CADENCE
A note slips out of my locker at school on Monday.
Meet me at the pool before first period.
It’s in a masculine scrawl and it’s signed simply ‘Dutch’.
I glance around, looking to see if he’s watching. Weird. Leaving a note in my locker isn’t usually Dutch’s style. He’d either text me or show up out of nowhere and cart me over his shoulder like a Neanderthal.
Pulling out my phone, I shoot him a text. Why do you want to meet me at the pool? There’s no response.
The smartest thing would be to totally ignore this message, but I have a feeling that if I do, whatever revenge Dutch is planning will be ten times bigger and ten times more public.
The school is already buzzing thanks to him dragging me up to the second floor at the party. I don’t even want to know what kind of rumors are going around about us now. Best to deal with him away from prying eyes so this madness ends quietly.
The pool is all the way on the opposite end of the school where the football field and gym are located. The hallway is empty when I pass by.
My footsteps thud. It feels like my breath is bouncing off the walls. I wonder where everyone is until I notice an under construction sign.
That explains it.
As I approach the pool, alarm bells start ringing in my head. I never learned to swim, so I keep a healthy distance from this death trap.
Giving the water a wide berth, I glance around. Pale blue reflections dance on the walls. The bleachers are empty and a fine hint of dust lingers in the air. Dutch is nowhere to be seen.
I turn in a circle. Something doesn’t feel right. Deciding to listen to the voice screaming in my head this time, I don’t linger.
I take a step toward the door when a shuffling sound comes from behind me. Before I can turn around, two hands slam into my back. I scream and tumble forward.
On instinct, I throw my arms out, struggling to keep upright. But I can’t regain my balance.
I hit the water with a smack, sinking fast. Panic fills my body. I claw my arms through the water, fighting to reach the surface.
My kicking and thrashing produces a ton of bubbles, but it doesn’t push me up. Instead, it feels like I’m sinking faster.
Deeper. Deeper.
I can’t breathe.
My lungs are burning.
Save me. Someone save me.
But there’s no one around. All the signs would keep people from even venturing near this place. I was the idiot who believed Dutch. I was the one who put myself in the middle of his dangerous game.
Please.
The fight in me starts to weaken. I’m feeling more and more exhausted. Although I’m putting all my effort into flailing my arms and legs, it’s just not working.
The truth hits me in the face. I’m going to die.
Here.
At Redwood.
Alone.
My only thought is of my sister and who will take care of her when I’m gone.
I’m sorry, Vi.
I wish I’d never come to Redwood.
Darkness steals over my vision, robbing me of my anger and the last of my breath.
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DUTCH
“Move!” I yell, blasting through the crowd that’s scattering in front of me. Kids turn and give me wide-eyed stares.
The hell?
Don’t they understand the words coming out of my mouth? “Out of the way!”
I sprint down the hallway, knocking aside anyone who’s foolish enough to stay in my path. Hurling through the back door, I take a short cut to the athletics area.
She has to be okay. She has to be okay.
It’s the only line in my head.
I was driving to school when Cadence’s text came in. At first, I thought it was a joke, but there was this feeling inside. Something telling me to check it out.
That’s when a video of Cadence falling into the pool lit up my cell phone. Before I could even think about what I should do, I was already running like a maniac away from my brothers.
“Cadence!” I roar. My voice bangs against the wall and echoes back to
me.
Without stopping, I pump my arms at my sides and dive straight into the
water. The shock of cold hits my skin, but I barely feel any of it. Whipping around desperately, I freeze when I see Cadence still and floating in the deep end.
Her hair curls on top of her head as if a part of her is still reaching for the surface. Her eyes are closed and there are no bubbles coming out of her nose.
Damn it. Damn it.
Swimming over to her, I hook a hand around her stomach and propel us both back to the surface. I explode out of the water, taking a deep breath. Cadence’s head lolls.
I don’t think she’s breathing.
Carrying her limp body to the edge, I set her down gently and jump out after her.
I set a finger under her nose. Only a shallow puff of air hits my skin. She’s barely breathing.
“Cadey. Come on. Wake up!” I push down on her chest, calling on my faint memories of CPR that I did a few summers ago.
I hear the panic in my voice. It’s bouncing against the walls like a game of ping pong. But screw it. I don’t care what this fear deep in my stomach is saying about me, saying about what I feel for her.
I don’t care about anything but seeing her big brown eyes open and knowing she’s alright.
“Cadey. Wake up,” I growl. “That’s an order.” Clipping her nose, I press my mouth to hers.
A moment later, she chokes up water.
I hold her upright, patting her back while she gets everything out. Her eyes are hazy and her skin is pale.
“Cadey, are you okay?”
She doesn’t answer. Her body goes limp again and she falls into my chest.
That’s not a good sign.
Footsteps thud in the distance. My brothers charge toward the pool. Their eyes bug when they see me, dripping wet and holding an equally drenched Cadence.
“What the hell happened?” Finn explodes.
“I’ll explain later. I need to get her to the nurse.”
“Here.” Zane whips his jacket off and hands it over to me. “Her lips are blue. Her body might be going into thermal shock. You gotta keep her warm.”
I snap the jacket from him and dip it around Cadence’s shoulders. She’s trembling. Even though her eyes are closed, her teeth chatter loudly.
Damn. It breaks my freaking heart.
“It’s going to be okay,” I whisper. Pushing my arms beneath her, I hoist her up from the cold tiles and cradle her limp body against my chest.
I almost slip when I run to the door. Recovering quickly, I keep up the pace and tear through the exits.
My brothers rush after me.
I don’t speak to either of them. My fingers curl into Brahm’s body, giving her as much warmth as I can while running like hell.
When I see the infirmary up ahead, I kick down the door.
The nurse yelps and shoots to her feet. I know how this must look. Me
—soaked through to my skin. Cadence—covered in Zane’s jacket, pale, blue and lifeless.
“She needs help!” I bark. Stalking across the room, I gently deposit Cadence on a hospital cot while, behind me, the nurse rushes into action.
“Stand back,” she says, pushing me away so she can inspect Cadence.
I want to snap at her, tell her to work around me, but Finn grabs my arm. Zane takes the other.
My brothers physically restrain me so the nurse can rush around Cadence. When I keep staring, she pulls the curtain so I can’t see anything.
“Shut up,” Finn hisses in my ear before I can protest. “Let her do her thing,” Zane advises me.
I pace the length of the infirmary. It’s a small space with a couple framed certificates on the wall. Fake plants line the desk. Sunshine bounces through cottage-like windows. It’s way too freaking cheerful for what I’m feeling right now.
Zane sticks a hand into his pockets. He slides me a demanding look. “Was this you?”
“The hell?” I scowl. “Why would I arrange for her to drown and then save her?”
“Last Friday, you said you were going to get drastic,” Zane recalls. “Is this what you meant?” Finn hisses.
Both my brothers look at me like I’ve lost my mind.
I curl my fingers into fists. I’ve done some messed-up things, sure. I’m not going to deny that. I’m no saint. But I’ve never straight up tried to murder anyone.
Before any of us can say another word, the nurse whips the curtains aside. “She’ll be okay.”
The relief that sweeps over me almost collapses my chest.
“But she was very close to danger. If you hadn’t rushed her here,” her expression sobers, “it might have been a different story.”
“Does she need to go to the hospital?” I ask urgently.
“Her body temperature is rising slowly. I’ll give her something warm to drink when she wakes up. I’ll keep monitoring her until then. You can all go
to class now. There’s nothing more you can do.” I stalk forward. “I need to see her.”
“She needs rest—”
“I know that.” My voice is rising and I cringe. Lowering my tone, I say, “I won’t wake her up.”
She purses her lips, thinks about it and then nods. Finn and Zane gesture for me to go ahead.
“We’ll wait out here,” Finn says.
“Don’t you have class?” the nurse insists.
Zane cranks out a smile that has her blushing. “Can you give us a minute more? We’ll leave as soon as we’re done here.”
She clears her throat, still looking flustered. “Five minutes.” “Thank you so much,” Zane says huskily.
I grip the curtain that’s hiding Cadence from view. Just before wrenching it back, I hesitate.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I’m not supposed to be the dutiful hero of the story. I spent all weekend freaking plotting all the ways I could bring her doom. She’s in my way. She’s in Sol’s way.
Maybe I should have left her in the water.
That thought alone is messed up. I don’t deserve to pull aside the curtain, but I do anyway because I break all the damn rules, even if they’re my own.
Cadence is lying flat on her back. Her hair’s still wet and seeping into her pillow. There are several blankets piled on top of her. I note that her rose-bud lips are starting to return to their normal, pink color.
It’s unnerving how beautiful she is even without makeup. Most girls pile it on, needing it for the confidence boost, needing a mask. I’m not against it. Redhead and her fiery red lips star in my dreams most nights… when Cadence isn’t taking over the fantasy. But there’s something about Cadey’s fresh-faced beauty that makes her look innocent and fragile. Like something to be protected.
Something to be protected?
What. The. Hell.
I can’t do this. I can’t get soft on her. Not when the stakes are so high and the clock is counting down. We have less than ten days to get Sol back into Redwood.
Even if she’s got a crappy mom and a tough home life, it’s none of my business. She’s not where she belongs. That much hasn’t changed.
Despite the eloquent arguments, I still don’t leave Brahm’s makeshift room. Spying some towels on the shelf, I take one down and gently smooth it over her hair.
If the point is to keep her warm, then her head should be too.
I work quietly until most of the clumped strands are dry. Then I lift her head, gently, and slide a fresh pillow beneath her.
When I return outside, I hear the nurse asking Zane, “Is there any family we can alert?”
“No,” I growl out.
The nurse arches an eyebrow.
“Her mom died. Her younger sister shouldn’t be worrying about this crap.” My fingers flex and curl back into a fist.
“O… kay.” She looks taken aback.
Zane chuckles, doing what he does best—smoothing over a tense moment with charm. “Could you let us know when she wakes up, beautiful? We’d really appreciate it.”
“I’m supposed to contact her family only—” “Just let us know,” I cut in brusquely.
“We’d really appreciate it,” Zane says, turning up the charm a few notches higher.
She gives him a tight nod.
When we leave, my brothers flank me on either side.
“Who do you think was behind this?” Finn asks, his arms swinging rigidly.
“Only one person would be this stupid.” I fish out my phone from my pocket and show them the video. If it was just about Cadence, they wouldn’t have sent a video. Someone wanted to make a point to me too.”
“Christa,” Zane hisses.
Finn clamps a hand on my shoulder, trying to stop my march down the hallway. “Let’s go to the practice room. Figure out our next step.”
“I already know what my next step is.”
Zane looks worried. “What are you going to do?”
“Don’t worry.” I toss a cold glance over my shoulder. “All I’m going to do is talk.”
“We’ll come with you.”
“Don’t bother. I’ll take the rap for this one alone.” I jut my chin at the opposite hallway. “Principal Harris will be on our tail if all three of us miss any more classes. You two are late because of me. Don’t give him another reason to screw us off.”
Finn shakes his head.
Zane doesn’t move a muscle either.
I huff and nudge my brothers in the opposite direction. “Go.”
They leave reluctantly. I watch to make sure they’re not going to double back and sneak up on me like they did at the pool. Even though I was grateful for the assist earlier, I really don’t want them interfering this time.
Storming down the hallway, I stop in front of first period Lit. Miss Jamieson is at the white board, talking about Shakespeare. I knock on the door out of respect for her and then I barge in.
She stops talking abruptly. The big brown eyes that Zane took one look at and fell hard for blink up at me.
“Mr. Cross, can I help you?”
My eyes sweep the room until they land on Christa’s smug face. She’s wearing a pink shirt under her sweater vest and a stupid looking beret.
“The principal needs to see Christa,” I say through gritted teeth.
Usually, I would just growl out what I want and most teachers wouldn’t care enough to stop me.
But I know better than to try that with Miss Jamieson. Even if it did work, she probably wouldn’t stick around Redwood Prep if she thought she’d lost the respect of her students. And then my twin would kill me.
“The principal?” Miss Jamieson raises both eyebrows, as if she’s not sure she believes me.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” She makes a go ahead gesture. “Christa, you may go.”
Christa and her friends exchange knowing looks and giggles as she climbs to her feet. Grabbing her purse, she swings it at her side and follows me out the door.
“What’s going on, Dutch?” she asks, but her voice is a little too giddy for the question to sound casual.
I say nothing.
We’re still too close to the classrooms. I can feels Miss Jamieson’ eyes on me through the windows. She’s a smart lady and she likely smells my BS a mile away. It’s probably why she was able to smell Zane’s too.
Christa smirks up at me. “Enough walking, Dutch. What’s so important that you would pull me out of class?”
I look both ways to make sure we’re in the camera’s blindspot. Then I whirl on her, unleashing the full breadth of my fury in a narrowed gaze.
“What the hell did you do?”
Christa’s eyes widen and she shuffles back. “Dutch.”
I show her my cell phone, trying hard to keep my cool. If Christa were a guy, I would have thrown a punch. But since a physical fight is out of the question, all I can do is warn her to never cross me again.
“What is that?” Her voice drags and she puts on an expression of fake concern. “Oh my gosh. Is Cadence okay?”
“I know you’re the one responsible for this little show.” I bend over her, keeping my voice low and calm. I’ve found that it’s scarier when someone is emotionless than when they’re loud and obnoxious.
I lost my cool with Cadence yesterday and she saw right through the anger to what I was trying to hide.
“Me?” Christa presses a hand into her chest. “I know you’re the one who sent the video.”
“I didn’t.” Her eyelashes flutter so hard it’s a miracle they’re still attached to her face.
“No?” I nod brusquely. Pulling the cell phone back to me, I call the anonymous number that forwarded the video.
A phone rings from Christa’s purse.
Her face drains of blood and her mouth opens in an ‘o’.
I didn’t think anyone could be that stupid, but I highly underestimated Christa.
When she realizes she’s cornered, her expression crumbles and big, crocodile tears come to her eyes.
“Dutch, I don’t know what came over me. I was just so mad and I wanted to scare her a little.” She sobs.
“She almost died, Christa. You could have killed her.”
Genuine horror fills her eyes. She latches onto my hand. “I didn’t think she’d drown. I mean, who doesn’t know how to swim? They’re, like, thousands of ways to learn.”
I bite down on my bottom lip to keep from unleashing my frustrations at her. She’s not worth another second of my time.
Flinging Christa’s hand off, I march away.
“Dutch.” Christa launches at me and slides her arms around my waist, hugging me from the back.
“Let. Go.”
“I can get her out of Redwood,” she sputters desperately. My entire body goes still.
“I’ve been talking to my dad. Wearing him down. You know he’s the chairman of the board, right?”
When I still say nothing, Christa inches around me so she’s staring into my face. Her eyes are still shimmering from the tears. Mascara is running down her cheeks.
“If you say the word, Dutch, I’ll call my dad. He’s got the ear of everyone on the school board. I’ll make up a reason to kick her out of Redwood Prep for good.”
