Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [134]
Her dreams had shattered, though, after spotting him with Kaci. Flirting with her. Rubbing it in Maeve’s face.
Maybe it was a test.
To see just how deep her love was, her adoration.
Didn’t he know that she would do anything for him, even if it meant sacrificing herself?
Wasn’t that the way love worked?
Maeve was no longer sure. She had gone to her group counseling session with Dean Williams and tried to participate, but the discussion about the strength of a woman in a relationship had cut too close to the bone tonight.
And even though she was supposed to go with her partner back to the dorm, she’d ducked out. Her “security partner” hadn’t cared. That’s the way it was with Crystal; she didn’t really give a damn about anyone but herself.
Which worked out just fine, because Maeve didn’t need any prying eyes or questions.
She felt the knife tucked deep in her boot and smiled to herself. If things didn’t work out, there was always the comfort of the sharp little blade, a special glinting solace in seeing her own blood ooze in a perfect line against her skin.
Her hand was cold, getting numb, because she had to push up her sleeve to snap the rubber band at her wrist. But she could wait. She let the sleeve fall down now, knowing there would be satisfaction.
Either Ethan.
Or the blade.
She only hoped that he would prove himself tonight, that he would truly be Romeo to her Juliet. She remembered a quote, dark, jeweled words that touched her as she walked through the snow and thought of Ethan…perfect, handsome Ethan.
“These violent delights have violent ends….”
CHAPTER 34
Run! Run! Run!
Jules ran through the thick drifts of snow.
She felt as if she was being chased, run to the ground, that someone knew.
“That’s crazy,” she whispered to herself, but couldn’t help thinking Taggert or Takasumi or even Lynch might be on her trail.
Did she hear footsteps behind her?
Oh, God, please no!
She propelled herself even faster, her boots slipping, the handle of the carrier cutting through her gloves.
Skirting the pools of light cast by the security lamps, Jules, breathless, hauled the damned firewood carrier down the path as she raced toward Trent’s cabin. Briefly, scared out of her mind, she considered ditching the carrier, but the pages were still too hot to tuck under her jacket and might fly away in the gusting, screaming wind.
So she took a chance, one hand curled in a death grip over the handle, the other stabilizing the top file so that she lost none of the precious, probably damning, pages.
What would they reveal?
What secrets did they hold that the director of the school had tried to destroy them?
Keep moving! Don’t think about it.
At every corner, she tensed, certain someone would leap out from behind a snow-covered hedge or up from beneath a bench where a deranged killer lay in wait. Or she would be accosted by one of the teams of security guards roving the grounds.
Gun-shy after being confronted with Takasumi and Taggert, she was doubly careful as she threaded her way through the trees.
Even so, she still felt as if someone was watching her, following her. Biting her lip, not giving in to the fear, she kept running and prayed that the harsh curtain of snow falling steadily from the heavens would conceal her.
Crunch!
Oh, God, she was certain she heard footsteps.
She ran faster, plowing through the snow.
If she could just get to Trent.
She would be safe.
Right?
Crunch. Crunch.
Oh, dear God…
She flew by a thicket of pine trees and her heart raced ever faster as she thought about the murders. Why would anyone kill Nona and Drew?
Because of what they knew.
And maybe what you’re carrying in these files might shed some light on the killer’s motive. Keep running! For God’s sake, keep running!
Her lungs burned, arctic cold searing her airways. What