Page 48 of Jett in Jeopardy

“You’re not the first person to finish college and not know what they’ll do next,” Brody said, sounding amused. “Will you go back to Colorado?”

Maybe that was why he was asking about my plans for the future. He was worried I was taking what we were doing too seriously, and he was hoping I would leave Saltwater Cove once school finished. Unfortunately for him, the only thing Iwassure about was that I would not be going back to Colorado. There was nothing to go back to.

“My mom died when I was eight.”

Brody’s arm around me tightened. “I’m sorry.”

“After she died, it was just me and my dad, and he hadnoidea what to do with me. Then he married Camille, and she really wasn’t interested in raising someone else’s kid.”

I felt Brody tense beneath me; his hand fiddling with my hair stilled. “She wasn’t cruel,” I added quickly. “Just disinterested. Then she had her own kids, and they were just their own family, without me. My dad kept a roof over my head and kept me fed, but I definitely wasn’t a part of their family unit. I think everyone was just counting down the days until I finally left for school. So, yeah, I don’t want to go back after I graduate, and they don’t want me to come back, either.”

Brody shifted, rolling me under him so his length rested over me, pressing me into the mattress, his face only inches from mine. “Your dad and your stepmother sound like assholes.”

“Yeah,” I said, with a sigh. “They kind of are.”

He leaned closer, his expression serious, the intensity darkening his gaze. “You’re fucking amazing, and it’s their loss.”

He kissed me, deep and desperate, and it tasted a little like goodbye.

Chapter Twenty-One

Jett

Withonlyafewdays until the university shuts down for the holidays, I was having serious second thoughts about meeting Simon at the school. The normally crowded hallways and common areas were practically deserted. There was no one in the classrooms and lecture halls, and when I noticed how the steady thud of my footsteps echoed down the empty hall, I almost convinced myself that there had been some kind of apocalyptic catastrophe and I was the only survivor left in the world.

Maybe I’d made a mistake setting all this up, and I probably should have told Brody what I was planning. After last night, it felt as though something had shifted between us, that maybe we could have something more than just sex. He’d told me about Ryan—admittedly, not by choice—and he’d asked me about my life and plans.

Whatever was happening between us, not telling Brody about Simon felt more like lying than just not burdening him with my messy life. I knew he would want to know about this, that I’d figured out that Simon was my stalker, and I was about to meet him to try to get him to confess to everything he’d done to me and my friends over the past five months. I knew he wouldn’t want me here meeting Simon, especially alone. He would want me to go to the cops. I was as sure of it as I was sure that the cops would do nothing for me, with no proof.

So here I was, meeting a guy who had already tried to kill me. Not one of my better thought-out plans, admittedly. I guess I could have asked Grier or Alistair to come with me, even Sawyer, but I had already put them in enough danger. Besides, it’s not like I hadn’t interacted with Simon before out in public. Just like I was doing now. I just wished the school had a little morepublicgoing on than it did right now.

I pushed past the double doors into the cafeteria and the illusion that I was alone in the world vanished. The restaurant was still open and staffed, and while the rows of tables were emptier than they ever were on a typical day, there were still some students lingering. A young woman tapped frantically on her laptop as a collection of paper coffee cups started to form a wall around her. A few tables over, a group of friends was eating and laughing, their voices carrying in the unusually empty space. And tucked in a back corner, Simon Hargood sat waiting, his bland expression unreadable.

I hesitated before starting down the narrow walkway between the rows of tables and resisted the urge to pat my pocket where my phone was. The voice-activated recording app was already switched on and waiting. I just hoped it would work.

When I reached the table, Simon looked up at me with a sort of confused smile lighting his boyish face, and if it wasn’t for everything I already knew about him, I would never have guessed he’d be capable of doing the things he had.

“I was surprised when you texted me,” he said, as I sat in the molded plastic chair opposite him. I turned a little, angling myself so my phone in my jeans pocket was as close to Simon as I could get it without letting the table or anything else potentially obstruct it.

My brows lifted. “Why’s that?”

“Well, you’re sleeping with that older guy who runs the bar, aren’t you?” His eyes had a hard glint to them, despite his affable smile. “I’d say you have a type, but I think anyone with a pulse is your type.”

He knew I knew who he was, though I wasn’t sure how.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

Simon’s light brows pulled into a fake confused frown. “Doing what?”

“Youknowwhat. You started the fire in our house. My friend almost died.”

He shook his head and shrugged, that annoying fake frown still etched into his features. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sorry about your friend, though.”

Anger swelled inside me, and I wanted to swing out and smash his stupid looking face. He knew exactly what he’d done, and he obviously didn’t give a shit that someone had almost died while he’d been playing his games.

“I know who you are,” I told him. “There’s no point in playing dumb.”

“Of course you know me.” His head tilted to one side, like a baffled puppy. But it was all an act. He was fucking with me. “We worked together for like a month before you got fired.”

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