Breathless 4 (Breathless #4) Read Free

to
answer at least one of my texts. He had to have his phone near him; I couldn’t
imagine why he wasn’t replying. Scenarios flashed through my head. As
ridiculous as I knew them to be, they were so real in the instant — scenarios of
him being arrested, him committing a crime, or being lynched.
    I had to get out of the room. I couldn’t just stay
there — not without answers, not without at least trying to talk to Johnny
about what my mother had uncovered. She was right about one thing: the Claire
White case was much bigger than just some girl who had been troubled, who
Johnny hadn’t been able to save. Whether or not he had any part in the attack
on her, he hadn’t been entirely forthright with me, and I would have to get the
full truth from him before I could put my mind at rest. He told me he loved me. He told me he’d loved me ever since he set eyes
on me. How could he be as terrible as that and love someone? He’d told me he loved Claire, too.
    As quickly as I had run into the dorms, I found myself
snatching up my keys and ID card, slipping my phone into my pocket, and heading
out of the room. I nearly tripped over my own feet trying to get down the
stairs, too impatient still to wait for the elevator. I didn’t want to run into
anyone. I just wanted to find Johnny, talk to him about everything that was
going on. I didn’t have any idea of what to even believe anymore. How could
someone who was so gentle and sweet have drugged and raped a girl he claimed to
love? How could the charming, polite, smart guy I had fallen head over heels
for be the kind of guy who could bully and torment a girl to death?
    I got to the ground floor, somehow managing to avoid
falling down the stairs after several near-misses when my feet didn’t quite
land fully on a step. My heart was pounding, and I could feel my eyes stinging.
I had to find Johnny. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, convinced I had felt
it vibrate — nothing. I put it back in my pocket; in my panicked state, I
didn’t want to drop it on the cement walkway and break it — that would put me
out of touch with everyone. I tried to slow down the rapidly beating of my
heart and get myself together, but every minute the situation weighed on me
more and more. I started out of the dorms, trying to think of where Johnny
could be. I checked the dining hall first. If
he wasn’t in class, or at the frat, he would be there, I thought. Or at practice. I peered in and didn’t
see him anywhere. I even pissed off one of the workers by not even bothering to
wait in line and swipe my card, instead making a beeline for the dining area to
see if a closer inspection would reveal him.
    When I was sure that Johnny wasn’t there — none of the
hockey players were, nor any of the members of his frat — I started towards the
gym, thinking he might be training, working out to prep for another game. If he
was, that would make it harder to get him alone, but I absolutely had to try. I
hurried off across the campus, my blood roaring in my ears and my eyes burning
and tingling with tears I was on the edge of shedding. It was so hard to hold
them back. I had to keep a hold of myself. I had to keep my composure until I
could get Johnny alone, until I could talk to him. I told myself that it had to
be a misunderstanding, that I would confront him about it and that he would
tell me everything.
    There was no one in the gym. I checked my phone again,
staring at my screen, opening up the lock screen just to make sure I hadn’t
missed anything. I clenched my teeth, trying to make myself breathe through my
nose slowly and steadily. I couldn’t think where else Johnny could be. Why isn’t he answering my texts? I had a
sudden paranoid thought that he knew exactly why I was trying to get in touch
with him and that he was avoiding me, just like I had avoided him when I had
been under the impression that he was some kind of sociopathic abuser. You don’t know that he isn’t. Maybe being
sweet