Page 120 of Heart of Thorns

“Stephen practically paved the way. He confirmed that Ben left early the night of your fire. I think he did it, Briar, and I’m going to fucking nail him.”

“Your parents sound nice.” Rhys crosses his legs, watching me paint from across the room. He stayed in that exact spot as I talked on the phone to my parents, too.

“They are,” I reply.

After Thorne and Rhys narrowed down their suspect list with Ben at the very top, I haven’t been left alone. It’s been several days of them taking turns with me. It’s kind of cute. But sort of unnecessary.

Right now, it makes sense.

I’m all by myself in a secluded part of the school, so yeah, I’m happy Rhys is with me.

During class? I don’t really need a babysitter.

Orbodyguardas Rhys likes to call himself.

“So, what? Are you going to paint every part of the school now?” Rhys throws a lonesome baseball up into the air and catches it. He looks up at me from resting along the net of the batting cages. “The other sports programs got wind of the pretty girl in all black who is an amazing artist? They want a cool painting, too?”

“Hey,” I point my paintbrush at him. “Leave my attire out of it.”

He grins and goes back to throwing the baseball up in the air.

I finish blending the green and plop the paintbrush back into the paint bucket. “Has he texted back?”

Rhys grabs his phone.

My stomach is uneasy while I wait for him to answer me.

When our gazes meet, my shoulders fall.No word.

“I don’t like that he’s out tailing Ben by himself.”

He shrugs. “And we don’t like that he tried to kill you when you were all by yourself.”

I frown.Touche.

The night replays in my head from time to time when I let it. But lately, I’ve been focusing on everything frombeforethe fire. My relationship with Ben wasn’t on the rocks, which is why I was confused when he ended up cheating on me. I wasn’t in love with him but I was still a good girlfriend. It doesn’t make sense.

“Hey.” Rhys flips his hat backward and sits forward. “What was the date of the fire again?”

“April twelfth.” A date that will forever be burned into my memory.

“And the time? What time did it happen?”

My stomach falls. Rhys is on edge.

“Just after nine.”

Rhys jumps to his feet, and I drop the lid to the paint can.

“Why?” I wipe my hands on my black jeans, not caring if they get stained with paint, and get closer to him. “What’s wrong?”

Shadows dig into the curves of his furrowed brow from the screen of his phone.

I pull on his arm. “What’s wrong, Rhys?”

“He lied,” he whispers.

“What?”