Faust’s nose nudges mine, and he doesn’t look away from me. “Then Sylvan did the right thing. Now, give me your number.”
I’m in, door is locked, no one is here, Dad.
I smileas I send the text to Faust, and when I glance down through the window beside Cynthia’s door, I see his red BMW still there, LED lights on.
Butterflies flutter in my low belly despite the fact Iamnervous being here alone and Idowant him up here, even though I told him I didn’t. He got out of the car just to watch me walk inside the bookstore, and that was more than enough.
I pull away from the window and let the curtains flutter closed as my phone vibrates in my hand.
33
Good girl.
Fuck.
My knees feel weak. For some reason, I didn’t think Faust Darling said things like that. Before I can even think about how to reply, another text pops up.
33
When is Cynthia coming home?
Another stupid smile pulls at my lips. I told him her name and that she would be home later tonight, which is true.
I switch over to our texts and see she actually messaged me she scheduled a ride at one in the morning.
Only an hour from now.
Me
Around one.
His response is immediate.
33
Lock your door.
I roll my eyes but I’m still smiling as I walk backward, then flop down on the couch in the living room, the white sweater on my lap, my coat still on, and my eyes glued to my screen.
But I meant what I told Faust. I cautiously checked the whole place. Before that, I peered down every aisle in the emporium.
No one else is here and nothing was disturbed. Didn’t stop me from side-eyeing the countertop where Will got his nose broken, though. But thankfully, I haven’t heard from him againeither. Part of me wonders if he’ll press charges, but I imagine Sylvan will just deny it if he does and expect me to play along.
And as annoyed as I am with Sylvan, lying about fucking me, I think Faust was right. Will did deserve it.
I didn’t need you to tell me that.
33
Don’t go out tonight.
I narrow my eyes, my thumbs flying across my screen as I start to tell him he’s not actually my fucking dad and I’ve survived just fine without one of those, thank you very much. But before I can send all of that, he texts me again.
33
Please, Neve.
My name.
