32
Rosabelle
“What’s going on?” Adam says again, looking around in a panic. “What the hell is happening?”
The diner has erupted into chaos.
Some people pause to bid urgent farewells to their dinner partners before bolting for the exit; others, like Kian and Allie and Liam, rush out without so much as a backward glance. Voices swell and retreat, plates crashing, chairs screeching, people shouting, footfalls thundering. The ring of a bell. The slam of a door. The ring of a bell. The slam of a door.
I get to my feet as if in slow motion, a feeling of foreboding flooding my veins.
My heart is beating fast.
James, on the other hand, doesn’t hurry. In the midst of so much mayhem, he seems to slow down and solidify, as if the commotion only hones him into a sharper blade. I can almost see the adrenaline coursing through him, control and focus hardening the lines of him, darkening his eyes. He shoots me a brief, heated look before clapping an arm on his brother’s shoulder.
“Go home,” he says to Adam, the noise level around us rising to a fever pitch. Abandoned diners are abandoning their dinners, leaving in droves. “Everything’s going to befine. Tell Alia not to worry. You’ll be safe on campus.”
“But—”
“Nazeera,” says James. “Get Rosabelle back to the house immediately.”
Alarm lances through me.
The door continues to slam open and shut, chair legs shrieking across the floors.
“No way,” says Nazeera. “I’m not sitting this out.”
“This is your job,” he counters. “You signed up for it. Around-the-clock security detail, remember? It’s not like we can take her with us—”
“Why not?” I ask cautiously.
Winston rolls his eyes at me. “Be serious.”
“Take her with you where?” Adam asks. “What the hell is going on?”
“Yeah, and you tried to fight me for it,” Nazeera is saying. “Here’s your big chance.”
“You’re unbelievable,” says James. “You can’t just change the rules whenever you feel like it—”
Nazeera tries to argue and James shakes his head, cutting her off.
“Look, we’ll finish fighting about this in a minute,” he says. “Until then, can you run back to my place and grab a few things for me?”
“Me?” she says. “Why can’t you do it?”
“Because I won’t have a chance to change and head to the armory,” he says angrily, “so unless you’re offering to babysit Rosabelle, I need to figure out what to do with her.”
Now I’m offended.
“No, thanks,” says Nazeera, already heading for the exit. “I’ll get the gear.”
“Hey, you asked for this responsibility!” he calls after her. “This wasyouridea—”
The ring of a bell. The slam of a door.
The diner is nearly empty now.
“And that’s our cue,” says Winston, nodding at Adam. “Let’s go. I’m heading home, too.” He turns to me. “This isn’t really my area of expertise, and I’ve had enough of getting what I asked for. I’m sorry I ever wanted you to talk. If I never see you again, please don’t keep in touch.”
