The Bad Boy's Dance (41 page)

              Jared thrashed, forcing me to press the blade deeper into his skin. My face was inches from his, and our chests heaved. Anger and betrayal warred for dominance in his expression as his eyes darted to the phone in my hand. And then he breathed the one word that allowed me to think he’d finally realized I was serious.

              “Why?”

              The pain and hurt in his eyes glassed into a cold, clinical blankness that somehow terrified me way more than his out of control emotions.

              “Hello?” I’d never heard Paul sound so utterly miserable in my life. My eyes locked with Jared’s as I spoke.

              “Paul, it’s me.”

              “Oh my- Ivy? Is it really you? Guys, guys it’s Ivy! Where are you? What happened?!”

              Who else was there with him?

              “Paul, listen, I don’t have time. I don’t know where I am, but it’s where Jared lives. Ask his parents or his lawyers, get the police, and-”

              My words were cut short when Jared bucked to the right, sending me flying sideways. The phone clattered from my hand, sliding across the wooden floor. I heard the distant sound of Paul’s shouting voice.

              Jared crawled toward me, and I recoiled just as he lunged to take the switchblade. He coiled a hand in my hair and yanked me toward him until one of my flying limbs connected to his stomach. He released me as he doubled over, dropping his head to the floor as he wrapped an arm around his midsection.

              I was crawling towards the phone as fast I could when I felt his hand on my ankle, dragging me back. Flipping over, I slashed his cheek with my blade, splattering blood on both of us. “You bitch!” he screamed, and brought his fist against my cheek, knocking my head into the floor with its force. My vision blurred and darkened at the corners, giving Jared the opportunity to haul me between his legs. He put a hand around my waist, trapping me against his chest.

              Blood dripped to the ground around us. I felt a pressure at my chest, and my lungs seized to find Jared had twisted the blade in my hand so the tip was over my own heart.

              Jared smiled, a grotesque sight to behold with the blood running in rivulets from his cheek and coating his mouth and chin. “I love you. I will always love you. And if you won’t let me have you, nobody will.”

              He used the arm around my waist to tug me closer, consequently pressing the blade deeper against my heart. He moved his mouth to my ear, his hot breath tickling my skin as tears ran down my cheeks, mingling with salty blood.

              “Don’t worry, my love. I won’t let you be by yourself. I’ll follow you, just like it should have been the night you were taken from me.”

              Oh my God. He was going to reenact what had happened the night I’d tried to kill myself.

              He was going to kill me. And then he was going to kill himself.

              “Please, no,” I sobbed, my shoulders heaving. “Don’t do this, Jared. Please.”

              It was like I hadn’t said anything. A kind of peacefulness had fallen over him like a curtain, and he merely wiped away my tears. He wrapped his both his hands over my blade-wielding hand, digging it deeper into me.

              His clear moss green eyes met mine, and for a second, I thought I saw a glimpse of him. The Jared who had taken me for walks every Saturday night, spent hours stargazing with me even though it’d bored him. The Jared who had been nervous when he’d waited outside my locker to ask me out on a date, the one who’d sworn he’d care for me till the end of time.

              It was fleeting, and he brushed a strand of my hair out of my eyes before returning it to cover my hand and the blade. After everything, I didn’t think it was possible for anything he said to chill me to the bone, but his next words did.

              “If you bleed, I bleed,” he whispered.

              And with his hands still trapping mine over the weapon, he plunged the blade into my heart.

    Chapter

Thirty-Three

   Moon Cheese n’ Donuts Please

Bursts of light dancing across my vision as I stared at the knife protruding from my chest.

Pain, unbearable pain. Make it stop.

              A bang, the screeching of steel, and suddenly my private bubble of hell was filled with movement, colors.

              A voice screaming my name as I slumped to the ground….

              ….beeping. Beeping. Beep. Beep. Beep. “Will she be okay?” A choked voice. So familiar….darkness once more.

              Beep…Beep…

             
Beep.

              It felt like someone had super glued my eyelids shut. They wouldn’t open.

             
Okay, count of three, yank those suckers up!

             
One! Two! Three!

              My eyes cracked open.

              Blinking a few times, it took several minutes to adjust to the unique fluorescent lighting. When my vision cleared, I realized I was in a hospital room, complete with an IV in my right arm, one of those flimsy gowns, and a muted television on the wall.

              When I saw a head of midnight hair resting on the bed, sleeping, I freaked.

              Then, when I realized it was Asher, I freaked again.

              The vast relief that swept through me like a tidal wave was overwhelming. I hadn’t allowed myself to entertain the possibility that he hadn’t made it out of the clearing in the woods alive, but the notion had festered in my conscious like a blister. The rollercoaster emotions running through my veins said something I’d known all along, but hadn’t acknowledged until I’d almost lost him.

              He was sleeping at an uncomfortable angle. His body was in the chair, but he’d scooted it to the edge of my head, and his torso and head were lying next to my leg. His face was turned towards me, and I traced his cheekbone with the tip of my index finger carefully. There were shadows under his eyes and stubble on his jaw, but even haggard and exhausted, he was beautiful enough to knock the breath right out of me all over again.

              I smoothed a lock of his hair away from his forehead, smiling when he nuzzled into my hand.

              Then, I promptly whacked him hard on the head.

              Asher shot out of his chair, arms careening as he stumbled in a dazed stupor. He groped for his calf-he really bought his gun into the freaking hospital?- but relaxed after a second, yawning and scrubbing at his eyes. I watched him blink a few times, frowning at the chair as if it had committed some great offense. He was reaching to scratch his neck when his eyes met mine.

              Shock sparked the vivid cobalt eyes to life. Asher’s jaw dropped, and I couldn’t help the giggle I released. He looked so comically astonished.

              “You’re awake,” he breathed.

              “Yep.”

              “You’re not dead.”

              “Nope.”

              “You hit me on the head.”

              “Three for three.”

              Asher looked like he was seconds away from disturbing the IV in the crook of my elbow and tucking me under his arm. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if he punted me like a football, such was his excitement.

              “Aren’t you going to ask why I hit you on the head?” I asked primly, knotting my fingers together on my chest after raising my bed a bit.

              Asher still looked like he was dazed. “’Cause you’re a freak?”

              I scowled. “No-well, yes, but that’s beside’s the point- it’s because my boyfriend is an idiot.”

              Asher arched an eyebrow, but I saw his eyes light up when I called him my boyfriend. “What’d that bastard do now?”

             
Do not let him make you laugh! Fight the funny!

             
“Well, you see, we were in this situation. Quite the dire situation, really. He was being very kick-ass, fighting the bad goonies and everything, when all of a sudden, he gets distracted. He knows better than to let himself be distracted, but he still runs after his girlfriend, who is being kidnapped. Therefore, the last thing the girlfriend is treated to before it was bye-bye-birdy was the sight of a gun leveling and shooting at her idiot boyfriend.”

              Asher was speechless
. Someone
call the press, please, this is a Kodak moment.

              He returned to his seat on the chair, scooting even closer to the bed. He scrutinized me for an instant before doing the last thing I expected.

              The butthead burst into laughter.

              Honestly, he laughed so long and hard I worried the nurse would try to hook him up to an IV too, just in case he coughed up a lung or a liver. I frowned, tapping my fingers on my arm, waiting for him to finish.

              Asher wiped at his eyes, still lightly chortling. His expression slowly transitioned into one of seriousness and sorrow. “You’ve just woken up, your last memory of getting stabbed in the heart, and the first thing you ask about is if I’m all right? You really are an angel, aren’t you?”

              Nuh-uh. He hadn’t seen me during my chocolate phase. I’d raided every member of my family’s secret food stash and pigged out like royalty. I still felt guilty every time I saw a Hershey’s bar. But that was neither here nor there.

              “What happened? How’d I get here? Where…where’s Jared?” I whispered, my voice hitting a high note as the memories of how I’d ended up in the hospital flooded to the forefront again.

              Asher took my hand into his, weaving his fingers with mine. “He was arrested.”

              “How did you guys find me?” I murmured. It felt like with every thump of my heart, an invisible blade embedded in it. Jared stabbed me. He’d
stabbed
me. Shivers erupted over my skin, and Asher pushed the blankets over my shoulders.

              Asher’s face darkened as the recounted the details. “We were all in your living room when you called Paul. The police managed to get a location from the signal of your phone, and we booked it like bats out of hell. The cops were going to go get a professional to open the gate the son of bitch had installed in front of his door, but I just shot the lock to bits. Paul and Spencer came in a second behind me, but by then it was too late.”

              Here, Asher’s voice cracked, and he absently tightened his hold on my hand. “God, it was the single most terrifying moment of my life. Your back was to me, but I could see his face. He had this twisted look of satisfaction, and I didn’t understand why until you fell to the side and I saw the blade. The police restrained him before he could use it on himself, and they took him away. I…angel, I thought you were dead.”

              My heart broke for him. I could only imagine him bursting in on the horrific scene. Asher closed his eyes briefly when I ran my fingers down his cheek. When he opened them again, the cobalt was a fierce blue, electrocuting me to the core.

              “I was going to kill that fucker. I really was. Spencer had to punch me twice before I realized you needed my help more than revenge. We took you to the emergency room, and the doctors gave us the best news. Jared had pushed the blade in hard, without aim. So the knife nicked your ribcage and wedged in between the bones, which took an almost-surgery to remove. But it
missed your heart
.”

              “Thank goodness. It would be really corny walking around with a scar on my heart. Get it? Scar, like surgical? No?” I cracked. Everything he’d said was information overload, and I needed to keep it locked up and shut to deal with at a later time if I was every going to get released from this hospital without a trip down the psychiatric ward.

              Asher rolled his eyes, but he seemed to understand my reluctance.

              Huffing, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Tough crowd.”

              Stretching, Asher raised his arms above his head, straining the muscles under his black T-shirt and making the inky swirls of his tattoo move.

             
Damn, I want me a slice of that sugar. His biceps are so yummy. He should stretch more. Maybe next time he can try to touch his toes and flex that lovely tush.

             
Asher looked at me funny. “What?”

              Please, please tell me I farted or something and he didn’t hear me say that.

              A wicked smile spread over his lips, and my cheeks ignited faster than a match on kerosene. Asher leaned over me, his hands balancing him on either side of my head on the pillow. He brushed his lips across my cheekbone, my eyelid, my nose.

              His lips dropped to my ear. “You really have a thing for my ass, don’t you? Don’t think I didn’t notice you copping a feel when you were drunk, or when we were in the woods. And that was even before you admitted your wild attraction to me.”

              Asher gently bit my earlobe as he delivered the last line. “And baby, I’ll stretch for you any day.”

              He pulled back, grinning at my slack-jawed expression. He flipped his phone open, read something, and groaned lightly.

             
Words. They come out of our mouth…how do they connect? What language do I speak again? Bonjour?

             
While my brain unscrambled itself from Asher’s assault on my estrogen levels, he dropped his phone into his pocket and straightened his shoulders. “We have about five seconds of peace left. Remember, don’t move too-”

              The door burst open.

              “Make that two seconds,” Asher muttered, stepping away from my bed.

              Paul, Spencer, Dana, Caleb, and Kyle funneled into my room. My eyes were half-shut, so they didn’t immediately realize I was awake. Paul took Asher’s seat while Spencer threw himself at the foot of my bed at picked up the remote. Dana and Caleb dragged chairs on the opposite side of the bed from Paul and started arguing about something. Kyle grabbed a magazine and flipped through it from his perch on the floor.