Page 104 of Kiss Me Like I Didn't Kill You
“It’s all right,” I murmur, tightening the reins just enough. “Just noise. Nothing else.”
When the thunder rolls again, louder, he flinches but keeps moving, trusting me.
The rain thickens, tapping hard against my helmet, soaking my gloves. The scent of wet pine fills the air. I let him gallop, his hooves thudding against slick ground, the rhythm fierce and alive.
The rush of it, all the noise in my head, goes quiet.
Then a flash splits the sky. Bellamy jolts sideways, muscles bunching beneath me. I grip the reins tight, lean low, murmuring to him until his tremor eases. “Easy, boy. Easy.”
By the time we reach the stables again, we’re both drenched. I slide down, unbuckle the saddle, and rub him dry as best I can before giving him feed.
He nudges my pocket for sugar cubes, as always. I give him two, stroke his muzzle, and close the stable door behind me.
Rain still falls, softer now. I walk back to my dorm, boots squelching on the gravel path.
The moment I’m inside, I strip off my wet clothes and step beneath a hot shower.
When I finally step out, wrapped in a towel, my skin feels raw but clean. I pull on a pair of jeans and a jumper, tugging the sleeves down over my hands.
My phone isn’t on the table. Or the nightstand. I check the desk, the bed, nothing. It must be in my bag.
When I unzip it, my fingers brush against paper and my stomach drops.
No. Not again.
I pull the note out slowly, my breath catching as I unfold it.
A murderer can’t escape her sins. Everything in life has a price. Yours is coming due.
The words blur for a second, the room spinning around them.
My chest constricts. I can’t breathe. I press a hand against it, try to inhale, exhale, again and again.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
But my lungs refuse to cooperate. My body feels detached, distant, trembling. I sink to the floor, back against the wall, the paper crumpled in my hand.
“Breathe,” I whisper to myself. “Breathe, please.”
Eventually, the tightness in my chest loosens, the pounding in my ears fading to a dull thrum. I drop my head against my knees, shaking.
When I finally look up, a flicker of movement catches my eye.
My gaze lifts to the window, the one that faces straight into Arlo’s dorm.
Midnight blue.
Green.
He’s there, standing in the shadows. For a long moment, neither of us moves. We just watch each other through the glass.
Then his head tilts, just slightly, and he smiles.
