Page 60 of Lessons in Cruelty

At the next intersection, he taps the car’s console. Soothing classical music flows out of the sound system. Chopin’s Nocturne album, from the artwork on the screen. Must be to calm me down, because there’s not a tremor anywhere on his body…and I’ve been looking.

I don’t know why I expect him to head downtown. Maybe because he’s a teacher, and I assume they don’t make megabucks. But he’s only on the main road for a few minutes before he turns onto Earl Avenue, and we ascend one of the hills Hillside gets its name from.

I turn to stare out the window.

Agony Hollow might be a small town, but I know most of it. Like this road that winds up the side of the largest hill. There’s a steep cliff edge on one side, densely packed trees on the other.

We pass the lookout spot above Hollow Heights. It’s nothing more than a small alcove butting right up against the cliff’s edge. A concrete bench, a concrete bin, and enough parking for max three cars.

But the view…God, that view.

The entire town is visible. From the large multi-level homes we’ve just driven past, to more compact townhomes. Strips of businesses and apartments cluster tighter and tighter together as the grid condenses toward Hollow Way, the town’s main street, a road that cuts through our town at a diagonal until it intersects the Agony River at the lower half of the town. Past that, the squalor is blatant, even at this altitude.

Perhaps especially this high up.

I look away, swallowing.

“I’ve heard things are rough down there.” Bastian’s voice is low, a muted hum barely able to rival the Tesla’s tires on the road and the piano music. “Those poor people just can’t seem to drag themselves out of the mud.”

I want to tell him to fuck off. That the streets of Riverside are mud-free. Although the same can’t be said for rubbish, roaches, or rodents.

But the way he says it, it’s not like he’s pitying me. It’s like we’re sympathizing together.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ve never been up Earl Avenue before?”

“Not past Lookout Point. Thought there were only hunting cabins up here.”

I grimace at the thought. I went once, with my dad and uncle, but that was years before the remaining Lees fled Agony Hollow. I didn’t have a choice, and God, I wish I did.

“Not a big hunter. Noted.”

I huff, smiling a little. “You wanna talk about cruelty?”

“Debating the topic of my thesis with a freshman. Hm…” The little hum he makes is both sexy and condescending.

“Jerk!” I punch him on the arm before I realize what I’m doing.

But thank God he only chuckles as he turns off Earl Avenue onto a much smaller street that cuts through the firs covering these hills. The angle of the road changes, inclining even more than before.

We’re leaving civilization behind.

As the trees close in around us, I realize how truly alone we are. No houses in sight. No witnesses. Just me, alone in a car with a man who studies cruelty for a living.

The thought should terrify me.

Instead, I press my thighs together and try to stop thinking about the way he grabbed my hand earlier.

“If I see you headed for a cabin, I’m jumping out of this car,” I say, my voice wobbling a little.

He laughs. So wild, so beautiful, it makes me blush. Or maybe it’s the fact that I could make a mature, intelligent man like Bastian Rooke laugh.

“You think I could be that cruel to you, sweet girl?” There’s still laughter in his voice, but he stiffens and throws me a quick glance. “My apologies. That was…inappropriate.”

Sweet girl?

Those words, coming out of that mouth, make my pulse sing in my ears.