Page 11 of Best Kept Secret
“Where’d you disappear to last night, huh?” His eyebrows waggle in that way that’s just so him. “I hope she was hot.”
My jaw clenches as I make my way down the aisle, but my feet fail me the second I see Dallas’s head pop up, curious gaze finding mine.
I school my expression, tipping my chin at Happy as I murmur, “I told you. I waited with Tex’s little sister until she got into a cab, and then I came back here.” I force a laugh in an attempt at keeping the mood light. “I was wiped after carrying your ass on the ice last night.”
Happy flips me off as a few of the guys around the bus chuckle.
“Hey, man, thanks for doing that,” Dallas says, holding his fist up for me. I tap it with my elbow, passing him as quickly as I can, unable to look him in his eyes.
“How much do I owe you?”
I pause in my tracks and close my eyes a moment before glancing back at him over my shoulder.
“For the cab.”
“Oh, don’t even worry about it,” I say with a nonchalant shrug, all the while my stomach rolling with what little breakfast I was able to eat. Guilt will do that to you.
“I owe you one, brother.” Dallas winks at me and goes back to whatever he’s doing on his phone, and I swear I’d kick my own ass if it wouldn’t raise questions.
Trudging up the aisle, I toss my backpack into the overhead bin before plonking my ass into the seat next to Happy. I can feel him looking at me, but I ignore him, choosing instead to stare straight ahead.
“So,” Happy says after a moment, his tone more obnoxious than usual, if that’s even possible.
Here we fucking go.
“Are we just going to pretend like youdon’thave a black eye, or…?”
I shake my head, shrugging my shoulders like I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“What happened?” he presses, and even without looking at him, I can tell he’s smirking.
“Woke up with it.” I shrug again. “Must have happened during the game.”
“O-kay…” Happy says, but I can tell he’s far from convinced by the way he drags the word out. “And what about your knuckles? Did you bust those up during the game last night too, because I sure as shit don’t remember you dropping gloves.”
Inspector fucking Slater.
My gaze dips down to my hands, to my bruised, split knuckles, and instinctively I fold my arms across my chest in a sad attempt to hide the evidence. Sighing, I rest my head back against the seat and close my eyes, fully aware of Happy’s intense focus on me, as I murmur a dismissive, “No idea what you’re talking about.”
CHAPTER 5
MILLIE
Why now, after more than three years of countless nights spent in this exact spot, at this exact table, am I suddenly realizing just how cavernous the library is. Maybe it’s because it’s pouring rain out, and the occasional flicker of lightning flashing through the windows adds a serious slasher movie vibe to the scene. Or maybe it’s because it’s Thanksgiving weekend, and the place is even emptier than it usually is at this time of night. Whatever it is, as I look up from my laptop and take in my surroundings, I can’t help but wonder if my eyes are playing tricks on me, or if there really is a spindly shadow figure lurking in the stacks. I really need to stop watching scary movies.
I shouldn’t be here. I should be in Summer, Texas, lapping up my mother’s attention, annoying my older brother, Austin, at any and every opportunity, and listening to my father grumble at whatever football game is playing on the TV. But I’m not there. I’m here. In the stupid, creepy library about to be hacked to death by some masked psychopath (probably) while trying to finish my senior thesis that I’ve been putting off for months.
My phone vibrates next to me, and I groan when I see Parker’s name flashing on the screen. Just like I do every other timehe tries to call me, I decline it. Honestly, he calls daily. Sometimes twice. And he leaves voice messages too. Long ones. I don’t listen to them. I’m honestly just waiting for him to get a clue. For someone on his way to Harvard Law, he’s not very bright.
When I finally submit my thesis with a mutteredfuck you, I close my laptop and pack my things into my bag, heading out of the library. It’s still raining out, but thankfully it’s eased to a light drizzle, so I’m not completely soaked by the time I make it into the safety of my car. But just as I turn the key in the ignition, my phone ringsagain, the trill deafening as it connects to the stereo, reverberating through the silence at full volume.
“Fuck my life,” I mutter before answering the call with an exasperated, “What?”
I’m met with silence, and my eyes flit to the screen in the center console to see that it isn’t Parker at all.
“Red?” The low voice rasps in a way that makes my tummy flutter. “Is everything all right? Are—are you okay?” he asks after a few seconds, the concern in his tone enough to make my heart skip.
“Yeah, sorry. I thought you were… a spam caller,” I lie with a light laugh I hope he believes. “They keep calling me, asking if I want to switch over to some other mobile plan, and I just…” I trail off when I realize I’m rambling. “Sorry.”
