Then how? Something worse than Onadyn? I wanted to ask, but didn’t. Maybe it was the loss of blood. Maybe it was the fact that I’d nearly been killed. But whatever the reason, a wave of sadness overshadowed my panic, my fear, and probably my common sense. How could I have been so wrong about Erik?
There were several Onadyn addicts at our school—and Erik probably sold to them. Those kids constantly fought; they constantly stole. A few had been expelled for giving blow jobs in the bathroom. Not just the girls, either.
“Not everyone has had your pampered life.” He radiated bitterness.
“You don’t know anything about me.” Too weak to argue with him anymore, I turned toward the side window and stared out. The moon cast golden light over crumbling buildings and the occasional tree. Slashes of color were scattered throughout, people trekking along the sidewalks and through the night. Scary people. Weapons glinted from them and their teeth flashed in evil smiles.
This was not a nice neighborhood. Did Erik live in the area? I tried not to shudder.
“You never told me,” he said suddenly, cutting through the silence. “What did you do with the napkin?”
I didn’t face him. “It’s in my pocket.”
“Good.” He nodded. “Burn it when you get home.”
“Of course,” I lied. How many would I tell today? But no way would I burn that napkin. It was proof of my innocence. I hoped.
“I don’t want them to use it against you,” he said, as if reading my mind.
Both of my eyebrows arched into my forehead. “How could they?”
“I’m sure they’d find a way. They always do.”
“You shouldn’t have given it to me,” I snapped. “You’ve ignored me at school all year, and the one day you pay me any attention, you practically tie weights around my ankles and toss me into a pool of sharks.”
“I haven’t always ignored you.” His voice was even, flat.
“Liar.”
“Yesterday you wore a silver heart-shaped necklace. You’d never worn it before. How’s that for noticing?”
My mouth fell open in surprise. He was right. My parents had given me a locket yesterday morning “just because we love you.” I hadn’t worn it tonight because I’d been too afraid of losing it. And he’d noticed such a small detail?
Good or bad? I didn’t know and considering who and what he was, I shouldn’t be the least bit happy by that. No, I shouldn’t. But I was. Idiot.
“Why were you at the Ship tonight?” he asked, changing the subject. “You’ve never been there before.”
I ignored his question, too embarrassed by the answer. “You don’t know that for sure. Maybe I’ve been there a thousand times and you just never saw me.”
He shook his head. “You’ve never been there before. I would have known.”
“I…well…” I didn’t know what to say.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were sent by A.I.R.”
Disbelieving, I twisted to look at him. He kept his eyes straight ahead. In profile, his nose was slightly longer than I’d realized, and his chin jutted out stubbornly. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. You show up on a night when big things are supposed to go down. You show up on the very night A.I.R. lets me know they’re watching me. And finally, you eavesdrop and follow me.”
My cheeks heated. Put that way, I did look guilty. Again. Apparently I’d done nothing right at the club. “And just how do you know better?” I couldn’t help but ask.
There was a pause, a relaxing of his shoulders. “You don’t strike me as their usual type, that’s all.”
“Which is?”
“Strong. Bloodthirsty. Brave.”
Okay, his words really cut. Yes, I was a coward. Yes, I tended to duck rather than storm into the midst of a fight. I hated that about myself. More than that, I hated that he viewed me the same way.
“You’re right. I’m not A.I.R.” I pushed out a sigh. “Shanel and I—” God, was I really going to tell him? Was I really going to admit how stupid I was? Why not, I thought then. His opinion didn’t matter to me anymore. Not even a little. Really. “We came to the club to see you and Silver. We just wanted the two of you to finally notice us, that’s all.”
Erik didn’t reply—he was good at that—and my stomach tightened. What was he thinking?
I watched as the fine lines around his mouth deepened. There was a dusting of a beard on his jaw. Several boys at school had shadow beards, but now, on Erik, it made him seem infinitely older. “How old are you?” I asked.
“Too old for you,” he muttered.
Ouch. “And how old is that?”
Another pause. Then, “Twenty,” he admitted reluctantly.
Not so much older than me, really, but I didn’t point that out. That would reek of desperation, and he already thought poorly of me—not that I cared, I reminded myself. Besides, I thought poorly of him, too!
“Twenty is a little old to still be in school,” I remarked. “Did you flunk a few grades?”
He snorted. “Hardly.”
“Then why—” The words ground to a halt. “Never mind.” Duh. He was still in school because there was no better place to sell his drugs.
The car finally eased to a stop in front of a small, dilapidated house. The windows were sealed shut and the gray rocks were chipped and unpainted. The lawn was dry and yellowed, brittle looking.
“Welcome to my home,” Erik said without any hint of pride. He exited the car.
“Open,” I commanded the door. It was a weak command and the monitors didn’t pick it up. I just, well, didn’t want to get out of the car. That house might collapse at any moment. But Erik was at my side in the next instant, opening the door manually and wrapping an arm around my waist. He eased me to my feet.
Common sense demanded I not touch this boy who had disappointed me so sublimely, who had insulted me and considered himself better than me, despite his own stained past (and present). But I found my physical body didn’t agree with my mind, and before I knew it I was resting my head on his bare shoulder. His skin was warm, smooth. He smelled good, like heat and moonlight.
Ugh. How stupid was I to still think of him that way? He’s bad, remember? Bad, bad, bad.
“So what were you doing at the club?” I asked. “Buying Onadyn to sell to the kids at school?” There. The reminder chased away my enjoyment of being in his arms.