This is a violation of my rights no matter how noble Dad’s intentions.
“So I’m a prisoner here?” I ask, the words leaping out before I can stop them.
If she thinks I’m rebelling, she’ll tighten the security.
“Your cooperation isn’t optional, Miss Vaughn,” she seethes, raising both hands to massage her temples. “You will stay on campus until your father grants you more freedom. Is that clear?”
I bite back my retaliation. She’s close to losing her shit and I don’t want to deal with the aftermath.
At the end of the day, she’s the messenger.
My father’s imposing these rules and I bet he’s paying good money so Dr. Harrison enforces them.
Deep down, I know he must have good reason to keep me cooped up. He’s already hinted that I’m in some kind of danger. His jitteriness over the phone confirms it.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
I want to trust his judgment like I have done my entire life, but trust is hard to muster when all he does is ration my information or outright lie to me. Even harder when my stomach ties into elaborate knots whenever I discover yet another safety measure confirming the danger is real.
“Is that clear?” Harrison repeats, her tone biting, eyes boring into mine.
I’m in the dark, unable to protect myself from an enemy I don’t know, but I offer her a single nod. “Is that all?”
“For now. Go back to class, Hailey.”
???
The water ripples around Nash as more of his torso resurfaces from the depths of the dark lake. He steps closer to where I sit at the edge of the boat platform, eyes on mine, not a trace of the cold, arrogant sneer I’ve grown used to by now.
He stops right between my legs, peering up. The heat of his gaze gives me a fever.
“What are you doing?” I whisper as he brings both hands to my knees, the coldness a stark contrast against my burning skin.
He doesn’t speak. Holding my eyes hostage, he drags his big hands up, cupping my thighs. My pulse accelerates when his fingers brush the denim hem of my pinafore dress. Instead ofpushing his fingers under it, he moves his hands over the fabric, higher still. My pulse whooshes in my ears once he reaches my hips.
“Nash,” I hum, every part of me ready and willing.
My panties are damp, my skin prickles, and my breath catches in my throat as he gently clutches my waist.
“It’s cold, pretty girl,” he warns, dragging me closer to the edge of the boat platform. “But I’ll keep you warm.”
Swallowing the desire clogging my throat, I nod, zeroing in on his full lips. Nash lifts me as if I weigh nothing and slowly eases me into the lake. His muscles shift with the strain while a soft tremble shakes me the second my white sneakers break the surface, cold water enveloping my legs inch by inch.
“My dress...” I stammer as a chill seeps into my submerged hips.
“It’ll dry,” Nash says once I feel the bottom of the lake.
He doesn’t let me go like I expected... he pulls me in closer. Lifting one hand, he traces a gentle path with his knuckles from my temple to my jaw, the intensity of his hungry eyes obliterating the chill.
“Now what?” I ask, staring at his chest, a pang of confusion twisting my gut.
I swear most of his upper body was covered in ink, but it’s just pale skin now.
The muscles are here, but they look smaller, somehow. A frown twists my face when I glance lower and find we’re not in the water. We’re on a tiled floor, the room bright and warm, not a trace of the dark lake.
I drag my eyes back up, growing even more confused when I find he’s wearing a white t-shirt. And my heart somersaults as I meet blue eyes.
Not brown.
