Sweet Like Revenge

51 - Roses are Red

My heart was hammering inside of my chest, my stomach tangling into too many knots to count. All traces of rational thought were fading away, my mind clouded by images and memories and worst-case scenarios as it tried to make sense of the message like red string on a bulletin board.

I blinked, but the message didn't disappear.

It wasn't paranoia. It wasn't a hallucination.

It was real.

It could only mean one thing. It meant that, finally, my worst fears were being realized.

Someone knew who I was. They knew what I was doing. They knew what I had done. And that someone was out for blood.

A hand fell on my shoulder like a gavel. I jumped, my panic causing me to throw my mobile into the air.

"Elle?"

Another hand rested on my other shoulder. Johnny's calls behind me turned into static as I was sucked into the wide, blue eyes that peered into mine.

My face was drained. I could feel it, feel the color leaving my cheeks and turning them ghostly white. My hands were trembling, and I was sure I was going to be sick.

I was going to be sick all over Sienna's custom-made dress.

"Jesus, Elle." Kat popped up behind her, her tongue orange from the lollipop she'd been sucking on. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

She reached down to pick my phone up from the marble tiles, the movement jolting me back to life.

"No!" I lurched to the ground before she did, retrieving the device and instantly locking it. But the knowledge of what lurked behind the screen burned my palm, scorching my ice-cold skin like a ball of molten rock.

"What's gotten into you tonight?" Sienna mumbled, more to herself than to me. Her brow was creased with more lines than I'd ever seen on her face, her eyes brimming with concern. She was still gripping me tightly, her proximity suffocating me like a thick winter coat. She looked so worried that it almost made me feel worse.

If her tone wasn't convincing enough, then the sincerity gushing from her expression was.

It wasn't her. I was sure of it. It wasn't her who sent the text.

My eyes flew to her right. It could have been Kat. Maybe she was bringing Anonymiss out of retirement. Maybe Anonymiss never left.

But I'd spent too long with that girl not to be able to read her like an open book. She was frozen mid-lick of her lollipop, a deep frown crinkling her soft features. Kat was a terrible liar, and she was always the first to give anything remotely exciting away. It couldn't be her.

I knew without even thinking twice that it wasn't Chontelle. She wasn't passive-aggressive. She was a fighter, and she'd sooner murder me in front of a crowd of thousands than waste her precious time sending an ominous text.

It wasn't them. But the clues were lining up, the pieces of the puzzle snapping into place. My stomach was sinking to the floor. And my gut just knew.

"I need you to meet me in the lounge." My voice was hoarse. So quiet that if my friends weren't standing so close, they wouldn't have heard it over the light music playing overhead.

"The lounge?" Kat repeated, moving her eyes across the lobby and to the dimly lit room on the other side.

I nodded. "In five. Text Chontelle. Text Nate. I'm going to get Cameron—"

"Elle ..." Sienna shook her head, tugging me away from the check-in desk and shielding us behind a potted fern. "What's gotten into you? What's happening? Are you sick?"