Page 30 of The Broken Note

I watch his ripe mouth turn down into a frown and my mind goes blank.

Stop beating so fast, you stupid heart. This isn’t a big deal.

“Cadey.” There’s something in the way he says that name that’s different than when he calls me ‘Brahms’. Something softer. Something more urgent.

My heart picks up speed despite my instruction.

I want to wrap my arms around his neck, curl into his chest and tell him everything. Not necessarily because I want him to fix it but because I want someone to assure me that I’m not alone. That everything will get better. That mom won’t make my life hell all over again.

But I won’t.

I’ve given Dutch the one thing that no one else has ever had—my virginity.

And it’s made me feel closer to him.

But he also feels further away.

My world is so removed from his.

My crazy mom. A midnight murder. A killer who knows her face, who knows our family.

I have so much to figure out and I can’t do it if Dutch shatters me to pieces and takes over everything.

His fingers trace my cheek and he pushes my hair behind my ear the way he did that night in the alley. He’s so tender that tears press against the back of my eyes.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Dutch whispers.

I want to.

But I can’t.

The one thing this world has taught me is that trusting anyone but yourself is a mistake. And it wasn’t so long ago Dutch was desperately trying to kick me out of Redwood. Who’s to say he’s changed? Who’s to say he won’t put the target back on me? Who’s to say it’s not there still?

I firm my stance and push at him.

He doesn’t budge.

“I have Lit in ten minutes and I need to use the bathroom,” I mumble.

Not technically a lie.

His eyes scour my face as if he wants to read every one of my thoughts. Eventually, he steps back.

I hurry down the hallway, taking note of the crowd that parts for me. It doesn’t matter that Dutch isn’t behind me anymore. With the way he’s acting, everyone thinks we’re dating. Once they see me, they see Dutch—the ruler of Redwood Prep, a guy who’s insane enough to kick someone out of a chair they were already sitting in.

Crazy bastard.

Desperately, I duck into the nearest bathroom, pool my hand under the cool water from the sink and splash my face.

I’m too hyper-aware of him. Too caught up in his spell.

“Get it together, Cadey.” I smack my cheek. The sound of wet palms slapping against skin is loud in the bathroom. “Get it together.”

The door creaks open.

I mind my own business and grip the edge of the sink, my head tucked to my chin. Water drips down my nose and plops into the sink.

“Well, if it isn’t Dutch Cross’swhore,” a high-pitched voice scratches my ears.

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