Page 129 of The Broken Note

I fix my clothes and slide off the hood of Dutch’s ruggedly expensive truck, landing to the grass on shaky legs. He sweeps those dangerous fingers over his blond hair, studying me with eyes the color of a dancing flame, honey and gold.

“I need to get back to school,” I murmur, failing to hide the slight tremor in my voice.

“You need to cool off first.” He gestures to my top. “And button up properly. Walk into Redwood looking that disheveled and everyone will know what we were doing.” His brows go up. “Not that I have a problem with that.”

My eyes flash. “I don’t need you telling me what I can and can’t do.”

“Your face is red, Cadey. Maybe try not to blush so hard when you make a point.”

I cup my cheek. “It’s from sunburn.”

He smirks.

Eager to get away, I march to the backseat and grab my phone.

Jinx’s message pops out at me.

Heart racing, I click on the video and watch the murky feed. It’s a shot taken from one of the cameras in the hallway near the classroom that burned. How did she get this footage? The police couldn’t pull anything from those cameras.

“What are you watching?” Dutch asks.

I jump in my skin, pause the video and hide it behind my back. “Nothing. Can we go now?”

He stares at me for a long, tense moment, and then he nods once.

“Let’s go.” Dutch opens the passenger side door for me.

“I’ll take the back.”

“From now on, you ride up front with me.”

I want to argue because it’s pure habit to be contrary at this point, but all I can think about is the video. The faster I get to Redwood, the faster I can view it privately.

Dutch starts driving.

“Your mother told me she had to fake her death because she saw something she shouldn’t have,” he says, and I shrug. Everything that comes out of mom’s mouth is questionable. The only thing I don’t doubt is the lengths she would go to find her next fix. “Do you know what she saw?”

“A murder apparently.” The confession rolls off my tongue with careless ease.

Dutch’s fingers tighten on the steering wheel and he whips around. In his eyes are a tight, smoldering frustration.

When I see his reaction, I realize how casual I made that sound.

“But she could be lying,” I add as he pulls into the parking lot of Redwood Prep. “It’s possible she just owed a debt she couldn’t pay and saw dying as an easy way out.”

He frowns at me.

“No one’s bothered us yet, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

“Yet?” He turns the engine off, pockets the keys and pins me down with his dark glare.

“You know as well as I do that mom’s not a reliable source.”

“She could be telling the truth this time.”

I shake my head. “She’s anaddict, Dutch.” I don’t normally share my thoughts so freely, but he’s already stepped into this mess. It’s not like I can pretend my life is something it isn’t. “She’ll do anything, say anything to convince you of her story.”

“People don’t fake their own deaths for the fun of it, Cadey.”