Chapter 59
Ellie's POV
Jackson must have sensed it because he leaned back slightly, his voice dropping low enough that only I could hear. "You want me to call campus security?"
"No." I shook my head. "She's drunk and she's upset. She just needs to sleep it off."
"She grabbed you." His tone was flat, but I heard the anger underneath. "She tried to hit you."
"I know." I finally looked down at my arm.
The skin where Samantha's bracelet had pressed was red and blistered, the clear outline of the silver links burned into my flesh like a brand. It was already starting to heal—faster than it should, faster than any human injury would—but the damage was obvious.
Jackson's jaw tightened. His eyes, when they met mine, held questions I couldn't answer.
Not here. Not now.
"I'm fine," I said quietly. "Really."
A lie, but a necessary one.
Lucas had finally gotten Samantha to stop crying long enough to listen. He was talking to her in low, urgent tones, one hand on her shoulder, the other gesturing back toward the bar entrance. She was nodding, wiping at her face, letting him guide her toward the door.
As they passed us, Samantha shot me a look of pure venom. But underneath the anger, I saw something else.
Fear. Confusion. Desperate, clawing panic.
Lucas met my eyes for just a second. His expression was unreadable—guilt and anger and something that might have been apology all mixed together.
Then they were gone, disappearing into the bar.
The patio erupted into conversation the moment they left. Everyone talking at once, phones still out, probably already posting to Campus Whispers or whatever gossip platform was trending this week.
I stood there, cradling my burned arm against my chest, and felt the adrenaline start to drain away.
Jackson turned to face me fully. "You okay?"
"Yeah." My voice came out steadier than I expected. "Yeah, I'm okay."
"Your arm—"
"I'll take care of it." I forced a smile. "I've had worse."
His eyes narrowed, but he didn't push. Instead, he jerked his head toward the bar entrance. "Come on. Let's get you back inside."
The interior of The Crow's Nest felt jarring after the tension of the patio—warm lights, loud music, the press of bodies and buzz of alcohol-loosened conversation. Like stepping from a battlefield into a party.
Our friends spotted us immediately. Lily jumped up from the booth, her face creased with concern.
"Oh my God, what happened? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." I slid into the booth, tucking my injured arm out of sight. "Just... Samantha being Samantha."
"I saw someone posting about a fight." Megan was already scrolling through her phone, her expression darkening. "Ellie, there's video. It's all over Campus Whispers."
"Of course there is." I dropped my head back against the booth. "Of course."
Jake leaned over to look at Megan's screen, then whistled low. "Wow. She really went for you, didn't she? And is that... is Lucas's eyes actually glowing in this?"
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"Here, right at the end—" Megan turned her phone to show me.
I watched the shaky video, my heart sinking with every second. There was Samantha grabbing my arm. There was me breaking free. There was the attempted slap, Jackson catching her wrist, the whole confrontation playing out in grainy phone footage.
And there, just before Lucas pulled Samantha away, was a clear shot of his face.
His eyes were definitely glowing. Not obviously, not enough that a casual observer would necessarily notice, but enough that anyone looking closely—anyone who knew what to look for—would see something was off.
"Trick of the light," I said quickly. "The patio lamps do weird things to eye colors."
"Huh." Jake didn't sound convinced, but he didn't push. "Well, regardless, Samantha looks completely unhinged. I don't think anyone's going to be on her side after this."
"Okay, enough about that mess." Megan pulled a velvet pouch from her purse with a flourish, her eyes sparkling. "I brought my tarot deck tonight. Who wants their cards read? I promise it'll be way more fun than watching drama videos."
"Oh, hell yes!" Ryan leaned forward eagerly. "I want to know if I'm gonna pass Professor Mitchell's midterm."
Lily laughed, already reaching for the deck. "Can you read about whether I'll regret my spring course schedule? Because I'm pretty sure I'm going to."
Jake grinned. "This is either going to be really enlightening or really entertaining. Either way, I'm in."
Jackson appeared beside the booth, a glass of water in one hand and what looked like a first aid kit in the other. He set both in front of me without a word.
I stared at the supplies, then up at him. "Where did you—"
"Bar keeps one behind the counter." He slid into the booth next to me, close enough that our shoulders touched. "Let me see your arm."
"It's fine—" I don't want to ruin everyone's night.
"Hey." Jackson raised his voice slightly, addressing the table. "You guys go ahead and start. I'll get Ellie patched up and we'll join in a minute."
"You sure?" Lily asked, already shuffling closer to Megan's tarot deck.
"Yeah, go on." Jackson waved them off with a small smile.
The tension around the table eased immediately.
I felt my shoulders relax slightly, grateful that Jackson had given them permission to move on.
"Let me see," he said quietly, turning back to me.
I hesitated, then slowly extended my arm.
The burn was worse than I'd thought. The silver had left clear blistering marks in the shape of Samantha's bracelet, the skin around it red and inflamed.
Jackson's expression darkened. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small tin—the same silver-burn ointment he'd used last time.
He carried it with him. Again.
My heart did a strange flutter as I watched him open the tin with practiced ease.
Jackson worked quickly and efficiently, applying the ointment with gentle fingers. The cooling sensation was immediate, soothing the burning pain. He wrapped a small bandage around my forearm, then closed the tin and tucked it back into his jacket.
"Better?" he asked softly.
"Much better. Thank you."
He gave me a small nod, then gestured toward the table where Megan was dramatically shuffling her tarot deck. "Come on. Let's see what the cards have to say."
I couldn't help but smile as we turned our attention to the game, the weight of the patio confrontation finally beginning to lift.