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“That’s Mackenzie’s house.” Either Libby lied about the parents being home tonight or she didn’t know what Mackenzie had planned.
Too many cars crowd the narrow street. Kids have jammed their vehicles into any random available spot on the sidewalk and on the lawns as well.
“Surprised no one’s called the cops yet,” Dex mutters.
I hadn’t thought of that. Now I’m even more eager to find Libby and take her home.
“Pull over here.” Dex gestures to a spot not quite large enough to fit into. “I’ll run in and get her. Text her so she knows to look for me and not you.”
I slam the car into park. “Okay.”
“Lock the door behind me,” he orders, shutting it with a hard thump.
I hit the locks and scrabble for my phone, then send Libby a quick message.
Dex is coming to get you.
Anxiety bubbles in my chest as my gaze scans the shadowy lawn, searching for any sign of Dex or Libby. Two drunk guys puking in the bushes. A couple making out in the shadows next to the house. It’s too dark to tell if any of them are friends of Libby’s that I recognize.
A few seconds later, I spot her bright yellow shirt bobbing toward me. A whoosh of relief passes my lips and I unlock the doors. Dex’s larger figure looms behind her like a lethal, high-priced bodyguard. He opens the back door and Libby throws herself across the seat.
“Thanks, Em,” she says breathlessly.
Dex slides into the passenger seat, reaches over, and curls his hand over my thigh, giving me a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
I shift the car into drive, check my side mirror, and pull onto the road again. “Everything all right, pudding?” I ask Libby.
She groans at the nickname. “I’m fine.”
I flick my gaze to the rearview in time to catch her crossing her arms over her chest and a pout pursing her lips. “Mackenzie said she was just having a few people over,” she explains. “Then more and more kept showing up. And then a bunch of older guys who graduated a few years ago came and brought alcohol. They were so gross and creepy.”
“You get their names?” Dex asks.
“I dunno.”
I side-eye Dex, but he’s stone-faced and staring straight ahead.
“I’m glad you texted me,” I say.
She sits forward, resting her arm on the back of my seat. “I’m sorry if I ruined your night.”
“Your safety’s more important,” Dex answers in a low, no-bullshit rumble. “That’s a neat system you set up with your sister.”
Libby presses her hands together and flutters her fingers like wings. “It means I’m ready to fly the coop.”
I chuckle.
“And I can blame having to go home on my mean big sister, so my friends don’t think I’m being a baby,” she adds.
“Happy to be your bad guy anytime.” I reach behind me, and she tickles two fingers against my open palm.
She sits back and stares out the window. Did she give me the whole story? Is Dex’s presence making her too uncomfortable to talk to me freely?
I slow the car and turn into my driveway then stop in front of the garage.
“I’m going to crawl into bed.” She tugs at a strand of her long hair and sniffs. “Eww, I reek of beer. I’ll be in the shower.” Libby flings open her door and darts up the sidewalk before I have a chance to respond.
Shaking my head, I reach for my purse and step out of the car. Dex meets me by the trunk.
