“Did you take your suppressants?” I ask, though I already checked the punched-out foil sleeve in the bathroom this morning.
“Yes, Ash.” Lena rolls her eyes, the exaggeration visible above her scarf. “Didyou?”
“Like clockwork.” I realize I’m being overprotective, but after what happened, I won’t drop the ball again.
We turn the corner onto James Street, joining the stream of students flowing toward the sprawling brick building of Ridgeway Public High. The security guard at the front gate tips his chin at me, a small acknowledgment earned over years of walking Lena to school.
“Text me when you finish with your study group.” I adjust her scarf, tucking a loose end into her collar. “I’ll meet you at the bus stop if I finish early.”
“I know the drill.” She steps back, creating space between us. “I’m sixteen, not six.”
“Humor me.”
Her sigh creates another cloud before it dissipates between us. “Fine. But only because you got stabbed before.”
“That was years ago.” I tap the strap of her backpack. “And it was only a scratch.”
“Still counts.” She turns toward the school, but pauses. “Oh, and tell your boyfriend I said hi if you meet up today.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “He’s not my?—”
But she’s already gone, swallowed by the crowd of students surging toward the entrance. I stay rooted to the spot, watching until she disappears through the double doors.
Only when she’s inside do I turn away, my shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch as I exhale.
The bus stop lies four blocks east. I need to catch the eight-fifteen if I’m going to make it to Rockhaven by nine. My stride lengthens as I calculate minutes and distance, the math keeping me grounded as I navigate the morning foot traffic.
A black car rolls up beside me, engine purring like a well-oiled machine. I can’t make out who is inside past the tinted windows, which can’t be legal.
The passenger side slides down, revealing Rowan behind the wheel, his dark hair pushed back from his forehead, his mouth curved in a half-smile that does bad things to my stomach.
I scowl at him as I mark the timing. He came from the direction of the apartment. I haven’t seen him since I kicked him out of our place on Friday. Did he wake up early to stalk us?
“Morning, precious.” Rowan’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel. “Let me take you out to breakfast?”
My traitorous body responds with a flood of heat to my gut that I stamp out with ruthless determination. I won’t give in to his allure again.
“No.” I keep walking, forcing him to idle the car alongside me. “I have a job across town.”
“Rockhaven, right?” He shifts the car into park, blocking a fire hydrant without concern. “Big houses, big tips.”
Cold spikes through me, different from, but no less intense, than the heat his presence generates. “How did you?—”
“You told your sister at breakfast last Friday.” Rowan leans across the passenger seat, his shirt pulling tight across his shoulders. “Remember?”
Right. Of course. Just information I’d shared, not evidence he’s bugged our place.
“Well, I need to catch a bus.” I step around a pile of soggy leaves, the bus stop visible at the end of the block.
“I’m heading in the same direction.” Rowan pops open the passenger door, the interior light illuminating leather seats and a clean dashboard. “Save yourself the fare. I’ll swing through a drive-thru on the way.”
My stomach chooses that moment to growl, loud enough for him to hear, and his smile widens in victory.
“No detour.” He holds up three fingers. “No obligation. Just food and transportation. Efficient, right?”
I glare at how accurately he’s read me, targetingthe exact pressure points needed to bypass my defenses.
I grip the strap of my tool bag tighter, as if it’s my resolve I’m holding on to. “I need to be there by nine.”
