Page 95 of Bound By Fury

“Go!” I growl, digging my fingers into the soil and lifting my face, snot tracing down to my chin, the salt of tears and mud coating my tongue. But this isn’t the earthy, mineral-rich taste of Carolina dirt—it’s putrid, like worm-eaten apples and decay.

The rot mentioned in Gigi’s letter. Slithers through the cracks in the mountain. Infects the land.

Everything that has led to this moment, every clue, every mysterious connection to a one-hundred-year-old lynching, every crumb unearthed from this wicked school and its buried past—was any of that worth it?

He stands slowly, his hands palm out.

I choke on a sob when I see the look on his face.

The hate I’ve grown so accustomed to is nowhere to be found. In its place is something I can only describe as anguish. Red-rimmed eyes and parted pink lips.

He approaches me carefully, and I rise to my knees, sitting back against my heels.

His eyes never leave mine as he eases to a stop in front of me, sinking to the ground until we are the same.

Shaking arms wrap around my sweatered shoulders, and I freeze. I panic. I push against him. I’m suffocating. Gasping for breath.

“Shhh,” Malachi hums. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re okay. It’s going to be okay.” By the end I can’t tell if he’s talking to me or himself.

This only makes me cry harder because the warmth of his embrace is bittersweet.

How many times have I wished for this? How many times have I lain in bed, imagining that things had turned out different?

He rubs gentle circles against my back, his nose buried in my curls. I grip him tighter. So tight, I know it’s hurting him. But I don’t care. He deserves it.

“Why are you here?” I hiccup into his neck. I fist his hair as a wave of nausea rolls through me. “Did—did you see—are they—did they—”

“They’re gone.”

The sound of my voice has broken the spell. He pulls away from me, an unreadable mask on his face. I sit back.

“Who was it? What was it?” I ask.

My hands rake down my cheeks, wiping away the tears and snot.

“I—I don’t know what that was… I—I didn’t see anyone. I was walking past when I heard fighting. It sounded… it sounded like you. I know your voice. I could feel that something was wrong. I called for you, I heard running, and then when I found you, you were all alone, barely conscious.”

Panic rises in me once again. “There was—was a guy… or I don’t know, a person in a robe. They—they attacked me. They were wearing this mask like, like a bird. They w-wanted something from me. I know it was one of them, one of the men who hanged those women! I know he knows wha—who I am!”

The words come out in a jumbled rush, and the change in him is immediate.

His face is a cruel reminder of all that has soured between us. “I thought you left the party with Lucas. Where the fuck was he when this happened?”

My throat burns with rage. I grab it and dig my nails into the delicate skin beneath my chin. “Don’t fucking look at me like that! And what does it matter? Lucas and I—” The pain from how we left things only compounds my agony. “I don’t know where Lucas is. He wasn’t with me when…”

“Harper,” Malachi says firmly, “maybe you’re just confused. Maybe you hit your head or something—”

“I’m not confused!” I say, slapping his hand away. “You don’t fucking get it!”

His expression hardens. “I’m just trying to help you. I’m sorry this happened to you. We can… we could go to the campus security. Report this—”

“No.” It’s rigid. Final. “I don’t want that. I don’t want any of this!”

A cloud crosses his face. “This is why you should leave. This is exactly why you should leave.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I scream.

“Shh!”