I can only imagine what that video shows of me in a drunken state, drugged from something he slipped me.
My stomach churns at the thought.
I pull my hand out from beneath my lap and wrap it around my torso, slumping forward slightly to ease the nausea.
Cross shifts beside me, and I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.
That’s all it takes for him to break the cold silence. “So that’s your type? Rich pricks?”
He strikes a nerve, a gasp dropping from my mouth. I snap my attention to him, and as much as I want to blurt out the truth, I choose indifference instead. He knows more than enough about me at this point. He isn’t getting anything else.
“Everyone is rich at Yale,” I quip.
He snorts and adjusts himself again in the driver’s seat. A wince digs into the shadows across his face, and for a split second, I feel bad. The fight was short-lived, but Nick got a few hits in. With every right hook to Cross’s jaw, my heart would skip a beat.
“Do you know what video he’s referring to?” he asks.
My spine straightens. I bite into my bottom lip to keep it from trembling with fear, or maybe anguish? Probably both.
Nicholas took a part of me that I’ll never be able to get back. As much as I don’t want to let his actions ruin that zest of lifethat ran within, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to trust another person as much as I blindly trusted him.
“You do know,” Cross says quietly. “I can tell by your body language.”
I look out the window while arguing, “No, you can’t.”
He snorts. “You’re easy to read, Scar.”
I jerk my head over to him, a wave of nausea cresting in my stomach.
He makes a face. “I mean…Scarlett.”
We stare at each other until a pair of headlights comes into view. My heart races, and I bring my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. Cross makes a noise that resembles a low growl before snatching the envelope full of money from the center console. He holds it tightly in his grip and opens his door.
The cool air swoops into the car, making me tremble even harder.
Loose gravel crunches under his weight, and I move to unclick my seatbelt, but before I can do so, he leans down, and we catch eyes. “Lock the door.”
I furrow my brow. “You don’t want me to go with you?”
A sarcastic chuckle leaves him. “And reward him by letting him look at you again?” His sinful smile disappears. “Lock the door.”
He straightens, but before he can shut the door, I blurt out, “Cross.”
He lowers himself again, his face pulled taut with impatience.
“I’ll pay you back,” I force out.
He stares at me intently then leaves me alone in the car. He strides across the lot with his shoulders straight. I envy his confidence in this situation.
I quickly hit the lockbutton, checking over my shoulder just in case. There’s no one there. I swivel back just as the passengerdoor of the other car opens. Cross hands off the envelope to someone other than Nicholas.
The coward is probably inside the car, opposite of ours, with his sights on me. My skin crawls.
I slump down farther in my seat, out of view. Cross was right to have me wait here. Even the thought of his eyes in my direction sends me into a complete spiral.
“Why are you so jumpy?” Sawyer asks, her eyes crinkling on the sides with suspicion.
“Me?” I ask, playing stupid. “I’m not jumpy!”
