Page 22 of Coveted

Melodramatic comments about my cousin’s death flood his recent posts already. People who barely fucking knew him are trying to act like they were his best friend.

With a twitch of irritation, I scroll further down, pausing at an old photo. Me with Hannah and Parker at Christmas two years ago.

They were smiling, but I wasn’t. Maybe some eerie, unconscious facet of my mind knew that I would soon be the only one left standing.

Grief and anger coil in my gut like a serpent, ready to strike. The empty space they left behind feels like somebody punched a hole through my world. I never wanted siblings, but that was probably because I had Hannah and Parker.

Now I don’t.

Movement on the monitor makes me put aside the phone, existential dread fading in favor of my fascination with Sadie.

She’s switched on her bedside lamp, casting a fiery halo around her.

The camera I attached to her suitcase projects from the top of her wardrobe, where the luggage racks sit.

There’s no sound, only visuals. That’s fine for now. I can cope.

She silences her phone, placing it facedown on the windowsill.

My eyes drift to the time in the bottom corner of the monitor. It’s late. Past midnight. Surely she’ll sleep.

Kicking off her sneakers, she trudges to her cute little single bed.

When she pulls off her sweater, only her sports bra and leggings remain. The smoothness of her skin, even through the screen, makes me want to sink my teeth into her.

A heavy sigh racks her body, like she’s trying to decide whether to stay up and cry, or to get some sleep. She climbs into bed, pulling the covers to her waist. For a long time, she stares straight up at the ceiling.

I see her eyes moving back and forth, her brows furrowed. She’s thinking intensely. Recalling a conversation maybe, or analyzing the events of the day.

Without shifting her gaze, she reaches over to turn off the lamp. The halo dies out and I sort of prefer her like this. Kissed all over by darkness.

As I watch, she moves her hand slowly to her chest. She places her fingers in the exact spot where I touched her, moments before I claimed her ivory pennant.

Sadie keeps her hand there for a long time, blinking thoughtfully at the black ceiling while moonlight edges her features in platinum.

I murmur to her through the screen. “I’m on your mind, aren’t I? You found a corpse today, yet you’re remembering how your body ignited when I touched you.”

As if in answer, she heaves another weary, conflicted sigh. She closes her eyes, letting her hand drop away.

I smile.

CHAPTER 6

Sadie

Chuck Fairchild appraises me from his aged leather chair. “How are you holding up, Sadie? This past week must’ve been difficult for you.”

“I’m fine,” I say, fidgeting with the books in my lap.

The college arranged this counseling session with the student advisor. Chuck seems highly compassionate and so eager to help. I almost feel bad that I don’t feel worse.

“You went to Parker’s funeral yesterday?” he asks. “I thought I saw you there with Juliette and Clara.”

I nod. “I wasn’t sure if I should go, since I didn’t know him. But I went, yes.”

The service was somber and grand. Parker’s father looked right through the various VIPs shaking his hand and murmuring condolences.

Lucan was a silent presence, his brow set and stare distant. Madox and Reeve hardly left his side, fending off photographers and mourners who tried to command his attention for too long. That surprised me. For vile entities, they did seem supportive of their friend.