Saven Deception (16 page)

My head lolls back and forth. Slumping
forward, my whole world goes black.

***

Cool air drifts over me and I murmur in relief. Twisting
onto my side, I moan as damp, bristly strands of odorless fake grass graze the
skin at my waist. Slowly opening my eyes, I struggle to make sense of my
whereabouts. Bursts of dazzling color swim in front of my eyes. As my vision
clears, I detect the side of the tall apartment building. I try to lift my head
but it feels like a dead weight on my shoulders.

“Let me help you,” Logan says. I flinch at
his close proximity. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper before. I promise I won’t
hurt you.” His hand slips underneath my upper back. I want to push him away but
I can’t summon the energy.

With measured gentleness, he helps me into
a seated position. My legs feel boneless stretched out in front of me. If I didn’t
know better, I’d swear a ten-ton load of bricks fell out of the sky on top of
me.

“Can you walk?” I shake my head because I
don’t have the energy to form words. “I’m going to carry you, okay?” I don’t
acknowledge him in any way. Logan’s strong arms slide underneath my thighs and
I’m hoisted into the air. My head drops to his chest, and tiny goose bumps
appear on my bare arms, but I can’t rouse a hint of embarrassment at the fact
he’s clearly stripped my hoodie away meaning I’m only in a flimsy camisole.

He moves so fluidly that it barely feels
like we’re walking. Opening my eyes briefly, I immediately notice the dark
night sky encroaching on all sides.
How long was I out of it for?
My
eyelids are heavy and they flutter closed again. Logan’s citrusy scent invades
my nostrils and crowds out all other senses. The barely there jostling
movements of his walk send me to sleep.

When I wake again, I’m tucked in my bed,
the comforter pulled right up to my chin. A yawn escapes my mouth. A rustling
noise in close proximity stalls my beating heart. Clamping my eyes shut, I pray
it isn’t Dante.

A delicate hand smooths my hair back
behind my ear, and I cry out in alarm. My eyes flit open, and I stare into
beautiful blue eyes that are starting to look all too familiar. Logan’s face shows
his concern. “Get out,” I slur. My tongue feels like it’s glued to the top of
my mouth, and the words feel foreign as they slip out. I lose the battle with
consciousness again and drift back into slumber.

The sounds of scuffling wake me the next
time. The room is pitch-black and I’ve lost all concept of time. Loud bangs,
quiet grunts, and moving footsteps prick my ears. Jenna pleads with unnamed
voices before I black out again.

Yellow beams of sunlight flood my bedroom
in a haphazard sequence. Squinting, I rub my eyes and slowly allow my eyesight
to adjust to the brightness of the early morning sun. I pull myself up in the
bed and scan my room. I’m alone. Flashes of hazy memories swamp my mind, and I
struggle to piece together the events of last night.

A barrage of puzzling questions slaps me
in the face.

Was Logan in my bedroom? And did he really
carry me all the way here from the garden? How did I black out? And what was
going on in the middle of the night? And what about Jarod? He was waiting for
me and I stood him up.

Groaning, I swing my legs off the bed and
test them on the ground. My limbs ache as if I’ve been in the worst girl-fight
in history, and my head pounds as if I was partying twenty-four-seven. Having
never had as much as a cold in my life, I’m ill-equipped to deal with these
gross feelings. Standing on shaky legs in my panties and camisole, I squirm at
the possibility Logan put me to bed.

Miraculously, I make it into the bathroom
without collapsing. I perch on the edge of the tub while I wait for it to fill.
I’d love someone to explain to me what the hell is going on. But first things
first. I need to make myself presentable for school, get some food into me, and
then start seeking out the answers I need.

I soak in the tub for longer than
necessary, but I still barely feel human.

Aches and pains torment me, so I knock
back a couple of painkillers and then dress and eat quickly.

I stand anxiously outside Jenna’s room,
debating how to play this. Wiping my clammy hands down the front of my pants, I
knock on her door. After a minute’s silence, I knock again, louder this time.
“Jen. It’s me. Can we talk, please?”

Still nothing and now I’m starting to get
annoyed. It’s not as if I’m the one who needs to apologize, and there’s no way
I’m groveling. “If you don’t answer me right now, I’m coming in there.”

I wait two minutes before bounding into
the room. Her bed is neatly made, and it looks like it hasn’t been slept in.
Strange. I was so sure I’d heard her during the night. A heavy layer of
apprehension builds on top of my achy bones.

Finding my digipad, I tap out a quick
message to Jenna. Then I type a note to Jarod, apologizing for standing him up
last night.

I’m stuffing items into my book bag when
there’s a knock on the apartment door the same moment my D-pad pings. Racing
across the living space, I open the door and let Haydn in. “Give me a minute.”

Dashing back into my room, I click on the
message icon. It’s from Jarod.

JW: What you talking about?

SO: Me standing you up last night.

JW: Girl, what have you been
drinking?

SO: ???

JW: I said goodbye to you in
the garden and went back to my apartment. You stayed behind to talk to the douche,
remember?

SO: We agreed you’d wait for
me out front. Remember?

JW: Nuh-uh. That’s not how it
went down.

SO: This is ridiculous. Meet
me after work so we can talk.

JW: No problemo. I’ll collect
you from campus at 5.

SO: Sorted. Later.

A second message pings and I open it up.

LC: How are you feeling?

SO: What did you do to me last
night?

LC: Are you taking the day
off? I’ll play truant with you.

SO: Stop changing the subject.
And I’m going to school.

LC: I don’t think that’s wise.
You need to rest.

SO: Like I said, you don’t get
to tell me what to do.

LC: We need to talk.

SO: We already tried that. It
didn’t work out so well for me.

LC: There is stuff you need to
understand.

SO: Are you going to tell me
what happened last night?

LC: Yes, but only if you agree
to meet with me face to face.

“Ughh!” I slump back in my chair,
pummeling my fists against my temples.

“Hey.” Haydn pops his head in the room.
“You okay?”

I bark out a strangled laugh. “No, Haydn.
I’m not okay, but don’t ask me about it, because everyone talks in riddles!” He
stares at me as if I’m deranged. Perhaps I am. “Give me thirty seconds and I’ll
be right there,” I mutter.

I type a quick reply to Logan.

SO: Fine. Meet me at the
campus entrance at lunchtime. But I’m doing this under sufferance. And you
better give me answers.

LC: Or else?

SO: You are intolerable. I’ll
meet you at one.

Haydn and I scarcely talk the whole trip to campus, but
it’s not uncomfortable. I’m too engrossed in my own mind, and feeling far too
ill, to focus on conversing with anyone. I’m grateful he accepts the situation
and doesn’t pry or try to coax me into discussion. He taps away on his D-pad
the whole time we are on the train, and I stare out the window, trying to un-jumble
my jumbled thoughts.

Fern is waiting for me at the campus
entrance. She pulls a face when she spots Haydn by my side. Winding her arm
through mine, she whispers, “Didn’t you get rid of him?”

“Seems he’s not that easy to get rid of.
Besides, he’s harmless enough.”

Haydn’s head whips up and he looks
hyper-vigilant. “I’ll catch you later, Sadie, Fern.” He tips his head to the
side and bends slightly. It’s a weird gesture and we both acknowledge it.

“You sure about that?” Fern tightens her
grip on my arm as we walk the length of the corridor. “I think he’s a bit
strange.”

Oh the irony. “Who the hell isn’t?” I
snort.

***

“I’ll have to skip lunch,” I advise Fern
after our morning classes have concluded.

“How come?”

“I’m meeting Logan.” I purposely avoid her
gaze.

“Whattttt?” She all but shrieks. “Are you
insane?”

“It’s not what you’re thinking, and I
haven’t changed my mind about him. But I need some answers, and he agreed to
tell me over lunch.” It’s as much as I’m prepared to divulge. I’m certain if I
attempt to explain it, I’ll definitely come off looking cuckoo.

“Well then.” She eyes me suspiciously.
“You’ll just have to give me a full report later.”

“Deal. My friends, Jarod and Neve, are
meeting me here this evening. Why don’t you join us? We can all grab something
to eat.”

“Cool. I’m up for that. I’ll catch you in
Business at two.” She leans in for a quick hug and I oblige.

Logan is slouched against the wall as I
approach. Today he’s wearing a plain white T-shirt, denim jeans, and a dark
green sweater that is currently tied low around his waist. He wears the same
red and black sneakers from last night. It’s a totally understated look, but he
rocks it. Ripped taut muscles peek out underneath the sleeves of his shirt, and
every girl who walks by gives him the once over; however, he appears oblivious
to the attention.

Butterflies swarm my belly, and I silently
beg them to go away. I’m still feeling poorly, and I don’t need, or want, the
additional nausea.

“Hi.” I stop beside him.

Pushing off the door, he stretches his
arms out over his head, and I catch a glimpse of his washboard stomach as the
edge of his shirt climbs up. Holey moley. He’s distracting as hell.

“Spot something you like?” He winks at me.

Two red splotches land on my cheeks. I
can’t believe I’ve been caught drooling over him! Unable to form any type of
witty response, I choose to ignore his statement instead. “Where can we talk?”

“I know a place. Walk with me?” He extends
his hand and it hovers invitingly in the air. His knuckle is pinkish-red and
the skin looks slightly torn.

“I’m not holding your hand.” Not if I want
to keep my wits about me.

“Suit yourself. But just so you know,” he
says, leaning in close, “I won’t offer again.”

“You won’t?” I plant my poker face on.
“I’m devastated. How will I ever survive?” I roll my eyes mockingly.

He barks out a short laugh. I start
walking and he falls in step beside me. “Funny thing is, Sadie, you will be.”
There’s a definite mischievous glint in his eye, and I fear I’ve thrown out
some form of silent challenge.

He leads me around the back of the main
campus building to a small outdoor café. Finding a table nestled into an
unobtrusive spot by the corner, he holds out a chair for me. I sit down and he
pushes my chair in.

“Thank you.” What can I say? The boy has
manners.

“What can I get you?”

“A coffee, please.” I drape my book bag
over the edge of my chair and place my hands on the top of the table.

“What about something to eat?” He rests
his elbows on the top of the chair, propping his chin in his hands. Once again,
I’m having a hard time not drooling. “You’re staring, again.”

“You know, a gentleman wouldn’t keep
calling a girl out like that.” I avoid looking anywhere in his vicinity.

“Who said I was a gentleman?” His breath
is warm on my ear and I jump. I hate that I’m so skittish around him, so
affected by his mere presence.

“You’re right. I forgot you’re a cheating
jackass.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish to reclaim them. Holy
hell.
Way to put it out there
.

“What?” He takes a step back. I can’t
decide if he’s amused, angry, confused, or a mix of all three.

“Never mind,” I stutter. “Are you getting
coffee or what?”

“Yes, but when I come back, you’ll explain
yourself.”

Oh, here we go. I purse my lips. “You’re
being bossy again.”

This time
he
rolls his eyes. “How
do ya take it? Black? Couple cubes of kiss my ass?”

“Excuse me?” I stare at him open-mouthed.
“Now you’re just being rude.” I rise, swiping my bag off the chair.

Now he does look confused. “It was a joke,
Sadie. Didn’t you think it was funny?”

“Honestly?” I arch a brow. “I think you’re
bossy and weird and rude and arrogant and—”

“Okay,” he interrupts, eyes wide, holding
up his hands. “Looks like I haven’t made the best first impression. What do you
say we try that again?”

I’m not going to hold my breath, but I
don’t tell him that. “If you want to start off on the right foot, how about
getting me that coffee now? And I’ll take mine with cream and one kiss-my-ass
cube.”

He wets his lips as he smirks and it’s hot
as hell.

God, I have to stop this. It’s like “hot”
and “Logan” have become synonymous with one another in my brain, and that’s not
helping with the whole plan to maintain my distance and keep my virtue intact.

I tap my fingers idly on the tabletop
while I wait for Logan to return. Ten minutes later, I’m wondering whether he’s
harvesting the coffee beans himself. Squinting over my shoulder, I locate him
at the side of the counter, chatting to a tall, stunning brunette. Holding a
cup in each hand, he smiles at something she says. As he moves aside, she grabs
his arm and pulls him in closer. He gestures to the cups and tilts his head in
my direction, but she refuses to let go. Her hands soar up and down his arms,
and out of nowhere, I get all territorial.

Pushing back my chair, I’m on the verge of
marching over there when common sense comes a-knocking. He’s not my boyfriend,
and I’m not the one being cheated on. Let his actual girlfriend deal with his
flirtatious behavior. I’m giving him five more minutes, and if he’s not back,
I’m out of here.

Naturally curious, I continue to watch
their interaction. Logan tries again to break away, but the girl flattens a
hand over his butt and squeezes. My jaw slackens. I cannot believe she’s being
so visibly forward. Logan looks uncomfortable, and I take pity on him.

Keeping calm, I walk up to them with a
sickly sweet smile on my face. “There you are. I thought you’d gotten lost.”

The brunette blatantly looks me up and
down and then resumes gazing at Logan. She stares adoringly at him, all but
dismissing me. “What time will you collect me at later?” she purrs.

“No can do, Ria. I’ve already got plans
tonight.” 

“With who?” She casts a cursory glance my
way. “Not with her?” Her tone and look is incredulous, and my insides ignite in
a second. But I say nothing, lost in well-known feelings.

“Not with Sadie, no.” He shakes his head,
and I feel invisible all over again. “But I am having coffee with her now, and
she already thinks I’m rude, so … goodbye.”

A thunderous look crawls across Ria’s
face, and I can’t help it, I smirk. She glares at me and then, quick as a
flash, swipes one of the cups from Logan’s hands and flings the contents at me.

Burning hot liquid scalds my skin through
my clothes and I scream. Logan moves impressively fast. Shoving the other cup
at Ria, he grabs my shirt at the hem and rips it off in one fluid motion.
Though my skin is red-hot and sweltering, I shriek as every pair of eyes fixate
on me, standing at the top of the café in only my coffee-soaked plain white
bra. Humiliation of the worst kind attacks me on all sides.

Observing my embarrassment, Logan whips
his shirt up over his head and tugs it down over me. I’m in too much physical
and mental pain to appreciate all that he’s got going on, so the fact he’s
momentarily bare-chested goes mostly unnoticed by me. He unties his sweater and
covers himself up. Rumblings of displeasure arise from the largely female
crowd.

“That was bitchy, Ria.” Logan drapes an
arm protectively around me. She mumbles something, but I ignore her as Logan
steers me forward. “Come on. Let’s get you to the nurse’s office.”

Holding my head up with fake bravado, I
walk quickly out of the café, more than anxious to put as much space between me
and this horrifying incident. The sound of chuckling accosts my ears and I
swing around. Dante winks, making a disgusting suggestive gesture with his
hands. A large, shiny purplish-black mark rings his left eye, and I wish I knew
who’d punched him so I could high five them. “Ignore him,” Logan says tersely.

Once we are around the corner, and out of
sight of others, I break down. My whole chest throbs painfully, and that
combined with my pounding head, sore limbs, and memory of my humiliating
ordeal—that will no doubt be all around the campus like wildfire—snaps the thin
thread on my control. Huge wracking sobs escape me and tears stream down my
face.

This dream is turning into a nightmare of
hellish proportions.

“Please don’t cry.” Logan gently pulls me
toward him. Surprisingly, I let him. He wraps one arm around me while his other
hand smooths down my hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” My arms hang loosely at
my sides as I bury my head in his chest. “I’ll kill him,” he grits out a couple
of minutes later, and that effectively distracts me.

“What? Who?” I ease back, tilting my head
to look up at him.

“Nothing.” He swipes his thumb across my
damp cheeks. “You need to get those burns looked at. Come on.”

Taking my hand, he keeps me close all the
way to the nurse’s station; however, I draw the line at letting him come in
with me.

He’s seen more than enough of my
half-naked flesh in the last twenty-four hours.

I have some minor surface burns to my
upper chest and abdomen, and the nurse prescribes strong pain medication and
ointment and dismisses me.

Stepping into the corridor, I’m not
surprised to see Logan sitting on the ground waiting for me. He climbs to his
feet. “What did she say? Are you okay?” Worry lines furrow his brow, and I’m
momentarily caught off guard by his obvious concern.

“I’ll live.” Now that I’ve calmed down,
I’m mortified at how easily I fell apart in his arms. Scratching the top of my
head, I avoid looking at him.

“Sadie.” His finger brushes my chin.
Tilting my head to meet his, he looks earnestly into my eyes. “I’m so sorry
about that.”

“Forget about it. I know I want to,” I
mumble, eyes pinned to the floor.

“I’ll take you home.”

He extends his hand, and I stare at his
long, lean fingers, imagining how they’d feel roaming over the curves of my
body. I squeeze my eyes shut and try to shake the image from my mind. “I have
classes.”

“I’m sure you can be excused. I’ll talk to
the dean.” He moves to walk away.

“No!” I reach out and fist my hand in his
sweater. “I’ll take my pain pills and put on the cream, and I’ll be fine. I
don’t want any special treatment.”

He looks like he’s about to protest again.

“I don’t want to go home. Please.” My eyes
beseech him to drop it.

“Okay, if that’s what you want. Here,” he
says, lifting up my book bag. “I went back for this.”

“Thanks.” I sling the bag over my shoulder
and wince involuntarily.

“Give it here. I’ll walk you to your
class.”

Flattered by his concern, I let him lead
the way. When we reach the lecture hall, he hands me my bag and leaves without
uttering a word.

Tiptoeing into the auditorium, I spot the
back of Fern’s head and drop into the seat beside her. She gives me the once
over. “What the hell happened to you?”

“This bitch threw coffee all over me,” I
whisper.

“Oh my God, are you okay?”

I sniff. “Depends on your definition of
‘okay.’ Logan ripped my shirt off in front of the whole damn café and now half
the campus has seen me in my bra.”