“Totally.” She twirled the lock. “My parents took my phone, and I feel completely naked without it.” She frowned when she heard him laugh under his breath. “It’s not funny, Jay.”

“I knew something was up when your dad answered and said I’d have to talk to you at school. So, what’d you do?”

She concentrated intensely on her combination, on lining the numbers up just so. As if she hadn’t done it a thousand times before. As if she couldn’t do it in her sleep.

She lifted one shoulder, trying to act as if it were nothing when she answered him. “I got picked up by the police last night.” Despite her nonchalant tone, she cringed inwardly. It wasn’t like she really expected him to just let that pass.

Jay didn’t disappoint. “What the . . . ? What do you mean, picked up by the police? Where were you? Why?”

Violet sighed dramatically and threw her arms down to her sides, momentarily giving up on her lock. “Okay, so technically it was breaking and entering, but we didn’t actually get charged. Rafe stole a key to the dead girl’s house—the one I found in that warehouse the other night—and when we were there the cops showed up. Sara had to bail us out.” She batted her lashes at him, trying to look as innocent as possible. She’d seen it work a thousand times on TV.

His voice came out sounding constricted from between his clenched teeth, but Violet had to hand it to him, he wasn’t freaking out or anything. “If you weren’t arrested, then why did Sara have to bail you out?”

“So, bailed out isn’t precisely the right word, but you know what I mean. She had to come and rescue us. Plus, they called my parents.”

Jay chewed on that for a minute, his eyes narrowing. But then his expression shifted, and he leaned casually against the locker. Violet started to wonder if he was enjoying this part. Seeing her squirm and all. “And they took your phone?”

“Exactly,” she sighed.

He surprised her then by grinning. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Think about it, it could’ve been so much worse.”

Violet turned back to her locker and spun to the last number in her combination before lifting the lever. The door rasped metallically when it opened. “How? They might as well have teleported me back to the nineties.”

“Did they ground you?” he asked, moving closer, so that he was right beside her now, leaning over her shoulder . . . his breath at her neck.

She scowled, refusing to acknowledge that they hadn’t.

“And you said yourself you didn’t get charged with anything.” The levity in his voice was beginning to grate on Violet’s nerves. No one should be so . . . cheerful.

She pulled out her books and slammed the locker shut again, not caring that she’d slammed it unnecessarily hard. She just wanted him to stop making it sound like her parents had done her a favor by taking away her cell phone. No matter how you looked at it, it was a bad move on their part. She’d tried to explain that to them, telling them they were putting her in danger by leaving her without any way to call for help if she needed it.

They’d countered with the fact that she shouldn’t be putting herself in situations where she needed help that badly. They also threatened to pull her from the team, to force her to stop working with Sara altogether if she got in that kind of trouble again.

Violet supposed Jay was right: She should be glad it was only a cell phone violation.

“Come on, jailbird,” he said, leaning down and kissing the top of Violet’s head. His breath tickled her scalp. “Let’s get you to class before you add detention to your rap sheet.”

Engagement

HE CREPT IN QUIETLY, MORE CAUTIOUSLY THAN he had before. He knew he’d waited too long to return, but he’d been angry; her rejection had stung.

He desperately hoped she was ready now.

This time, when he lit the candle, he stood there longer than he needed to, watching as the flame sputtered and waved, casting luminous shadows on the wall behind it. He waited, letting the scent of the smoke reach him, settling his jangled nerves before turning to face her.

Just like before, her eyes were wide, her expression expectant. He prayed it was a good sign. A sign that she’d come around.

He smiled at her, a peace offering. It was small, bashful, childlike. He felt butterflies erupt in his stomach as he watched her. She remained still, her gaze never leaving him. He clutched the tray in nervous fingers as he stepped nearer to the bed where she lay resting.

“I’m sorry I stayed away so long,” he apologized, remorseful. “But I needed you to understand. You must follow the rules.” He said the last part firmly, hoping he didn’t sound like he was scolding her. He didn’t want to frighten her.

But this time, she nodded, and he felt confidence swell within his chest. Tears of a different sort filled his eyes and he released a grateful breath from between clenched teeth.

“Thank God,” he whispered, setting the tray on the bedside table. “I knew you’d get it. I knew I hadn’t made a mistake by choosing you.” He lifted his hand to the rag that bound her mouth. He raised his brows expectantly. “No noise, right?”

She shook her head, assuring him that he’d been right about her. That she was perfect for him.

His shoulders sagged in relief. “Good. Now, are you thirsty?” He tugged the gag away from her swollen lips. At the sight of them, his heart ached. He wanted to tend to them immediately. They were cracked and bleeding, and he needed to make them soft again, uninjured. But first she had to have water. Girls never survived long without water.