Page 17 of The Blackmail of Denise Randall

Keaton doesn’t pull back from our kiss until the protective rail is raised. He places his thumb on my bottom lip as he cups my face. “I’ve not stopped thinking about our last kiss for a year.”

The heat in his eyes and the husky whisper of his words have me wanting to grab his face and bring his lips back to mine. Instead, I smile and tilt my head into his palm. “Then that one should last you another year.”

With that, I stand up and hurry away. I feel myself wanting to melt into him, but that opens me up to being vulnerable and potentially exposing new secrets. Keaton calls after me but I break into a run. I see Samantha and Tiffany laughing, holding corn dogs, and disposable cups.

I continue running until I reach Samantha. “Please take me home.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong?” Samantha asks.

Tiffany grabs my arm and smiles wide. “Did you hear about Isabelle?”

“Yeah,” I tell Tiffany, and then focus on Samantha. “I need to get home. Can you please take me? Please.”

“Of course.”

“Let’s go.” I take her arm and practically drag her away.

I repeatedly assure Samantha that nothing is wrong, and I’m just not feeling well. The glow of a lit cigarette standing by the gate is what I notice first. The closer we get; I see that it’s Nine. Smoke slowly leaves his mouth, as his eyes follow us as we walk by. We don’t acknowledge him, and he doesn’t us. But I feel his eyes the entire way to Samantha’s car, and the chills he gives me linger the entire ride home.

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