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I darted forward, taking a stab at him when he twisted for another look behind him. He onlyjustmanaged to knock my hand away, going for a grab of my wrist, but missing. I slipped free and danced back two steps, ready to try again, my body electric with energy.
“Shit,” he cursed. “What the fuck are you doing?”
He tipped his head to one side as though seeing me in a new light.
“Who are you with?” he asked suddenly, his bright eyes darkening, hooded by drawn brows. “Who the fuck sent you?”
He stepped forward and I gave a warning swipe. “Don’t think I won’t carve up that pretty face,” I warned. “Just turn your ass around andleave.”
“I can’t do that.”
A moment of brittle silence passed between us, and a scowl twisted his features. I hadn’t noticed before, he usually wore long sleeves at school, but now, in nothing but a loose tank, I saw that he was covered in tattoos. Just like Rook. One entire arm. A half sleeve on the other. Except Rook’s seemed to be done in shades of black and Grey’s were all painted in vivid color.
“Who are you with?” he asked again, each word dripping venom as his fists clenched. “The Aces? Did they plant you—”
“I’m not with a gang, asshole,” I spat, trying to judge whether or not I could get away if I tried a second time to run. I’d have to incapacitate him first. A good slice to the inner thigh would do it if I could get close enough. He might even survive if someone found him within a few minutes and got him to an emergency room.
But I didn’t hear anyone else coming. Besides, then what would I do?
Run? Hide?
Grey’s eyes carved a path up and down my body, taking in my jogging pants and cropped tank. My running shoes.
“Little late for a run, isn’t it?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I muttered, not sure why I was continuing a conversation with a guy who was clearly part of a murder-in-progress not even half a mile up the hill.
Grey lifted his shirt, turning to show that he was unarmed. He stooped to lift the edge of his jeans, too, showing his ankles, keeping a steady eye on me the whole time. He had more tattoos on his calves and the outline of something started on his ribs.
“I’m not armed,” he said. “You say you’re not with a gang? I’m going to need you to prove that if I’m going to let you go.”
Let me go?
“Yeah, right,” I said under my breath. As if he was just going to let me go after what I’d just witnessed.
He arched a brow. “You see something you shouldn’t have?” he asked dubiously.
“I didn’t see anybody.”
Shit.
“I mean, I didn’t seeanything.”
“Well thatnobodyearned what he’s getting tonight...if it makes you feel any better.”
“I don’t give a fuck. Not my business.”
That seemed to surprise him, and he pursed his lips, eyes flitting to the blade and back to me again. “I’ll ask you again, new girl; Did you see something you shouldn’t have?”
“Depends,” I countered, challenging him. Praying that he wouldn’t tell the others I was here. “Didyou?”
He grinned. “Maybe. Maybe not.Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether or not you have gang ink.”
I frowned.
