Page 28 of The Love Interest
She places her hand in her pocket, then pulls it out and scratches her arm. “What do you remember about it? Like, what’s the image you think of when you think of it?”
“Uh…”
Up ahead, a black van screeches around the corner and starts speeding toward us. Juliet grabs my wrist and pulls me forward. Together, we leap from the road onto the grass.
“What the hell?” Her face is scrunched up. “What a dick!”
The van reaches us and slams on the brakes. Torrents of gray smoke billow from under the van and the smell of burning rubber tickles my nose. The door swings open, and three rough-looking guys clamber out. Their faces are narrowed in identical sneers, and their hands are tight fists.
One of the guys steps toward us. He’s bald, and his compact body is dressed in a leather jacket. He cracks his knuckles. “Well, hello. That’s a lovely bag you have there, miss. It’s worth a lot, am I right?”
Juliet grips her bag tighter. I step in front of her and shield her with one arm.
The man laughs. “Oh, andyou’regoing to stop me?”
This is Dyl’s big entrance, Caden! Derail it!
He steps forward and takes a wild grab at Juliet. She jumps out of the way. If I do nothing, Dyl wins. I clench my hands into fists. This is the one time breaking character is a viable option, because I need to make sure I don’t play along with Dyl’s plan. He’ll expect me to play Nice, and I can’t do what he expects me to do. Then again, Juliet is in danger, and a Nice would turn to violence to protect her. It’s the only time a Nice ever would. From the corner of my eye I see a single beam of light, a motorbike, coming toward us. Dyl, on his way to “save” us.
Screw that noise.
I step forward and punch the guy right in the face.
His nose cracks as a bolt of pain shoots from my knuckles to my wrist. He staggers backward, pinching his nose, which is pumping blood. Pure pain sings under my skin. I wave my hand through the air, biting my lip to stop the scream that’s turning my chest to meaty shreds.
The guy I punched is glaring at me. “Kill him,” he barks.
Shit!
The two others leap toward me. I bring my hands up to protect my head. Hits come from everywhere and I fall, hard, to the ground. A steel-toed boot digs into my stomach, sinking in so deep his toe touches my spine. I roll onto my back. A boot stomps down on my chest. I grab his foot and try to trip him, to bring him to my level so I can punch him somewhere soft, but another kick hits my ribs and my arms go slack.That’s it, my ribs are broken.I curl into a ball. Juliet flings herself at one of them, getting in a strong punch. She’s clinging to his back, hitting him in the face, scratching at his cheeks. He throws her away with one hand. She tumbles and falls.
Right into Dyl’s chest.
Dyl shoves her away and pushes up his sleeves. He punches the guy kicking me, and it’s a perfect punch. It hits the guy in the jaw and then his fist carries on downward. The goon spins and falls. The other guy charges, but Dyl recovers and sends a quick jab into his throat. The man coughs and splutters, then stumbles backward and falls to the ground.
Dyl straightens up, his chest heaving. In and out, in and out. He raises his hand, sweeping a few strands of dark hair back into place. Someone must’ve pulled on his collar in the chaos of the attack, because now a jagged line is cut into his shirt, revealing his collarbone and a small, but definitely noteworthy, stretch of skin. He doesn’t seem to have noticed it, but I can’t look away. Was it on purpose? Did Judy do it to show off his body? I stare at the exposed part of his chest and my mouth goes dry.
Dyl turns and steps over me to reach Juliet, who is sitting on the grass. He looks like a freaking badass superhero. And he saved me. I was hurting and he stopped it. All I want to do is thank him, but Juliet is right there, so I can only watch.
He offers Juliet his hand.
And she takes it.
“Thank you,” she says. “Who are you?”
“Doesn’t matter. Are you all right?”
She bobs her head up and down.
“Good. It was stupid of you to be out here alone. Don’t do it again.”
He walks away, ignoring her flabbergasted expression, and grabs his bike, lifting it up from where he ditched it. He swings his leg over it and sits down.
“Wait,” she says. “Don’t talk to me like that. And I wasn’t alone, obviously. Caden is right there! So are you blind as well as rude?”
Dyl looks down at me and sneers. “Close enough. Do you go to Mapleton?”
Close enough? What the…?I breathe in through my nostrils. It’s not him, not really. This is the Bad version of Dyl. He doesn’t mean what he says. He’s acting. My heartbeat slows.
