Page 83 of Stop and Seek
Good.
One less person to worry about.
“Give it back. Imeanit.”
Max snorted. “No? No, I won’t. You’re acting all twitchy when you have your phone.”
Noah white-knuckled the wheel, nails digging in. The noise of midday traffic barely registered over the static inside his head.
He just wanted his phone.
He just wantedherto shut up.
“He’s not even cute. And this dumbass is over here ogling his texts like some lovesick teenager. For what? Let’s be honest, he wouldn’t give you the time of day unless you were the last person alive.”
Still.
Fucking.
Talking.
“What do you want to bet Theo sent him a heart emojione timeand this is how we got in this fucking mess?” Max laughed. “I bet if I scroll up—”
Noah didn’t think.
His hand shot across the center console and latched onto Max’s wrist in a death grip. The car veered, tires screaming as they crossed the line into the next lane.
“Enough,” Noah hissed, and for a second, the world outside—horns blaring, someone shouting—faded into the background. “This is the last damn time I’ll say it. Give it back.Now.”
Max yanked her arm away with a scoff. “Relax,” she muttered, tossing the phone into the cup holder. “I was messing with you.”
“Jesus Christ,”Kyran whispered from the back.
Noah glanced up at the rear-view mirror. Kyran was plastered against the seat, paler than a sheet of paper, fiddling with the braid in his hair.
Noah let out a long, ragged breath. His grip on the wheel loosened just a bit.
Hemight’vegone too far. Maybe.
Max was twisting her rings,throwing him that familiarI’ll-kill-you-the-second-we’re-aloneglare, and Kyran looked like he was praying for a teleportation button.
Even the AC sounded anxious.
But Theo wasn’t some joke. He wasn’t a weekend project, orsome guy.He waseverything.He mattered. More than these two could ever understand.
And if anyone—anyone—reduced Theo to a joke again, Noah didn’t care if it meant jail time. He’d rip the roof off the goddamn car.
By the time they reached East Bridge, Noah felt… mostly human again. His breathing had settled, chest rising steady. It didn’tfeellike he was going to slam his head through the windshield.
But the heat was still there. Low. Crawling in his stomach like a live wire.
Smiling was easy enough.
But one wrong comment and he’d snap again.
He could’ve crashed the car.Actuallydone it. Killed all three of them in one angry blur. That would’ve been dramatic as hell.
Heiress and co. lose their lives on the I-90.
