Liar (Madison Kate #2)(8)
So why did my heart ache so much and my stomach tangle into knots?
I made it up to my room without seeing anyone and let myself quietly inside, closing the door softly behind me. Then did a double take.
Had I walked into the wrong room?
The walls were... normal. Just a plain, off-white, flat paint. Not a sparkle in sight. The soft furnishings had all been replaced too. Muted purples, grays, and blues but not a single speck of pink in sight.
I took a couple of steps into the room, looking around and noting a few of my things that confirmed this was, in fact, my room. Just... renovated.
Who would have done this?
I paused at the window, touching my fingertips to the mirror-like film attached to the glass. I'd be willing to bet that blocked anyone seeing in from the outside, even with a telephoto lens.
Taking in all the changes to my bedroom, I stood there a moment feeling all kinds of conflicted. It was a sweet gesture... wasn't it?
There was no way it'd been Archer, though. No fucking way. Despite the fact that he'd tracked me down to the hotel and essentially given me no choice other than to return here, he didn't actually care about me. That brief moment at Bree's party when we'd given in to the intoxicating tension between us was just that. A moment, and a weak one at that. Archer was hot, no denying that. And he'd have probably been dynamite in bed, but that didn't excuse his shitty attitude and prickly personality.
Even through that whole, intense, heartbreaking "argument" we'd had—when I'd poured out all my pent-up resentment and frustration and hatred—he still hadn't apologized to me. He still had set me up on Riot Night, and he still hadn't learned any kind of remorse for that crappy decision.
My first thought was that Steele had done it. He had offered to get it repainted on my first day in that sparkly pink room, and it seemed like the sweet sort of gesture he'd make. But Archer's words echoed through my mind, filling me with doubt. Maybe he was over me already. One and done, just like that.
Which left Kody. I toyed with that option as I drew the heavy curtains, but at the end of the day, it didn't matter who'd done the remodel. One caring gesture didn't change the fucked up situation we were all in, no matter how much I loved my new room.
With a sigh, I grabbed pajamas from my drawer—exactly where I'd left them—and got changed for bed. It'd already been late when I ventured into the shadows to find Zane, so it was well after midnight now.
Sitting cross-legged on my new purple-gray comforter, I sent a quick text to Bree so she wouldn't freak out in the morning.
Me: Hey girl, I'm still alive. Archer tracked me down and dragged me home. Pick me up for class in the morning?
I turned my phone to silent, not expecting a reply from her at such a late hour, then plugged it in to charge. I flipped my light off and crawled into bed, getting comfy under the inoffensive blankets before I noticed one last feature that'd been added to my room.
A star ceiling.
Tiny pinpricks of light filled the dark expanse of my ceiling, making me feel like I was sleeping outdoors under the star-filled sky.
It was utterly perfect.
4
My dreams were tortured, full of blood and violence. Black-masked killers lurking in every shadow and my mom's dead eyes staring back at me constantly.
When I woke myself up for the third time, thrashing and drenched in cold sweat, I gave up on sleep. Who needed it, anyway?
Instead, I dragged my exhausted, sleep-deprived ass into the shower before the sun was even up. I took a moment after I stepped out of the steaming water to inspect my healing injuries. My stitches in both my stomach and in my hairline had been removed just before I left the hospital, so neither needed dressings. The one on my head was healing nicely, showing just a jagged, red-purple scar, but the slash on my stomach was taking a bit longer. It had been a miracle that the knife had missed anything too vital and hadn't dragged when my attacker removed it. As it was, the scar was only about two inches long to the right of my belly button, but it still ached when I sat up too quickly.
Drying off with my new lilac towel, I went about getting dressed for the day. I'd missed two weeks of lectures. Combined with the two weeks prior to Halloween that I'd stayed home out of fear of my stalker... it was a miracle I was still enrolled. Unless I wanted to royally fuck my future—worse than it was already fucked—I needed to get my head on straight.
No more distractions. No more gorgeous, infuriating men playing with my emotions, and for the love of God, no more stalker mail.
Of course, that was just wishful thinking.
As I made my way downstairs for breakfast, the sound of Kody's voice echoed from the gym, and my stomach flipped.
Damn it.
Drawn like a magnet, I found myself drifting down the corridor to where the door to the gym stood open, allowing his voice to travel through the house like it had.
"Again!" he barked, and when I peered around the door frame, I found Archer running through some kind of gruelling workout drill. "Pick up the pace, Archer," Kody ordered, his voice cracking like a whip. "Push yourself. You're slacking off."
My brows rose. Archer was drenched in sweat, his ink-covered arms and chest slick and his shorts hanging low on his hips. I was no expert, but I was pretty sure he was giving it his all.
"You lost that fight, Arch," Kody railed on his friend. He was standing over him wearing nothing but a pair of red basketball shorts himself, and the sweat coating his chiselled abs suggested he'd been pushing himself just as hard.