Page 58 of Devil's Bargain

I glance at Rick’s car in my rearview mirror. “I’m taking a mental health day.”

Silence.

“Nina?”

“A mental health day?”

I wring the wheel again. The leather is cracked. “I needed to get away.”

“Mr. Scott is fuming.”

I cringe.Shit…

“You better not do anything stupid!”

I laugh. “I’m just taking a day off school. That’s all.”

“Phone me later so that I know you’re okay.”

“Sure. If I don’t ring, it’s because I wrapped my car around a tree.”

“Can you not joke about that shit!”

I glance at Rick again. “Sorry.”

“You better fucking ring!”

“I will. I promise.”

“Good. I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be. I’m fine, Nina. I’ll speak to you later.” I disconnect the call without saying goodbye and blow out a deep breath. I’m nervous, and a sense of foreboding is trickling down my spine.

I pull over at the side of a small lake. It’s nothing like the local one back home. This one is much smaller, and the only sign of human life is an abandoned fishing rod sticking out in the reeds.

Rick pulls up behind me and exits the car. He sweeps his hazel eyes over the lake as he shuts the driver’s door. “What is this place?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.”

He walks ahead, his hands inside his pockets. His white Adidas original superstar trainers sink into the sand.

I tear my eyes away from his broad back and set off after him. “Why are you not in class?”

He looks over his shoulder, his brown hair moving in the slight breeze. “Dentist appointment. I saw you run out when I pulled into the parking lot.”

He sits down on the sand, and I do the same. He watches me remove my shoes and sink my bare feet in the sand. It’s overcast and dark clouds are moving in. It’s only a matter of time before it rains.

“Are you okay?” he asks, reaching out to brush the pad of his thumb over my bruised cheek. He stills when he spots the marks on my neck.

Shame floods me. “No, but it doesn’t matter.”

He grinds his jaw, trailing his touch over the fingerprints on the column of my neck. “Who did this to you?”

“Why did you follow me here?” I ask, changing the topic.

His hand falls away. “I care about you.”

“Why?” My voice is barely audible.

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