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“Cole?” I say, trying to ground him. He looks so lost. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” he replies, devoid of any emotion. “This doesn’t belong to me.”
Relief sinks into me, quickly followed by a rush of concern. “Who does it belong to?” because if it isn’t Cole’s, that means…
“No one.”
“No one?” I repeat, a pit carving through my stomach as I frown at him, willing him to open up and let me in.
“You said I could clean up?” He ignores my question.
“Oh, um… yeah. Go on then.” I flick my head to the bathroom door. “The towel is clean.”
Cole reaches behind him and pulls off his hoodie in one swift action, letting it fall to the floor. My eyes immediately drop to his chest. His shoulders are broad and powerful, his waist lean and cut. It’s all kinds of wrong, but a bolt of lust shoots through me.
A slow smirk spreads over his face as he closes the space between us and runs his dirty, blood-stained knuckles over my cheek. I crane my neck to look into his eyes and he shakes his head. “You’re playing with fire,” he warns before storming into the bathroom.
I bend down and pick up his hoodie, my fingers trembling as they ghost over the bloodstains.
Oh Cole, what did you do?
There’s no sign of Remi and the Jagger brothers the next morning, when I finally make it to class. I’m late, but I didn’t sleep well, lost in a dark and twisty nightmare. Cole. Blood-soaked clothes. A pit of dread in my stomach.
Mr. Jennings
struggles to hold my attention as he talks about finals, but I’ll have no choice but to get focused for cheer practice next period.
“You look like crap,” Tia Henderson says, shouldering past me as we file out of class.
“You look good too, Tia,” I reply dryly.
She glances back and narrows her eyes. “Lylah will expect you—”
“Lylah can go suck a dick,” I mumble, really not in the mood for their crap today.
A couple of kids snicker, but Tia isn’t laughing. “You should watch your back, Hadley. Just because Miss Jones has a lady boner for you, doesn’t mean you're untouchable.”
“Whatever, Tia.” I move ahead of her and take off toward the gym, ignoring her catcalls.
She’s a bitch.
Most of the cheer squad are.
But I only have to suffer another few months of them and then I’m done.
I slip into the girls’ locker room and throw my bag down on the bench. I’m halfway through stripping out of my school uniform when a conversation catches my attention.
“Yeah, I heard they found a body. A dead freakin’ body.” Lylah and some of the girls are crowded around Daria Balen. Her daddy is a cop.
“Oh my God... murder?” Someone gasps, and my spine stiffens as I strain to hear more.
“That doesn’t happen in a place like the Bay,” Lylah scoffs. “The Heights, sure... but not here.”
“They’re saying it wasn’t murder.” Daria purses her lips. “I heard my daddy say they’re treating it as suicide. Guy blew his own head off.”
“Eww, gross.” A couple of girls dry-heave, and I roll my eyes. They’re so fucking green.
“Yeah, well, it was a crazy weekend. First homecoming and the stuff with Michaela and Bexley, and then Sunday morning, they find the dead body. Daddy isn’t convinced though. I heard him tell my mom something doesn’t add up...”
