the pressure burrowing into my skin until I flinch.
The darkness in his expression fades just enough for his dimpled grin to return, but it sits wrong. Measured. Almost tactile.
“Just wanted to remind you the limo’s picking you guys up from Clara’s at seven,” he says, his tone even, completely unfazed.
Apprehension rattles my bones. My thoughts race too fast to slow them long enough to figure out where things might’ve been misconstrued, but I come up short. I thought it was clear when he stormed out that things between us were over.
“Jayce, I’m not going.”
His eyes sharpen, a look that crystallizes the dread forming inside me, and what he says next snatches the breath straight from my lungs. “The picture of yourself that you sent last night says otherwise.”
Every drop of warmth leaches from my face. My body goes rigid, spine locked, trapped in his arms, and my ears fill with the swooshing sound of my blood pulsing hard in my veins.
This can’t be happening.
No. I’m sure I’m stuck in a nightmare. It started off rocky the moment I opened my eyes to my mom’s sudden return, and everything since has felt like a continuation of the same long-winded dream. Any second now, I’ll wake up.
“We don’t have to hang out before prom,” he says, his voice turning cold. “But I expect you not to embarrass me once we’re together.”
