Page 3 of Pray for Scars
Ria stops in her tracks and nods toward the woman. “That’s what I was looking for,” she says with a small smile.
Tweed is getting really uncomfortable. He’s back to drumming his hands on the desk, rapidly. But Ria keeps talking, ignoring his body language.
“The Unsaints have become a bit of a local legend around Alexandria.” Her eyes meet mine for a second. “The sons of some of the oldest families in town, Lucifer Malikov being one of them. They have a reputation for being handsome, lewd, and, of course, filthy rich.”
A few chuckles, and then someone says, “Yeah, and don’t forget, murderers.”
Ria’s eyes narrow on the guy who called that out. “Oh?” she asks, as if she doesn’t know.
I realize I’m holding my breath. Tweed has stopped his drumming again, and I wonder if he’s holding his, too.
“I mean, we all know about Unsaint’s Night. Their little orgies in the woods.” The guy talking clasps his hands together on the desk and leans forward, almost conspiratorially. “And,” he says, pitching his voice lower, “my sister said they skipped it this year because last year, someone fucking poisoned them. And then they killed who did it!”
My chest tightens.
“Language!” Tweed shouts, twisting in his seat. I can see his face. It’s blotchy and red. He narrows his eyes at the guy who holds up his hands as if in surrender. He turns back to Ria. “Miss Cuevas, I think that’s more than enough. We aren’t here to discuss wild rumors and baseless speculations. This is ahistorycourse, not theatre.” He stands to his feet.
“Well,” the older woman who has been answering Ria’s questions says gently, looking down at her nails, “it’s not all rumors, Professor Moore.” Moore, still standing, frowns at her, but doesn’t say anything. “I don’t know aboutallof them, but the Society of 6, their parents, are well known in the community.” She meets Moore’s eyes and shrugs. “That Rain boy, he’s the one that killed his foster parents. They were in the 6. The Malikov boy didn’t offer to rebuild the hotel out of the goodness of his heart. It’s because Rain is an Unsaint, too.”
Moore shakes his head. “Those murders were self-defense.” He walks to the podium, glaring at Ria. “Thank you, Miss Cuevas, for this colorful contribution to my classroom today.” He nods to the seat he just vacated, indicating she should sit. She shakes her head.
“Actually, Professor, I’m not feeling great,” she whispers, but there’s not that many people in here. We can hear her. She clutches her stomach. “I’m just going to…”
Moore basically shoos her out. I snap my notebook shut and shove it and my pen in my bag, and then I race down the steps that divide the lecture room and hurry after her, yanking open the door just as she closes it. I don’t offer an explanation, even as Moore is saying, “Excuse me!” after me.
I slam the door shut and look down the hallway. Ria is easy to spot. She’s the only one out here besides me. I race after her and grab her arm, whirling her around.
She looks pissed. I drop her arm.
“What was that about?” I ask her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you—”
She throws up her hands. “Yeah? Well I didn’t really want you to find me. Especially not after whatyour brotherdid to us.”
“Us?” I ask, rearing back, surprised.
She rolls her eyes, crosses her arms. “The girls,” she grits out. “We…all of us…he spiked everyone’s drink.”
“I know,” I snap back, shaking my head. Is she actually accusing me of having something to do with this? “And how do you know he’s my brother?”
She chews her bottom lip. “I talk to Mav—,” she clears her throat, “Mayhem.”
I instantly feel guilty about hooking up with him at the party two weeks ago, even though I don’t know why. But then I see a dark bruise on her neck, barely visible over the collar of her shirt, and wonder if they’ve alreadykissedand made up.
She rubs her hand over it, catching my eye. She looks down. “I shouldn’t be talking to you.”
“What? Why?” I cross my arms, adjusting my backpack. “I didn’t have anything to do with those drinks that night! Surely Mayhem told youthat.”
She frowns, her golden eyes downcast. “I actuallycan’ttalk to you.” She meets my gaze and her eyes narrow. “I had to sign a fucking NDA after that night, Sid. Mayhem’s family came to my apartment early the next morning, with fuckingguns!”
I gesture behind me. “That kid in class knew what happened. Why the hell would you have to sign an NDA?”
She drops her gaze again. “Not about the drinks,” she says quietly. She sighs, shaking her head. “I really shouldn’t be telling you this. Any of it. Mayhem will literally kill me.” She looks up.
I laugh, bitterly. “If you think he’ll kill you,” I point to her neck, “maybe stop fucking him then?”
She looks like she might slap me. Maybe I’ll deserve it. Instead, she just shakes her head, biting her lip.
“The NDA wasn’t about the drinks. Or the Unsaints. Or…Lover’s Death.” She takes a breath. “It was aboutyou.”She turns to walk away, and I’m too stunned to move. She glances back over her shoulder. “Get out of here, Sid. Unless you still have a death wish.”
