Storm reaches around me and plucks one of the drinks from my hand. The condensation on the outside of the cup makes it impossible for me to hold onto it but when I whirl around to tell him that one is mine—I already drank out of it, evidenced by my matte pink lipstick stain—he’s got the white straw in his mouth. Over my lip print.
He watches me as he drinks from it.
I open my mouth to scold him, but his lips around the straw and his gaze locked in on mine makes me feel oddly dizzy and horny and…
He pulls back from the straw, then touches his tongue to his top lip before he runs it over one canine tooth and I notice how pointed it is, more like a vampire fang than a human tooth. The way he’s looking down his nose at me, his jawline is impeccable and his throat with the gold chain around it is?—
“Remi isn’t here.” His voice sounds hoarse, kind of like Caspian’s actually. Like he didn’t sleep or slept too much. Based on the shadows beneath his eyes and the makeshift bed on the couch, I’m going to guess the latter. “So you should go.”
I frown. “Where is she?”
He takes another drink from my PSL.His,now, I guess. “I reckon she’s halfway to Beckley by now.”
West Virginia. Cortland’s dad and brother live there. What the fuck? She wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye, would she? Even just through a text or something?
“Why? She didn’t tell me she was going.” We hadn’t made plans but she’d told me I could come over any time on the weekend and she never texted me to tell me she wouldn’t be here. What the fuck?
“She didn’t know until this morning.”
“Stop making me drag answers out of you. What’s going on?” I gesture with my free hand to his side. “And what happened?”
“They decided to start fall break a week early to get more time with Cort’s dad and Tristan.” He says the words like he’s reciting a script. His gaze falls down my body, all the way to my boots and back up.
I do my best not to react.
“You look good,” he says in a low voice. “Are you going to seeDaxlater?”
I roll my eyes and plant one hand on my hip. “Stop being cryptic and tell me what happened to you, Storm.”
The dimples in his cheeks flash for one single second, even though he bites back his smile. “Or did you see Dax last night?” he presses. “Actually, have you heard from him at all?” He tilts his head down, like he’s trying to get closer to my level. “Do you know if he’s still alive, Sloane?”
I know he’s fucking with me but I take in his tired eyes, the vivid slash on his side, and I feel a faint flicker of fear for Dax. “He wants to take me out tomorrow night.”A lie. We’re meeting up for fall break but otherwise, we don’t have plans. I just want to see what Storm says. I can play these games, too.
For too many seconds, he’s perfectly still. Then he says, “No.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
He doesn’t reply to that. He slips his hand into the pocket of his sweats and for a brief, terrifying moment I wonder if he’s going to pull out his gun even though I think I’d be able to see if he had it in there but then again, men’s pockets are always—stupidly—deeper than women’s.
But he doesn’t take out a gun.
At first, in the darkness of the foyer and the living room, I don’t know what it is. He holds it between his thumb and index finger. It looks like an extremely long, rusty nail. My breath catches, but I still step closer to get a better look, the drink in my hand melting. I vaguely register I need to gulp it down if I want to have it before it turns into melted espresso water and syrup, but I’m too focused on what he’s showing me.
I flinch when he wraps his other arm around me, the one holding the drink, and brings me even closer, so close only his hand with the nail is between us.
His forearm is hard on my back and I inhale sharp as I look up at him, his light eyes studying mine.
“It’s a coffin nail,” he whispers.
I’m confused and I’m sure it shows on my face so I don’t say a word. I know what he said about leaving them on my doorstep, but I half-thought he was fucking with me.
He’s too close and I can see the vein in his throat and the gold of his chain and the blue hoop in his nose and the whites of his eyes and how dark the shadows are beneath them.
“I lied to you.”
My chest squeezes, even though I’m sure I already know what he lied about.
“I didn’t leave these on your doorstep. But I did find them there. A dozen of them. And last night, I’m pretty sure the person who put them there is the same one who tried to stab me.”
