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Jaded, Page 29

Tijan


  now you're going to run?"

  "That's all I can do!" I cried out, feeling the panic build up with each second, each breath, and each word.

  Bryce quieted. He listened.

  "It's all…I can't do anymore. I can't—I can't do conversations about us, not yet."

  "Okay."

  And I was left dazed at the abrupt softening of his voice.

  Bryce jerkily nodded and said again, "Okay. I can do that."

  The panic subsided and I warily dropped onto the bed.

  Bryce still stood, naked, in the darkness and he came to stand in front of me. I met his glittering eyes in the moonlight and closed my eyes as his fingers found the side of my face and tilted me upwards. Gently, he pushed me back down and lay beside me, on his side. He laid an arm over me and kissed me.

  Slowly, exquisitely, we explored each other as we kissed.

  I broke away and said quickly, "You tell Corrigan, but he can't label us. Okay?"

  "Okay." And Bryce quieted me again.

  Chapter 23

  "My dad's leaving my mom," Bryce broke the quiet.

  I twisted and looked at him from underneath the sheets.

  Bryce quickly wrapped an arm around me and pulled me against him. "I didn't want to deal with it so that's why I never said anything about it. It's why I'm going pro next year. My mom wants me to take care of the family. She says that we can't trust my dad for money. It's my turn to man up and take care of stuff."

  We still heard sounds from Denton's party.

  "I really hate that guy," Bryce said quietly against my shoulder. "And I really don't like his sister."

  "I'm sorry about your family," I murmured softly and pressed a kiss underneath his jaw. He was so strong, in more than the obvious ways. I felt humbled, but I wasn't about to admit that. "And you don't have to worry about Mena anymore. Neither of those two are going to be visiting me anytime soon."

  Bryce sat up beside me and draped a loose arm over my waist. He told me, "She's…she's not right. She doesn't have a base, I guess. I don't know. I just know…she reminds me of my mom sometimes."

  That screamed of silence.

  "It took my mom a long time before she could walk out of the house alone after my dad first left. Mena reminds me of my mom."

  "You never talk about your mom like that," I murmured.

  "I never talk about my mom," Bryce said grimly. "Period."

  I grinned softly and reached for him. He came willingly and our lips met.

  I gasped and shoved him away. "We didn't use protection that last time."

  "I thought you were doing the shot."

  "Oh." I 'd forgotten and slumped back down, relieved. "Thank god."

  Bryce ducked his head and grinned against my neck. His hand explored downwards and my breath caught as he poked and whispered, "I liked feeling you naked."

  I laughed, "And that statement is the epitome of our dysfunctional and unhealthy relationship."

  Bryce grinned, but whispered fiercely as his fingers found my core, "Shut up."

  I did better. I shut him up instead.

  And in the morning, my legs ached in ways that had me wondering how worse I would've felt if I'd run a marathon. It was still dark out, but the clock read 6:30 and I could still hear sounds from Denton's party.

  Bryce flipped onto his stomach and wrapped an arm around my waist. He scooped me closer in his sleep and nuzzled my neck.

  It tickled and brought a smile to my face. I sighed softly and turned to watch him. I saw the vulnerable little boy in his face as he slept. He was softer, without the knowledge that consciousness brought to him and hardened the wall that he resurrected.

  I had a wall and my wall was thicker. But I'd told him twice more during the night that I loved him. Once as we made love and the second as he fell asleep. He hadn't heard the second time, but it's why I'd whispered it again. The words were foreign to my tongue and they slid off easier each time I said them.

  I slipped from the bed and Bryce found me in the shower.

  We didn't leave the room until another hour, but it was a refreshing morning that I knew would be remembered no matter what the future brought.

  I needed that morning.

  We skipped breakfast and Bryce paid for coffee on the way to school.

  As we parked and sipped, Bryce grimaced and brought his hand up from the driver's door.

  He smiled tightly and dangled two pairs of handcuffs from his fingers.

  Steam rose from the cup in his other hand.

  "Oh goody," I said dryly as I sipped my coffee. Neither of us made a move for the doors. We were content to sit with comfortable silence and steaming coffee.

  Someone pounded on the back of Bryce's car and Bryce and I both turned to look. Anyone else would've jumped, cursed, spilled coffee, but not us. Years of training for iron restraint kept us cool, calm, and with the bored expressions on our features.

  Corrigan hurled into the backseat and threw an arm around each seat as he leaned forward.

  "So," he exclaimed, enthusiastic and beaming. "How are we?"

  Bryce took a sip of coffee. So did I. And nothing was said.

  Corrigan danced his eyes between us, watched, studied, and a slow smile spread over his face, "Oh man. Thank god!"

  The barest hint of a smile ghosted over Bryce, but it was gone as I drawled, "Thank god for what? That we didn't kill each other?"

  "Nah, man." Corrigan smirked, "Thank god that we remembered the handcuffs. I thought I might've lost our pair under my bed last night."

  "Logan doesn't strike me as the handcuff type," I remarked.

  "Oh," Corrigan was smug. "You haven't met the real Logan, yet."

  "I'm okay with not knowing that Logan."

  Corrigan was about to retort as I saw a police cruiser turn into the parking lot. I bolted upright and asked, "What are the police doing here?"

  "I thought they were still following you," Corrigan replied.

  "Yeah, but…those guys park across the street. These guys—look." I pointed. "They're right here."

  Two police cars stopped just outside the parking lot doors of the school. Another two vehicles parked behind them and I watched as Officer Sheila climbed out of the driver's seat of one of them. She looked wary, but refreshed with her hair up in a high ponytail and a crisp trench coat tied around her waist.

  "What…?" I murmured to myself as I climbed outside.

  I was across the parking lot before I knew it and asked Officer Sheila, "What's going on?"

  A frown flashed over her features and she held a hand up, "Sheldon, you should go back to your vehicle. Stay there."

  "No. What's going on?"

  Bryce and Corrigan had gotten out of the car and now approached us.

  "Sheldon, go back to your vehicle. Make sure your friends are with you—they were with you last night, right?"

  I frowned. "Bryce was. We left Corrigan at the vigil and went to my house."

  She relaxed, slightly, which said something. A person can't normally read a cop.

  I felt Bryce at my elbow and Corrigan rounded to stand beside me and Officer Patterson. Both guys were quiet when I asked again, "What's going on?"

  Sheila frowned and nodded to two of the detectives that were waiting at the door for her. She made a gesture for them to go inside when her partner, Office Milon, appeared beside her elbow.

  Firmness settled over her when she asked, "Did you know Bailey Umbridge?"

  Bailey…. "Crazy hair?" I asked.

  Sheila nodded.

  "Yeah. I talked to her last night at the vigil. She was friends with Leisha."

  "What did you two talk about?"

  "She just…I don't know. We talked about how fake people were and she…she told me that Leisha wouldn't have walked through the park at night. Leisha had been at her house when Carlos called her. Bailey lived two blocks from Harris'."

  "Did you notice anyone? Did anyone watch you guys talking? Anyone that you remembered?"


  "Just Bryce. He came and—he was in the doorway. That's all."

  "No one else? Anything strike you as odd last night? Like a sense that you were being watched?"

  I saw the intense scrutiny in her eyes and I knew she was watching me for a reason. When it clicked and I knew what she was asking, I felt the old numbness creep back inside. Its tentacles reached deep, deeper than before, and it grabbed hold of my organs and tightened its grasp.

  Paralyzed, I murmured, "What are you talking about?"

  Something flickered in her eyes and Sheila said quietly, "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

  "He was there, wasn't he?" I whispered, hoarse. "He was there and he saw me talking to Bailey, didn't he?"

  She didn't need to say a thing. Her eyes did the talking for her.

  "What—" I gasped. "Is she…is she inside?" Dead.

  Understanding dawned in Bryce and he shifted closer to me. His chest lightly grazed my side, but he didn't take a hold of my arm or hand. He just stood there.

  "Do you remember anyone from last night, Sheldon?"

  "I thought I had police protection," I said faintly.

  "You do and they were outside, like they were ordered. They aren't one-on-one detail protection. They're on basic watch so they wouldn't have been inside. If you want one-on-one detail, I can arrange that. My men would be your personal bodyguards."

  "She's got us," Corrigan spoke up.

  "Sheldon…do you remember anyone?"

  "No." I shook my head. "I just…I liked her. Bailey. I remember liking her, she was…she was cool."

  "Well, she's dead now." Officer Milon clipped out, harshly. He raked his eyes over me, piercing me. His balding spot seemed to have grown, but it might've been the wind that flapped his hair around.

  Bryce and Corrigan both tensed and shifted closer on either side of me.

  "Back off," Sheila rasped sharply. "We're not accusing her of anything."

  They stayed put.

  I asked, my eyes flat, "Where was she found?"

  Sheila hesitated and Officer Milon barked the answer, "She was found in the girls' locker room. That's what the report said, but we haven't gone inside yet."

  "Who found her?"

  "Another student. He came early to clean this morning."

  "Who?" Corrigan frowned.

  "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Officer Milon's claws had been sharpened. He'd come to fight and he was thrilled to watch as Corrigan riled at his bait. "I know who you are, kid. You've been arrested for car theft, assault, vandalism. You're a nice tight little delinquent that's going to end up in prison one of these times."

  Corrigan nearly growled, but he restrained himself, just barely.

  "Hank," Sheila said sharply. "Let's go."

  "I'm telling you, Sheila. It's this guy." Officer Milon stared at Corrigan, salivating. "What I would do to take you down right here and now."

  Corrigan controlled himself and asked tightly, "Who's the kid that found her?"

  "No," Sheila bit out. "That's official police matter. You won't be getting the name to shake him down. He's in police protection now."

  The morning crowd had started to draw closer and multiply. More and more students, unable to enter school from the other entrances, all wandered and were attracted to the growing throng of gawkers. Just then, Principal Gregory pushed through the crowd and found our little group that had been moved off to the side.

  "Officers," Principal Gregory nodded, grave. "Let's have our meeting."

  Sheila clipped out a brisk nod, found my eyes once, and left with a final glare from her partner to Corrigan. They disappeared inside the doors that were now been marked off with yellow tape.

  Corrigan snarled, "What I wouldn't do to…I want to know who found her. We should find out if there was another note for Sheldon."

  Chet, Holster, and Harris all gestured for us as they stood in their group near the back of the lawn. We moved farther around the corner and I saw Braven, Carlos, Becky Lew, Mandy Justice, and anyone else who might've been deemed 'popular' crowded together in a tight pact.

  In that moment, I saw that two social classes had separated. Our crowd stood around the corner. And the other crowd, the Grace Bartons, the Teddys, and the Menas now stood in the other large crowd. They congregated in the parking lot, just beyond the barricaded doors.

  The gap had widened between the two groups and as we crossed it, I felt a chill down my back. It took hold and wrapped its slimy, wet, and frozen hand around my spine.

  Chet gestured to the farthest corner of the school's campus. A side door that led into the school's theater opened. Two uniformed police officers walked outside and Marcus Donadeli walked behind with another two uniforms bringing up the rear. They approached a police cruiser as one opened the backdoor and held a hand to Marcus' head. He ducked inside and a uniform slid in beside him. The door was closed and two uniforms sat in the front while the last cop went to get into another police cruiser. Both cars pulled away from the curb and drove around the corner.

  Evan remarked, somber, "It's all over school. Some chick got her number last night."

  Corrigan was still watching Donadeli when he mused, "Wanna bet that's the kid that found her?"

  Bryce frowned.

  I stayed quiet.

  "What are you talking about?" Holster asked just as Tatum approached the group.

  "They said that a kid found her this morning. Some kid who cleaned here."

  "Yeah, that'd make sense. That's the Donadeli kid, right? Doesn't he have, like, eight jobs or something?"

  Corrigan lit up and exclaimed, "Sheldon, you can get the info from him. The kid's in love with you."

  I shook my head, numb, and took an instinctual step backwards. "I don't want to have anything to do with it."

  I moved back again and walked into Bryce. He slid an arm around my waist and anchored me to him.

  Corrigan nodded as he searched my face. And he dropped it, just like that.

  Becky broke the slight silence and murmured, "I think school's out for the week."

  Carlos nodded and remarked, "They'll probably do a community curfew."

  "Two students murdered and the last one was found in the school," Mandy noted. "I think they have good reason."

  Chantal sidled next to Bryce and slid a finger down his arm.