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Anger flushes my cheeks as I gaze back at him. “Leave me alone, Matt. Really.”
“I’m actually going home, too. Can we share an Uber?”
“What? Are you stupid?” His look darkens. “You literally blackmailed me and then tried to choke me in a custodial closet, and you want me to justsharea ride with you?”
“It was for your own good,” he snaps, and I flinch involuntarily.
He sits down beside me, and I scoot away from him. He smells like Patchouli and beer, and it makes my stomach churn.
A text from Lincoln pops up on my phone. I swipe it up, not bothering to read it, and hold down the button to turn off my phone before shoving it angrily into my pocket.
“Here,” he says, handing me a bottle of water. “You can probably use this more than me.”
I look at the bottle warily.
“Relax” he says, rolling his eyes. “I just got it from the convenience store across the street.” I don’t trust him, but it looks like a sealed bottle. “For fuck’s sake,” he says. Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a receipt and waves it in my face. “Did you need proof that I just bought it?”
I snatch the water from him, twisting off the cap and taking a long swallow of the cold liquid.
“I’m not sharing a ride with you,” I say, scooting farther away.
He stiffens but doesn’t move, and we sit in silence until a white Toyota Camry pulls up to the curb. I’m annoyed that it took closer to ten minutes for the guy to arrive. I stand and the ground tilts under my feet.
“Shit,” I mutter, throwing my hands up for balance as Matt catches my bicep.
Maybe I’m more drunk than I thought.
His touch makes my skin crawl, and I try to snatch my arm away from him. “Back off,” I growl, but my words are slurring.
When I move to step into the car, everything spins, and I almost fall again. Matt opens the door and pushes me inside.
“Charlie?” the Uber driver asks.
“That’s me,” Matt says. “Sorry, my girlfriend had a bit too much to drink.”
Alarm bells start going off in my head.
“She better not puke in here,” the Uber driver says, watching me from the rearview mirror.
“Nah, man, I think she’s okay.”
“S’not bffriend,” I slur.
Something’s seriously wrong. My mouth won’t work right. Everything is coming out slow. My body is getting heavier.
“It’s okay, baby,” Matt says with a cruel smirk. “We’re going home now so I can take care of you.”
Panic blooms in my stomach as he leans over to press a hard, wet kiss against my mouth.
But I can’t stop it. My arms aren’t working, and I can’t talk.
A tear leaks from the corner of my eye as the car starts to move. The window is cold against my overheated cheek.
Then everything goes black.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
CHARLIE
