He laughs, a low chuckle that makes my stomach flutter. Then he flicks his gaze to me, scanning me up and down. “You’ve got me all figured out, huh?”
“Hmm.” I squint, chewing a mouthful. “Not even close. But I’m working on it.”
He looks away, a muscle in his jaw twitching, and pulls into the school parking lot.
He puts the truck in park. Shifts in his seat. Inhales through his nose. Then he looks at me. All of me. Traveling from my eyes to my lips, my lips to my hair, my hair to my eyes again. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something but then shakes his head.
I lower the cupcake. “What?”
He tips his chin toward me. “You’ve got a little something on your lip.”
“Really?” I frown, reaching up to wipe it away. “I don’t feel anything.”
“No?” He narrows his eyes, honing in on the spot. “It’s right there. Yeah, a little to the left. That’s it.”
“What? I still don’t feel anythi—”
“Here. Lemme help.”
Then he’s leaning across the seat, and his lips lock on mine, his tongue searching my mouth like a man on a mission.
I laugh, pushing against his chest, but my efforts don’t stand a chance against the fire heating up myinsides.
“So cheesy,” I breathe, kissing him back.
He smiles against my mouth, hands slipping into my hair, and my heart thumps fast, hard.
I can get used to this.
Textbooks slip in my grip, and my backpack struggles to stay over my shoulder as I use my free hand to open my locker. There’s only one period left for the day, and I managed to take real notes in not one buttwoof my classes. I think I’m really getting the hang of this public school thing.
The door’s jammed, and a weird, foul odor hits my nostrils, but I give another hard tug until it pops open.
My heart stops.
For a split second, all I see is red. My vision blurs as I slowly take in every corner of my locker—meat,raw, flesh,blood, pink,red, pink,red. My notebooks are soaked in it, the interior walls smeared, and my hand trembles so hard it slips from the door.
A single note dangles from a thread before me.
Enjoy your birthday gift, freak.
Voices pierce my eardrums, but they’re underwater.
It’s just a prank, I tell myself even as a rush of dizziness hits my head.A joke taken too far. It doesn’t have to get to me.But the blood, the stench, the butchered remains—everything seeps so deep inside my pores that I swear my chest collapses in on itself, and the most tender parts are eaten up by cruel, heavy rot.
Nausea tightens like a noose around my throat, and my legs sway. I whirl around, prepared to bolt for the first time in my life, but crash into a hard chest instead.
I gasp, and a strong hand curls around one side of my waist, keeping me upright.
“Whoa ...” Joshua says, his voice low.
I open my mouth, but when nothing comes out, I close it again.
His gaze shifts behind me, to my locker, and a quiet, unmistakable growl rumbles up his throat.
“Hey,” he mutters, settling his focus back on me. My heart skips at the dangerous black smoke clouding his eyes. “You’re okay.” When his knuckles brush the side of my cheek, a shaky breath pours out of me. “I got you, Blue,” he murmurs. “You know that, right?”
A lump sticks in my throat, and I slowly nod. “I’m good,” I breathe. “I’m okay.”
