Vengeance (15 page)

Any way you sliced it, the girl was mad crazy.

“And now for the awards for overall academic achievement in the junior class,” Headmaster Hathaway announced. I sat up a bit straighter, my heart prickling with nerves. Now that I had won scholar-athlete, I knew I had a shot at snagging this one as well, and I was beyond proud of myself for managing to get good grades this year even with all the insanity that had gone on. “As with the freshman and sophomore classes, this award is given out to one female student and one male student—the two students who have achieved the highest GPAs for the first three quarters of the year. And those students are . . . Reed Brennan and Sawyer Hathaway!”

Josh’s face lit up as my heart all but burst. He gave me a quick kiss and a hug. “I’m not worthy,” he joked as the room filled with applause.

“What?” Marc blurted under his breath. “Sawyer wasn’t even here the first half of the year.”

“They used his grades from his last school,” Noelle explained.

Marc slumped, blowing out an annoyed breath. “Please. This is nepotism at its finest.”

Everyone laughed and Josh squeezed my hand one more time before I got up to accept the award. I smiled and smoothed out the full skirt of my blue silk Chloé dress, scanning the room for Sawyer. His father looked out at the crowd as well, applauding along with the audience, but Sawyer didn’t appear. As the moments passed, a crease of confusion deepened just above the headmaster’s nose. Everyone was looking at me, so I made my way up to the podium to collect my second plaque and gift certificate. It took a couple of minutes for me to weave around all the tables and chairs, but still, no Sawyer.

“Well,” the headmaster said, leaning toward the microphone. “I guess I’ll have to give my son a little talking-to later.”

The crowd responded with polite laughter and Headmaster Hathaway turned his attention to me.

“Congratulations, Miss Brennan.”

“Thanks,” I replied.

He handed over the prizes and shook my hand. We posed for the requisite photo, and then I was done. On my way back to my chair, Noelle shot me a bemused look and I shrugged. We both knew it wasn’t like Sawyer to miss something like this. He loved school almost as much as Noelle loved Calvin Klein.

“What happened to your partner in brilliance?” Josh joked as I sat down next to him, tucking the plaque under my chair.

“I don’t know. Now that I think about it, I don’t think he was in class all day. Maybe he’s sick.”

“But then wouldn’t his own father know about it?” Astrid asked, taking a sip from her water goblet.

A slight tickle of foreboding skittered down my neck. I reached for my bag and pulled out my phone.

“What’re you doing?” Josh asked.

“Texting him,” I replied.

I knew Josh wasn’t Sawyer’s biggest fan at the moment, but I’d hoped we’d cleared up the facts that (a) I wasn’t interested in Sawyer in a boyfriendly way, but (b) he
was
my friend. I typed a quick message and hit send, then left my phone on the table between my silver knife and Josh’s salad plate to wait for his response.

Forty-five minutes and ten awards later, he still hadn’t written back. Finally, the seniors were done being honored, and the awards part of the evening was over.

“Let’s have one last round of applause for all our honorees!” Mr. Hathaway announced as he finished his closing speech. The resounding cheers were so loud a few people actually laughed in surprise. “And now, go ahead and enjoy your meals! Thank you all for coming!”

Almost instantly, waiters scurried to deliver the main course. A few people got up from their seats to stretch their legs and visit other tables.

“I’m gonna go hit the bathroom,” Josh said, giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “Be right back.”

“I’ll just be here devouring this salmon,” I replied.

He and Trey headed off for the bathroom while Gage started to nuzzle Ivy’s ear, making her giggle. Noelle rolled her eyes in disgust
and dragged Dash off to go say hello to some alumni. As the rest of us dug into our food, I saw Missy Thurber, of all people, winding her way around the many tables as if headed for ours. I was even more surprised when she walked all the way around until she was right behind me.

“I hope you’re proud of yourself,” she said, pressing her hands into the back of Josh’s vacated chair. I almost choked on my food. So she was actually talking to me now? Our relationship was no longer going to exclusively consist of evil glares?

“Proud of myself?” I asked.

“You seem to be picking off the Billings alums one by one,” she said, looking me up and down in an obnoxious way. “Guess I should stay away from you. Who knows what lies you’ll come up with about me to get me sent to jail?”

Astrid let out an indignant grunt. “Back off, you troll. Reed hasn’t lied about anyone.”

“You do know there’s actual proof that Paige paid off some guy to kill me and Carolina,” I said, turning in my seat to face her. “The guy confessed.”

Missy laughed. “Proof. Ha. Everything can be doctored these days, Reed. I’ll bet you a million dollars that video gets thrown out before it even makes it to court. And that guy was drunk when he blabbed. No one’s going to believe a loser like him over Paige Ryan.” She stood up straight and squared her shoulders, looking right into my eyes. “Either way, don’t think for a second that this is over,” she said through her teeth.

Then she reached over, plucked the fresh, warm roll from my bread plate, and took a bite out of it before walking off.

I gaped at Astrid, stunned.

“Did she really just steal your bread?” she asked.

“I think she really just did,” I replied.

And we both cracked up laughing. Honestly, when it came to villainous behavior, Missy had some brushing up to do. But still, something inside of me stirred. What did she mean, this wasn’t over? Did she have something to do with all these “accidents” too? Had she been working with Paige? They were cousins, after all, and Missy had hated me since our first day of sophomore year.

I watched her carefully as she crossed the room and sauntered over to Graham Hathaway. She ran her hand lightly over his shoulders, then picked up her clutch purse from his table and disappeared out a side door. It was a side door I knew all too well. I’d met Dash McCafferty in a little alcove through there last fall for one of those stolen moments between the two of us that I wasn’t too proud of. Graham took a last bite of potatoes and got up to follow her, buttoning his blue suit jacket as he went.

I watched the door swing shut behind them, then pushed my chair away from the table.

“I’ll be right back,” I said to Astrid.

I grabbed my phone and took off after them.

I crept around the corner and into the small alcove and almost lost my two bites of salmon. Graham had his tongue so far down Missy’s throat he could probably taste that roll she’d snagged from me moments ago. Her back was mashed up against the wall and his whole body was flattened against her even as he tried to wiggle his hands between their chests to get a feel.

Okay, ew. I had to look away. This wasn’t right. But I couldn’t seem to make myself move. It was like watching a truly horrible
American Idol
audition. You felt for the poor sap crooning away, so off-key he could shatter glass; you felt for the judges as they tried in vain to stop cringing; the whole thing made you feel queasy inside, but for some sadistic reason you had to see it through to the bitter end.

Missy turned her face, smearing her lipstick across her cheek, and started to open her eyes. A sudden surge of panic hit me hard, and I was about to turn away before she could accuse me of being a creeper,
but I was too late. She looked right at me, blinked, and then I swear she started to smile.

I turned, my heel catching on the ornate hallway rug, and stumbled around the corner. At that moment, someone’s gloved hand came down over my mouth and a strong arm locked around my waist. My heart hurtled into my throat and I tried to scream, but the fingers were clamped down too tightly against my lips as I was pulled roughly backward. I flailed and kicked and writhed, but nothing worked. My good arm flung out as my attacker dragged me toward the end of the hallway and for a brief, desperate second I was able to clasp the corner between the alcove and the hall, but with one jerk the guy freed my grip and we were all alone.

We were headed toward a back exit. A door that I knew led to the employee parking lot, which would be all but deserted, what with everyone working the banquet. My eyes filled with hot, angry, frantic tears.

This was not going to happen to me. Not again. Not without a fight. I whacked at my attacker with my cast as hard as I could and felt his grip give the tiniest bit. At that moment, Josh, Trey, and Gage came running into the hall. My eyes widened with hope as Josh turned and saw us.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing?”

The guys sprinted toward me and my attacker let go, dropping me on my ass in the center of the hall. He turned and fled out the back door. Gage and Trey went gunning right past me and gave chase. Josh ran over and fell to his knees in front of me.

“Are you all right?” he asked, running his hand over my forehead and into my hair. “Who the hell was that?”

“You didn’t see his face?” I gasped, clinging to my broken arm, which radiated sharp pains up into my shoulder and down into my fingertips.

Josh shook his head. “He was wearing a ski mask.”

“Oh my God.” I leaned into Josh’s chest, my breath coming short and ragged as wave after wave of terror crashed over me. “I thought it was over. Paige is in jail . . . I thought . . . I thought I was safe.”

“I know.” Josh ran his hand over my hair again and again and kissed the top of my head. “I know. It’s okay. We got here in time. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Suddenly Gage and Trey reappeared at the back door. They were out of breath and soaking wet. Apparently the skies, which had been threatening since that afternoon, had finally opened up. Gage doubled over as he clung to the door handle and I saw lightning flash through the sky behind him. He finally straightened up and let the door slam.

“Anything?” Josh asked.

“He took off in a black Acura,” Trey said as he fought for breath. He ran his hand over his close-shaven head, sloughing off the rain. “I tried to get the plates, but I only saw the first two letters.”

“Well, at least that’s something,” Josh said. He tipped my face up with his finger beneath my chin. “We should go to the police.”

I shook my head, tears streaming from the corners of my eyes. I felt like an idiot for going off on my own. For thinking this was over just because Paige was locked up. For not listening to MT. “I just want to go home.”

“But we have to report this,” Josh told me.

“So let them come to me for once,” I said, bracing my hand against the wall and struggling to my feet. All three of the guys—even Gage—made a move to help me, but I managed to do it myself. “Right now all I want to do is lock myself up in my room. And until someone figures out what the hell is going on around here, I’m not coming out.”

“So let me see if I understand all this,” Taylor said later that evening, pacing back and forth in front of my closet. Outside my window at Pemberly the storm raged, thunder growling and lightning flashing. The rain pelted the windowpane, sometimes so loudly it drowned out our words. Every now and then the lights would flicker and I just prayed we wouldn’t be left in the dark. That was the last thing my nerves needed right now. “This Sabine girl totally screwed with your mind via e-mail and text, then Noelle and her grandmother totally screwed with your mind via e-mail and text—”

“Um, hello? Sitting right here?” Noelle said, raising her hand from my desk chair like she was going to ask a question in class.

Taylor shot her a look that said “Let me finish.” Wow. Things had really changed.

“And now this MT person is screwing with you via text?” she finished.

“That’s the deal, basically, yeah,” I replied, leaning back into my pillows, which were propped up against the wall at the head of my bed.

I’d changed into my favorite Penn State sweatshirt and Easton soccer shorts upon returning to the dorm, and had just finished giving my statement about tonight’s incident to Detective Hauer, who had left with a promise to run the partial plate against the car’s make as soon as he got back to the Easton PD. While part of me would have loved to pass out and put this night behind me, I was far too wired to sleep, which was why everyone was here, keeping me company. Kiran leaned back against the door and Ivy sat at the foot of my bed, her back against the wall and her feet dangling over the edge of the mattress.

“Reed, I think you know what you need to do,” Taylor said seriously, crossing her arms over her chest. “You need to give up on technology.”

I snorted a laugh.

“She’s right,” Kiran put in, inspecting her fingernails. “Technology is not your friend.” Her eyes lit up and she pushed herself away from the wall. “Maybe you should move to, like, the African jungle or something. Become one of those women who lives off the land and studies the apes or something. Go completely off the grid.”

A bolt of lightning flashed so brilliantly I nearly jumped out of my skin. Taylor smirked and walked over to my dresser, piling her hair atop her head and checking out the effect in the mirror. While Ivy, Noelle, and I had gone casual, she and Kiran were still sporting their cocktail dresses, having come right back here with us instead of stopping by their rooms at the Driscoll.

“Yes, Kiran. That is
so
what I want to do with my life,” I said sarcastically as the thunder clapped just outside. “Why didn’t I think of that before?”

“Besides, we already decided. No running and hiding,” Ivy reminded me.

“So if we’re not gonna run and hide, I say we go on offense,” Noelle said, leaning forward in the chair. “Find out who this MT person is already and grill them about what they actually know until they snap.”

“But there’s no way to find out,” I told her, supporting my cast with my other hand. “Every time we try to text them it bumps back to me as unsent.”