Athena

51. The Door's Unlocked

Suzie's email lights a fire under my ass.

A sense of urgency chases me up the stairs. Cruz jogs closely behind me as I make a beeline for my bedroom. Once we reach the landing, I take a glance at the door to the master bedroom. Cruz's gaze darts in the same direction. The door is closed. Ron and Aunt Katrina appear to be zonked out for the night, but Cruz and I make every effort to stay silent. We've been lucky. So far. Ron has yet to catch on to our nightly sleepovers. In a way, I feel like a criminal who keeps getting away with murder.

Will our luck run out before graduation?

I hope not. I just need fate to be on my side for a few more months. Until Cruz and I turn eighteen. Then, we'll be out of Arizona and, hopefully, somewhere on the east coast with Persie. The three of us. Together. For good.

With cautious steps, Cruz and I creep down the shadowy hallway toward my room. Once we make it past my doorway, I hurry over to the edge of my bed and plop down. Cruz shuts the door and takes a seat beside me. Soon, my worries about Ron are pushed aside. It's time to focus on more pressing matters.

Gripping my phone as though my sanity depended on it, I stare down at the glowing screen. It's the only source of light in my darkened room, and Suzie's message is burning holes in my eyes. My heart hammers away. I hadn't expected to hear from her tonight. In fact, I didn't think she would reply to me, like, ever. Chewing on my lower lip, I reread Suzie's email a few more times.

I found your note in my room. Who are you? What tf did Brody do to you?

How do I reply to her?

Anxiety starts fucking with me. My thoughts go haywire. Earlier, I tried to track down Suzie at Jonathon's party, but, now that she's actually contacting me, I feel uneasy about opening up to a complete stranger. I hate that I'm acting like such a wishy-washy bitch, but memories from Sam's party get the better of me. Surges of hazy sound bites, like Chrissa's shrill laughter, and sensory details, like Brody's weight pressing down my body, pop up in unwelcome blips and bloops. The thought of revisiting those terrifying, debilitating hours in my life makes me feel sick.

Doubts begin to shit all over my nerves.

What if Jonathon was right and Brody never touched Suzie?

What if Suzie doesn't believe me?

What if Chrissa and Brody find out that I broke our agreement?

Feeling restless and agitated, my body instinctively gravitates toward Cruz, and his arm wraps around my shoulders. I lean against his strong, solid warmth for support.

My eyes drift toward him as I mumble, "I dunno how to respond to Suzie's email."

Gently, he grunts, "How come?"

I hang my head in shame. "What if Suzie can't be... trusted? I'm scared this might circle back to bite me in the ass."

His larger hand reaches over to envelope mine, giving me a lovely, comforting squeeze. "Anything worth doing is supposed to be a little scary."

"You sound like a fortune cookie," I joke with a feeble chuckle, attempting to use humor to hide my fears.

Cruz looks at me from the shadows. Really looks at me. "Maybe you should tell Suzie what you would wanna hear... if you were in her position."

I listen intently.

"Let her know that Brody fucked with you, too. That you're willing to listen to her side of the story. If she wants to talk."

His steady, calming voice advice over my stress like a soothing balm. It reminds me of what's really at stake here. Of what really matters. Of why I tried so hard to get in touch with Suzie in the first place. My feelings are still spiraling out of control, but I try to keep my eyes on the prize: I crave some kind of justice for Suzie and me. Brody deserves to get his ass handed to him. Chrissa, too.