Page 17 of Soul of a Psycho

I can practically hear the news casters.

Investigators say there were no attempts at braking, and without any substances in the toxicology report, they are deeming this a murder-suicide. A memorial will be held at the site of the accident for Sky Lyons—

“Cade!”

Tall candles and teddy bears will be crowded around the base of the tree. Students will sniffle and cry like they knew her, when she’s only been at Hillcrest for two days. I wonder what picture they’ll use of her. Probably one from her old school that shows the golden color of her hair. She’ll be smiling, and the tragedy part will be that she’ll never be able to smile again.

I ease my foot off the gas at the image of her smiling, wondering what it would really look like. I can’t kill her without knowing what that smile looks like, right?

“What the fuck was that?” she breathes.

I shake my head and roll the window down.

“Just hungry,” I half lie.

I’m hungry, alright. Just not for food.

Chapter Twelve

Sky

Ilook at Cade, then at the ice cream parlor, and then back at Cade. The polarity is comical. He’s malefactor, a deviant, menacingly clad in black, while the ice cream shop has pink topped cones on the windows and sherbet umbrellas out front. I don’t know where I expected him to take me, but this isn’t it.

“We’re getting ice cream?” I ask suspiciously, and he rolls his eyes, stomping past me to pull open the door.

“Low blood sugar, remember?” He grabs my arm and pulls me through.

It’s too early in the morning for the place to have any patrons, but I immediately look down at my clothes and shrink in on myself. I still have blood on my shirt, and the peroxide is starting to bleach my skirt.

Cade looks over the glass that encloses the ice cream flavors, presumably looking for an employee because the place is empty, but then he turns to find me still hovering by the door.

As if suddenly realizing I’m a mess, his eyes roam up and down my body. I know he’s taking in my attire, but there’s something else in his perusal, and I can’t help but shiver. I don’t know if I’m afraid that he might like what he sees, that he’ll claim me as a target and I’ll never get rid of him, or if I’m desperate for him to do just that.

When his eyes flick back up to mine, I can’t look away, and something dark forms in the pit of my stomach as his brows draw together in vexation. His ravenous irises are a stark contrast to the way his jaw flexes, and I think Ishouldbe afraid. He’s not a guy that likes what he sees. He’s a wolf that hasn’t eaten and will stalk me to the ends of the earth for the meal he’s set his sights on.

Without looking away, he suddenly yanks his hood down and begins stripping off his jacket. Something hot heats my skin, and not in a good way. My heart picks up, and I irrationally lift my heel, getting ready to run. Painful panic grips my chest, and I pull my eyes from his to look for help. Not that it would do me any good. There were quite a few people in the movie theater that day, and none were even aware what was happening just a few rows back. Still, I wish there was someone here. How was it just seconds ago that this was a friendly establishment, and now it’s a desolate trap I’ve been lured into?

Stupid.

He steps forward, and I back into the door, freezing up at his proximity. There’s nowhere to go. There’s nowhere to go, and why does it seem like it’s getting darker? I nearly gag on the scent of butter.No, no, no.I shrink in on myself.

“Put this on.”

The words startle me. On and not off? I blink and look down, where I find sun shining in, and black fabric being held out to me. There’s no popcorn on the floor or spilled drinks.

Because this is not a movie theater, and this isnotChase.

It’s Cade. Cade who hasn’t even done anything to me. Cade who stitched me up and brought me for ice cream. The ridiculousness of my reaction hits me, and I suddenly feel stupid.

“Thank you,” I force out, hating the way my hand shakes as I accept his hoodie.

I slip my arms into it eagerly, suddenly cold from the comedown of panic. I can feel Cade’s eyes on me, suspicious and confused, but I avoid looking up. I’m not only embarrassed by how I recoiled, but now from how intimate it feels to be wearing his jacket. I busy myself with zipping it up—partly to hide the blood, but mostly as an excuse to avoid his gaze. But the little metal doesn’t budge. I struggle for a second, trying to align the teeth, when Cade suddenly clasps a hand over mine. His skin is scorching, and I hold my breath as I force myself to look up at him. He’s leaning over me, his dark hair in his eyes.

“Sometimes it gets stuck,” he says, his voice husky.

“Oh,” I manage, my cheeks heating.

He pinches my fingers between his, wiggles the zipper, and then together we drag it up. I have to tilt my chin up, and once again I’m frozen. But this time not in fear. My heart beats erratically, my lips tingle, my stomach whooshes, and all I can think isdo it.

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