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“You canceled our date and haven’t responded to me,” Dylan said. “I thought maybe you were avoiding me.”
There was no hint of playfulness in Dylan’s voice. She gripped the box tightly and narrowed her eyes at him like a cat ready to pounce.
“I’ve had some things to take care of,” she snapped. “I don’t have to update you on everything I do every waking moment.”
Dylan knew that her anger was misdirected. The tone still stung, though, and it made him want to drive off somewhere else, like California, and soak his pain in tequila and sun.
But Rose found herself closing her eyes and breathing in deeply. Her breasts looked like pieces of art, rising and falling beneath her shirt.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve got a lot going on right now. It’s stressing me out. But I want to see you again. Just give me some time.”
Dylan wasn’t completely sure how to take her, but he nodded anyway. He slid farther onto the passenger's side seat and then held out his hand to hers. She looked at it, a little baffled, then took it like he was holding out a dead fish.
“I hope you know I mean what I said,” Dylan murmured. “I want to help you relax. Let me know when I can do that for you.”
Dylan watched as a shiver moved through his beloved, and it satisfied him to see that he was still able to affect her.
She nodded solemnly, then let go of his hand.
“I will do that,” she whispered.
Dylan smiled and moved into the driver’s seat. He drove away from the school, feeling something gritty growing in his throat. He pulled into a fast-food joint on impulse and parked in the farthest slot. Against his better judgment, he hid in the shadows and watched as Rose curved around the school, her heels clicking by.
He felt gross doing what he was about to do, but something was nagging at him like an unreachable itch. He watched her walk by the fast-food parking lot and then proceeded to follow her, staying a fair distance away.
She was lost in her mind, vastly unaware of her surroundings. He had never seen her so flustered, so irritated, seemingly over nothing. But it wasn’t anything, was it?
Dylan’s heart slammed inside him as he stayed behind a few cars, watching her walk with the box held against her chest. Eventually, she wound up at a strip mall not too far from the school. Within the strip mall was an exterior food court, and Dylan watched as she sauntered in, still appearing cautious.
Dylan parked a few cars behind the entrance to the mall. He hunched over and watched as Rose moved through the food court, only glancing behind her a few times.
Whatever she was doing, it was something she wasn’t comfortable with. That wasn’t Rose’s style. She was a feminist and empowered, one of the main traits that Dylan was drawn to. She wasn’t ever going to do anything she wasn’t okay with ... unless something was being held over her head.
Dylan tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as Rose’s figure began to fade.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself.
Dylan climbed out of the car and walked with his head lowered to the mall entrance. He kept his hands in his pockets, turning his body inward to shrink. He decided to lean against the wall that curved around to the food court and gaze at his phone, appearing like he was waiting for someone.
He wanted to be ready to pull the trigger on shifting should Rose be in danger. It wasn’t the most well-constructed idea considering she would likely be enraged by him following her in the first place.
But he told himself, one thing at a time.
He glanced around the corner, trying not to look like the creep that he felt he was. When he thought that Rose was going to round another curve, she stopped at a bench that sat just outside a record store.
Dylan furrowed his brow, flicking his gaze up briefly at the store’s name.
“Slick and Sound,” it read.
Alarm bells rang in Dylan’s head before he even laid eyes on the man who was responsible for every slice of pain in his heart.
Slick Dick came around the corner and sat on the bench that Rose was hovering over. It was him ... the large, bulbous frame and gaudy clothing stood out like a bursting star in the sky.
Dylan felt his blood run cold at the sight of him, and his mind began swirling with confusion. Rose handed Slick the box, and she proceeded to sit next to him, her legs and hands clenched together like a frozen seashell.
He had risked too much already, so Dylan decided to bolt. His confusion and anger were blasting through him, making him see red. He jumped into the car as fast as he could before the beast in him took the helm.
He zipped back home, his mind moving like a train flying off the rails. What the hell was Rose doing meeting up with the man she knew was responsible for Jazzy’s death? And why was she hiding that from him?
