Rival (Briarcliff Secret Society Series Book 1) Page 12

  “Oh, Callie.” Ivy's knees turn to liquid as she glides closer and grasps my arms. “It’s bad. It’s really, really bad.”

  I’m so sorry, Calla…

  “What’s bad? Ivy, you’re freaking me out.”

  Don’t see your mom like this. Come with me. Please, kiddo…

  Tears pool in Ivy's eyes. She parts her lips, and her despondency unearths a stirring inside my head, a slithering awareness that until now, was slumbering in the trenches of my mind.

  Kiddo, Your momma…

  I’ve been here before.

  She’s…

  Ivy’s expression is an exact replica of … Ahmar’s.

  “Callie,” Ivy says. “Piper was killed last night.”

  Dead.

  “W-what?” I stutter. Automatically, I glance past Ivy's shoulder into Piper’s room, though I know it’s empty. “No. She’s not. I just saw her…”

  “Last night?” Ivy's grip tightens on my upper arms. “Omigod, Callie, did you talk to her before she fell?”

  My eyes flick to hers. “What? No. I saw her at the dining hall.” I study Ivy closely. “You didn’t hear?”

  “No. I do know she missed the crew meeting, though. But listen, there’s no time. I came to prepare you.”

  “Prepare me for what?”

  I hate that I keep repeating things back to her, but my brain’s in a jumble and my body’s going into panic mode.

  “They found Piper at the bottom of Lover’s Leap.”

  It can’t be. This can’t be happening a second time…

  I fight through the pulsing muscles of my throat. “Ivy, yesterday at dinner, I—”

  “What the fuck have you done?”

  The deep, masculine tone causes the hairs on the back of my neck to rise.

  “Chase,” Ivy gasps, releasing my arms. “I-I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry about Piper.”

  “Get out.”

  Chase's words are clipped, but lethal. I have no idea if he’s talking to Ivy or to me, but either way, he doesn’t own this fucking apartment.

  I swivel to face him. “You’re the one that’s unwelcome here.”

  When I register Chase's expression, I’m shocked I got the words out. Never before have I seen features so flat yet exuding such rage.

  “Ivy,” he says, without tearing his gaze from mine, “I said get out.”

  I grab Ivy's arm. “She doesn’t have to go anywhere.”

  He grits out, “Yes. She does.”

  “Callie, it’s fine,” Ivy says in a small voice, “I can meet you in the lobby.”

  “You can wait in my bedroom,” I say to her, keeping my stare on Chase’s. “Whatever Chase has to say to me, you can be a witness.”

  Chase arches a cold brow. “You want a second ear for what I’m gonna say? Fine. Where were you last night? What did Piper do that got you so enraged you made her bleed?”

  I guffaw. “Are you—is this what I think it is? Are you accusing me of killing her?”

  Chase flinches at the word ‘kill.’ I don’t blame him. It’s a hard word to swallow when it starts relating to your life. Worse than ‘death.’ I recognize the pain behind Chase’s fury, and the grief. But I doubt my kindred spirit will mean anything to him.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” he says, and for a brief moment, his eyes gleam with unshed tears. “To come to this school and fuck it up the way you have?”

  Chase steps closer, his large body overshadowing mine. I don’t cower. I hear Ivy back up a step, then two, but she slides my hand off her forearm and into hers. And squeezes.

  “I’ve done nothing,” I hiss in his face. His anger billows over me with hot breaths. “You’re hurting, Chase. You’re furious and upset. I can understand that. I’m sorry Piper’s gone”—it still sounds so unreal coming from my throat—“but I won’t be your punching bag.”

  “What, you think you know me now?” His eyes transform the tears into glimmering animosity. “Because your mom’s been killed and Piper’s dead, now we’re warm and fuzzy friends?”

  I flinch. “I don’t give a shit what you think.”

  Sliding my hand from Ivy’s, I storm to the front door, but Chase catches me by the elbow and spins me into his chest, his other hand cupping the back of my neck and pulling at my hair until we’re eye-to-eye.

  Ivy shouts a warning, but it does nothing to stop him.

  This is nothing like it was at the docks. There’s no sunlight streaming down, no hint of an angel now.

  I’m in the grip of a demon.

  “She’d still be alive if you never came here,” he snarls.

  “You’re the one who was supposed to be her boyfriend,” I retort. We’re both heaving, and a fucked-up, secretive section of my heart wonders if he’s pulsing with twisted heat the way I am. “Her protector. What was it you said to me when you splayed yourself across that couch over there like an entitled prick? You look out for her. Well, look where she is now.”

  I’ve hurt him. I see it in the flash of rage that washes across his overly schooled expression. His hand clenches on my hair where he holds me, and his eyes grow so everlastingly cold.

  I may have gone too far, but with such burning confusion inside me, there’s no other way to release it. It’s all too much, too soon.

  The silence between us is thick and nauseating, but neither of us will break.

  The weight of Ivy's hand comes down on my shoulder. “Chase, please. Callie, come on. We need to…”

  “You have no idea. None.” Chase tightens his hold, and an unwilling gasp leaves my throat. “If you thought this is done—if not having Piper around would give you a reprieve—you’re wrong. I’m about to get started with you.”

  I snap out, “You can watch me tremble another time. Now get the hell out of my room.”

  A light knock startles us both, and our heads whip to the sound. A plainclothes detective stands there, with a shield around his neck. Two uniformed officers are behind him.

  The detective with the gray hair and rugged face looks between Ivy and me. “Is one of you Calla Lily Ryan?”

  “Yes,” I say, and disengage from Chase like he’s coated with snake venom.

  Surprisingly, he lets me go, but he saunters back with a malicious grin maligning one side of his face. What he wants to do to me is obvious in the shape of his lips. He wants to devour me. Destroy me.

  “It starts now,” he says, then twists to the police. He points at me. “She did it.”

  My mouth falls into an O as the policemen part to let Chase through. The detective doesn’t take his attention off me as he steps aside.

  “Miss Ryan? We have some questions for you regarding the death of your roommate,” he says, and a lump forms in my throat.

  A lump the size of a rock at the base of a cliff.

  22

  Detective Haskins wants to question me? I tell him he can, so long as I have a guardian present and it’s conducted on neutral territory.

  That’s when he informed me Dad and Lydia were on a babymoon in Tahiti and couldn’t be present for any questioning. And Ahmar was too far away of a drive for Haskins to wait.

  Faced between dealing with Haskins’s stern face alone or having a teacher present in substitution of a legal guardian, I asked for Dr. Luke to sit beside me in the empty classroom they directed me to. He seems the friendliest of the faculty, and the one likely to take my side if things go awry, since I doubt Professor Dawson, who knows me second-best, has bonded with me enough to want to say anything in my defense, should it come to that.

  I sit at a school desk and Haskins takes a seat across from me. Dr. Luke stands at my elbow, his arms crossed as he studies Haskins.

  I can feel my heartbeat in my fingertips. The silence in the empty classroom doesn’t help. It brings back memories of being sat down on my bed and Ahmar bending in front of me, holding on tight to my elbows.

  We did all we could. She’s gone, kiddo. She’s gone.

  My breaths patter in my
throat like a bird’s wings clipped for a cage.

  None of this is my fault. I’m not in trouble.

  Or so I thought. Yesterday’s fight with Piper is glaringly present in my mind’s eye, blurring the shining floors beneath me into a transparent movie screen where I elbow Piper in the face and she screams, blood pouring out of her nostrils.

  I swallow. I want Ahmar here.

  Don’t go back in there, Calla. Stay with me. Cry it out. I’ll hold on tight.

  I scrunch my eyes shut.

  A hand comes down on my shoulder and squeezes before retreating. It’s Dr. Luke.

  “I’ll keep this brief, Miss Ryan,” Haskins says. He flips through a notebook on the desk, his pen poised as he starts by taking down my basic information. Then, he asks, “When did you last see Piper Harrington?”

  “At dinner,” I whisper, but force my voice to come forth to admit, “We had a fight.”

  “That’s a start,” Haskins says as he scribbles something down. “We know about that from Piper’s friends. I’m glad you’re being honest.”

  I nod, aware that being truthful about any friction with the victim is the fastest route to clearing my name and having them move on to someone else.

  “Where were you this morning between one and three AM?” Haskins asks.

  “In bed,” I say. “I fell asleep packing.”

  Dr. Luke’s head tips in my direction. “Packing?”

  “I’ll be the one to ask the questions, Doctor, thank you,” Haskins says. “So, Callie, you were in the apartment you shared with Piper? All night?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t go to the party at the cliffs like the rest of ‘em?”

  I lift my head up. “Huh?”

  Dr. Luke’s hand squeezes my shoulder again. “Miss Ryan’s new to this school, Detective. She might not have been made aware of the mischief these kids get up to once the moon’s out. It was a small gathering, anyway, kids Piper Harrington ran around with. I was the professor who found them and broke it up. I’d come from the professors’ lodging at around one, and for the record, I didn’t see Miss Harrington there. The kids assured me she left the party early because she wanted to go home to be alone.”

  The longer Dr. Luke’s friendly explanation goes on, the more Haskins’s features harden. “I’ll get to you in due time, Doctor. If you’ll let me do the talking?”

  Dr. Luke clears his throat. “Apologies. Go ahead.”

  “Dr. Luke’s right,” I pipe up. “I’m not cool enough to be invited to those kinds of things.”

  “Yes, you and Piper rubbed each other the wrong way, didn’t you?”

  “We didn’t become instant friends upon meeting,” I admit.

  “So, did you see her at all? Did Piper come back to your room after your argument at dinner?”

  I shake my head.

  “How about after the party?” Haskins glances down at his notes. “Those kids have corroborated Dr. Luke’s statement that she left early because she didn’t feel well.”

  Probably because I’d recently bashed her nose in. I flinch at the thought but cover it up in hopes Haskins doesn’t read any guilt on my face.

  “She refused to be accompanied back, so the rest of the students dispersed around 1 AM,” he says.

  Again, I shake my head. “I didn’t hear her come back. I had my door shut, though.” And locked. “She could’ve come in and left and I wouldn’t have known.”

  “Tell me about the altercation between you two. Why was Piper angry and upset?”

  At last, the petty reason behind our fight comes into good use. “She accused me of stealing her boyfriend.”

  My words have their intended effect. Haskins lips lift briefly in what appears as a tired sigh. Dr. Luke frowns.

  “And you assaulted her,” Haskins says.

  I’m talking to the bald spot on his head, since he hasn’t lifted his attention from his notepad. “I was defending myself. She threatened me.”

  “And yet, this is not the first time you’ve been involved in similar conflict. Your friend from back home—Sylvie Teegarden—you were with her when she overdosed, correct?”

  Acidic drops of unease plink into my belly. “That has nothing to do with … Piper and I started off with a misunderstanding. Piper explained it that way when Professor Dawson found us. And again, during detention. Right, Dr. Luke?”

  “Miss Ryan’s telling the truth.” Another shoulder pat, though slower this time, as news of my checkered past sinks in. “Miss Harrington also expressed to me they worked out their differences.”

  “Mmm. Until new differences came up.” Haskins lifts his gaze. “Who’s the guy?”

  “Chase Stone,” I say, without hesitation. She did it, that bastard had said.

  “The boy who…?”

  I give a sharp nod. “The one who was in my dorm room when you arrived and accused me, yep.”

  “Looks like you have some differences with him, too.”

  “Of a sort.” I pick at invisible lint on my cardigan. My face is too pinched and vindictive to look at Haskins head-on. “Are you questioning him, too? He and Piper were close for a long time.”

  “I plan on talking with him.” Haskins cocks his head. “You can relax, Callie. You’re not in trouble. Right now, we’re going through all the steps of an investigation, but it’s appearing that, well, Piper was the last one at the cliff. Dr. Luke may not have seen her, but all the kids we accounted for insisted she was with them at the beginning. She may have gotten turned around. I hear visibility isn’t so good around there at night.”

  So, she either fell or she jumped, and no one noticed, is left unsaid between us.

  I’m practically digging a hole in my sweater, so I drop my hand. “I’m sorry. This whole thing has me … upside-down. I can’t believe it’s real.”

  “I pulled your history,” Haskins says, his voice sobering. “I apologize for dragging you through this again, but you understand why it’s so important we chat.”

  Chat. Like we’re old friends catching up on death. “I do.”

  “Any other reasons why Piper might’ve been upset, or was this just about boyfriend stealing?”

  “I’ve known her for a little over a week, sir. And I wasn’t stealing Chase. We’re not—we were never together. Piper and I may not have liked each other, but I’d never hurt her.”

  “Indeed. Well, so far, we have witness statements in your favor, and they line up with what you’ve told me this morning. Piper threatened you, and assaulted you, on both occasions as well. You were the victim, too. We also have video of you coming into your dorm yesterday evening, and no video of you leaving, so that lines up with your statement of not being at the illegal gathering. But you can see why that may not be sufficient.” Haskins crosses his legs. “Briarcliff Academy is known for its hidden passages.”

  All of this is news to me. My stomach curdles uncomfortably at the realization that Haskins doesn’t know I was the last one to throw a punch … because no one’s told him about Piper’s accusations about me vandalizing her room or scribbling lipsticked threats on our bathroom mirror. All concocted by Piper’s scheming mind, but Haskins wouldn’t know that. And it’s nothing I can prove as fake, especially when I’ve done the opposite of endearing myself to the Briarcliff student body.

  So, why hasn’t anyone told him of the last words she’d said to me?

  “Who are the witnesses?” I ask. The dining hall was sparse when I was there. “Piper’s friends?”

  “Technically, it’s confidential, but…” Haskins waves his hand like I’m getting close.

  I frown.

  Why would Piper’s friends ever want to help me?

  “Am I under arrest?”

  “No, and I’m hoping we’ve established the type of rapport for your continued honesty.”

  I nod as if a puppeteer holds my strings, and move to a stand, assuming that was my dismissal.

  “We’re done here for now.” Haskins closes his leat
herbound notebook. I stand, the hollowness widening in my chest.

  I’m not about to mention the roses, or Piper’s continued harassment, because I have the uneasy certainty that it’ll be used against me as motive. And I have no idea if Piper’s responsible for the secret messages, or if the Cloaks have something to do with it … should I tell Haskins about the bonfire I witnessed?

  I’m questioning the relevancy of it when Dr. Luke chimes in.

  “There’s an assembly in the large lecture room, Miss Ryan. Headmaster Marron and the guidance counselor will be discussing Piper’s tragedy.”

  It’s weird, yet inevitable, that Dr. Luke is using Piper’s first name. It makes the finality of her death more apparent, and I’m nauseous at the thought.

  “You’re all right?” he prompts.

  Again, I bob my head, but it’s a mechanical motion.

  “You and her didn’t get along, but the school would understand if this affected you,” Dr. Luke says. As he walks over, he lays a light hand on my forearm. “If you need to take the day, I can let the headmaster know, and you can see Mrs. Maisey in private, when you feel comfortable.”

  “Thank you, but no,” I say. “I’ll go through the motions today. It … it doesn’t seem real yet.”

  Haskins clears his throat. “Thank you for your candor, Callie. Here’s my card if you think of anything else.”

  I take it automatically, shoving it in my inside blazer pocket.

  Haskins says to my retreating back, “Don’t stray too far with that luggage you were packing. I expect you to be available.”

  With the way he says it, I wonder if Haskins reads more into Piper’s and my friction than I initially thought.

  “Of course. You have my number,” I say, then retreat out the door.

  My worries over further questioning from Haskins fade the faster I take the path away from the main building and in the opposite direction to the Assembly Hall.

  I’m leaving this place, this school with too many ill intentions weaved between its textbook lines. Piper’s tragic death solidifies it, as if the roses, rats, and bullying didn’t already. I pick up speed, prepared to bag the rest of my things and drag them out front until an Uber comes to get me.