I turn to Olive. “Do you know what kind?”
She gives me a look like, bitch please. “An Escalade EXT,” she says. “That’s by Cadillac, if you didn’t know.”
Normally I’d snark back at the little smartass, but I’m too weirded out to bother.
“I don’t know anyone who drives that,” I say, running through the Dolce cars in my head. I’ve seen all their cars and Mr. Dolce’s when I went to their house. I’ve also seen the cars all their friends drive, and though I wasn’t paying much attention, I can picture every single one when I try—the Waltons all drive sports cars, and Cotton drives a Jeep. DeShaun drives a truck, but it’s not an Escalade. And every single one of them is in Utah right now.
But there are other rich people in this town. Including one who drove a nice SUV that was wrecked and maybe replaced with a truck, a boy who had his face messed up and might want to cover it if he hasn’t had all his surgeries.
“Did he have blond hair?” I ask, swallowing hard.
“Dunno,” Blue says, tossing water into the muddy grass. “He was wearing a beanie.”
“Did he have neck tats?” I ask. “Or on his hands?”
Blue shrugs. “I didn’t notice, honestly. I don’t think so, but the mask was distracting, and I got a weird vibe and went in the house after he asked about you.”
“Well, thanks,” I say. “If you see him again, text me, okay?”
Not that it matters. I don’t have my phone.
I go around the house, looking at the man’s footprints in the mud. It rained for the first week of break, but it hasn’t rained for the next four days. And there are more than one set of footprints. I crouch down, trying to swallow and not panic. There are two different patterns from the shoes he wore, but they look about the same size. One is new, but the other is older, the mud oozing in to obscure the edges, partly dried.
I squeeze my eyes closed and try to breathe. He’s been here before today. Was I inside the house? Was someone looking in my windows at me? Or casing the place, waiting for me to be home so he can attack?
I head inside, but it’s hard not to feel jumpy when there’s mysterious creepers sniffing around. Is he a mafia guy? What if he planted a spy camera somewhere?
I’m almost freaked out enough to message Mr. D, giving in again. I could use some protection. But then, who’s to say he wasn’t the one here, trying to scare me into doing exactly that? And if he’s in jail, he can’t protect me. I cut him off, anyway. He’s probably pissed and wouldn’t spare more resources for me even if he could.
I check all the blinds and find a couple that are crooked, leaving a spot in one corner that someone could look through. My skin crawls as I open the windows and examine the windowsills for anything strange, like a little bead. I’m not sure what spy cameras actually look like, but I’m not taking any chances. I tell myself I’m being ridiculous and paranoid, but I know better. I’ve crossed some very powerful people in this town, and I don’t expect to walk away without a scratch. The other shoe will drop. The only question is, when?
And who was outside my house?
It wasn’t one of the Dolces… At least, I don’t think so. Gloria could have posted the pictures yesterday but taken them days ago. Or it could have been King, the one from New Yokr. He’s not in any of the spring break pictures. Still, Blue’s seen the Dolce boys before. If it was even someone who resembled them, she would have guessed it was them before anyone else. They could have sent one of their friends, but it’s not like them to be sneaky.
Mr. D could definitely have come around. He knows where I live. I’m not sure why he’d wear a mask, considering he wanted to meet when we first started talking. But then, he did refuse later, when I asked. If he needed to wear a mask, though, that means he’s someone I know, and he didn’t want me to recognize him. That makes me shiver even harder.
The last option is Colt. The mask makes sense in a way, both to hide his bandages or because I would recognize him. If he’s sneaking around, though, that means he’s after me. My heart hurts at the thought that he’s one more person who wants to take me down. We were friends, kindred spirits.
But I can’t blame him for hating me now. I got him beaten almost to death. And worse, I didn’t avenge him for that, the way any halfway decent friend would. Hell, the way any decent human being would. Instead, I fell in love with his attacker, even knowing he was a monster who wasn’t just capable of such a thing but that he would nearly kill my friend right in front of me, not because he had something personal against him but to prove a point to me. Royal’s coldness in that moment chilled me to the bone, but it didn’t stop me from loving him.
Now I’ve got nothing to show for it. I lost them both. Colt’s gone, knowing I’m a traitor of the worst sort. Royal’s gone, thinking I’m a traitor but not knowing how right he is. Gloria’s gone, though she doesn’t know yet that I betrayed her as well.
I have no friends left in this town, not even an anonymous man online. There’s no one I can trust. Even Blue would toss me out of the lifeboat at the first threat to Olive. Hell, for all I know the guy wasn’t wearing a mask at all, she just made that up because he told her not to tell me what he looked like. If he even glanced at Olive, she’d take that as a threat. And she doesn’t owe me shit. Why would she? I’ve proven that the only person I’m loyal to is myself.
Only now do I realize how dangerous that is. I thought I was keeping myself safe, not caring about anyone, not relying on anyone. But now, when I need protection, I’m alone. I’m the prey straying from the herd, and the predators are circling. I’m not just a lone gazelle being eyed by a lion, either. I’m a lone gazelle about to step on a boa constrictor while being circled by a pride of lions, a pack of hyenas, a leopard, and a cheetah.
I’m not being paranoid. And I’m not scared. I’m fucking petrified.
*
Wish You Were Here
Three brothers
With three friends flanking,
Six girls tucked in our arms,