Chapter 68
Camila POV
I needed to talk to him.
Like, now.
This wasn’t something I could just sit on and pretend it wasn’t clawing at my brain. If Ethan really did what I think he did, I had to know. I had to hear it from him, see the look on his face when I asked.
But then I froze.
Because I realized something very, very important.
I didn’t have his number.
Shit.
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. How the hell had I spent this much time around him and never thought to ask for his contact? I mean, sure, I had spent most of that time either avoiding him, yelling at him, or questioning my entire existence because of him, but still. Still.
I paced my room, muttering under my breath. How was I supposed to find him? It wasn’t like I could just summon him. He wasn’t a damn genie.
Or… maybe he was.
With the weird, otherworldly thing he had going on, I wouldn’t even be surprised at this point.
I grabbed my phone and stared at it like it would magically produce his number.
It didn’t.
“Think, Camila. Think.”
Who else would have it?
Tess? No. She had even less interaction with him than I did.
The school? Yeah, because they were totally going to hand over personal information to a girl who was barely keeping
it together.
I groaned again, flopping onto my bed dramatically. Ugh, this was a nightmare.
I needed to find him.
And I needed to do it fast.
Because if I let this fester any longer, I would either (A) drive myself insane, (B) convince myself I was overreacting, or (C) both,
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Chapter 68
Leaving me with only one option.
Going back home was the last thing I wanted to do.
But here I was, standing in the middle of my room, biting my nail, knowing I had no other choice.
I couldn’t wait until Monday. Not after this. I needed answers. And if there was even the slightest chance Ethan had something to do with what happened last night, then I had to find him.
But that meant going back to the mansion.
My Greg’s house.
Mum’s… house.
Their house.
Just the thought of it made my stomach twist. I hadn’t stepped foot in that place in what felt like months (even) though it was barely a couple of days), and I wasn’t sure I was ready to face everything that came with it. The smiles, the stiff conversations, the way my mother acted like everything was fine when we both knew it wasn’t. And Greg? I never liked that man and I think the feeling was mutual.
I exhaled sharply, running my fingers through my hair. It doesn’t matter, Camila. You’re not going for them. You’re going for answers.
Decision made, I peeled off my dress, letting it drop to the floor as I grabbed a fresh towel and some toiletries. A shower. I needed a really good shower before I stepped back into that house. Maybe I could wash away some of the tension squeezing my chest.
I padded down the stairs, heading straight for the bathroom.
The cold tiles sent a small shiver up my spine as I stepped inside, the dim light flickering slightly before settling. I turned on the faucet, letting the water run for a bit, watching the steam curl into the air.
Focus, Camila. One thing at a time.
I stepped under the warm spray, my muscles instantly relaxing as the water cascaded down my body. I hadn’t even realized how tense I was until now. My mind, however, refused to settle,
Ethan.
What if it was him?
It made too much sense. He was the only person who could’ve known what happened last night. The way he always seemed to be watching, knowing things he shouldn’t. And let’s not forget the whole werewolf situation.
I groaned, pressing my forehead against the cool tiles. This is getting ridiculous.
But then again… hadn’t Ethan always been ridiculous? Showing up out of nowhere, acting like he had some claim over me, then disappearing just as fast. And now, suddenly, my aunt’s boyfriend gets the shit beaten out of him the same night he pulls some creepy drunk stunt on me?
Coincidence? I didn’t think so.
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I scrubbed at my skin, as if I could wash away the unsettling thoughts along with the soap suds. But even at I mised off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping myself in a towel, the unease clung to me,
I walked back to my room, my feet padding softly against the wooden floors. The cool air hit my damp skin, making me shiver slightly as I rummaged through my closet. What does one wear when confronting a possible supernatural
stalker?
I settled for a pair of black jeans and a fitted sweater, something simple and comfortable. Not that it really mattered.
It wasn’t like Ethan cared about what I wore.
I sat on the edge of my bed, towel–drying my hair as I stared at my phone. If only I had his fucking number.
I groaned, tossing the towel onto the bed and picking up my phone. Maybe Tess had it? Or one of his weird football friends? But even if I did get it, what was I supposed to say?
“Hey, did you, by any chance, brutally beat the crap out of a guy last night?”
Yeah. That would go over well.
No. I had to do this in person.
That meant going back home.
I chewed my lip, stood up, walked down the stairs, saw my with, the better.
aunt’s car
keys and grabbed it. The sooner I got this over
ཀ 1:|:|: ༩༩༧ | ན པ
The drive to the mansion felt longer than usual, every turn stretching endlessly as my thoughts spiraled. What if Ethan wasn’t even there?
By the time I pulled up to the massive iron gates, my hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles had turned white. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to relax as the gates slowly creaked open.
Here goes nothing.
I parked the car, stepping out and staring up at the towering house. It looked the same–too perfect, too polished, like a museum nobody actually lived in. I used to hate how cold it felt, how impersonal, how… different. But now, standing here again, I felt something else.
Dread.
I walked up the steps, hesitating only for a second before pushing the door open.
The smell of expensive perfume and freshly polished wood filled the air.
“Camila?”
I turned to see my mother standing at the base of the grand staircase, her perfectly styled hair falling over her shoulder as she stared at me in surprise.
Well. Here goes nothing.
