Chapter 18 #2
“What happened?” he asked, cocking his head. Green lasers fell in lines across his face. “Were you hurt?”
A thousand bruises, a couple sleepless nights, and a case of terminal paranoia later, and I still wasn’t sure how to answer either of those questions. I tried. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
Talons. Glowing tablets. Marks etched into my skin.
Somehow, I didn’t flinch, but my throat closed. Because Sky was watching me closely again, I dropped my gaze to the partially unbuttoned collar of his shirt. “I wasn’t hurt or anything. Thanks for asking.”
“Good,” he said quietly.
But the conversation had chased away some of my warm, buzzing contentment. I turned my head, searching for Amelia. I hadn’t seen her in a while. Or Emerick.
Then Sky asked: “So what really happened at the school?”
The words registered and chilled my insides.
Electricity. Smoke. The robot. The light.
This time, I gave up my pathetic attempt at dancing and stopped altogether in the center of the dance floor, not even caring how it looked.
I was too focused on the sick feeling curdling in my gut.
It didn’t help that Sky was pushing again.
Like he had after the accident, and at Oasis.
This time I knew I hadn’t imagined it. He was pushing, and he still hadn’t freaking told me what he was doing here.
Why he’d shown up out of nowhere and why he was looking at me now like I was an equation he needed to solve.
A new, insidious thought slunk in like an oil spill.
Oh my God. None of this was real. He’d turned me into a mushy pile of hormones, and I was dumb enough to fall for it. What if he was just trying to get information out of me?
I was an idiot for believing someone who looked like him would be interested in somebody like me. I’d fallen right for that you-look-great-in-that-dress line. Heat rushed into my cheeks—this time fueled by embarrassment.
I stepped back. Cooler air swirled in between us, kissing my scalding face. The vodka sloshed in my stomach.
Sky let his arms fall to his sides, and his brows tented as he watched me put distance between us. If he was acting, he was doing a damn good job. That looked like concern. Real concern. The downward tilt to his mouth, the tightening of his jaw.
I wavered. Maybe he didn’t have some ulterior motive. Maybe I was just overthinking.
God, this was a roller coaster. I didn’t particularly like roller coasters. They felt too out of control, which was, oddly enough, a perfect metaphor for my life right now.
I smoothed my dress with twitchy fingers and looked around at the dancing bodies, the swirling lights. It was easier to form coherent sentences when I wasn’t peering up at Sky’s stupidly perfect face.
“I’m not really sure what happened at the university,” I said, stretching my sleeve over my wrist, hiding my marked hand. “I hit my head and…I don’t remember anything after that.”
The bruises under my dress throbbed, a reminder of how big of a lie that really was.
Sky was quiet for a moment. We were still close enough that I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes when I finally chanced it. He was still watching me. Closely.
“You don’t remember what happened at the school?” he asked. “At all?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. There it was again—that tone. I didn’t like this. I’d swear it bordered on disbelief.
But what reason would he have to not believe me?
I lifted my chin. “No. I don’t remember anything.”
“I see.” He pursed his lips, gaze sliding to the crowd around us instead of me. But his tone was pointed as he asked, “So…is this kind of like you not knowing what ran you off the road the other day?”
My heart stuttered. The music faded beneath a buzzing in my ears. I gazed up at him, apprehension sloshing over me like a dark tide.
I wasn’t imagining shit. That was skepticism.
“I never said something ran me off the road,” I replied slowly, shuffling back a step. “I told you I swerved to avoid an animal.” I wrapped my arms around myself, pulse hammering at the base of my throat. “Remember?”
He turned his head. His searching stare found mine and didn’t waver. “Right. Of course. An animal.”
A chill slithered down my spine.
A group of people jostled me on their way by, laughing and yelling. I used the distraction to back up even more. Sky’s eyes narrowed, like my retreat bothered him. Or maybe it was my refusal to cave to his interrogation.
Screw it. Gathering my courage, I raised my voice over the music. “I’m just going to come out and ask. Are you accusing me of hiding something? Because I keep getting that feeling. Which is silly. Right?”
Despite the thumping track and loud voices, I knew he’d heard me just fine because the creases in his forehead deepened. I wanted him to agree with me. To laugh it off. He shook his head, opening his mouth, and something in his expression told me he was going to deny it.
Before he could say anything, before I could lose my momentum, more words spilled out of me.
“Because it feels like you’ve been trying to get me to fess up to some secret ever since you gave me that ride home.
” He closed his mouth. I paused, flushing a little under his scrutiny, and added, “Which I do appreciate. It was nice of you to stop and help me.” I squared my shoulders.
“But what I don’t appreciate is the insinuation that I’m lying—or that I owe you some kind of explanation. ”
I ran out of steam and, frankly, balls. I eyed him warily, shoulders heaving. God, where had the air gone in this place?
Sky didn’t respond right away. He seemed to be absorbing my rant. Or maybe coming up with an excuse. I didn’t know, but he was looking at me, unreadable as ever, bathed in shadow and neon light. The growing gap between us vibrated with tension, bass beats, and unspoken words.
I caught the barest flicker of…something crossing his face. Guilt? Frustration? It was too fast to tell. The rapid shift of emotion threw me off.
What would he have to feel guilty about? Accusing me of lying?
Well, he should.
I mean, I was. Lying. But it wasn’t like I owed him an explanation. It was my business. My life. Even if it was completely off the rails.
I had the overwhelming urge to throw my hands up and scream in frustration. Damn it, I’d just wanted a night of normalcy. Self-pity welled up along with the urge to cry, for some reason. I tightened my arms around my middle, hugging myself.
Like Sky’d glimpsed that surge of vulnerability, he hung his head and balanced his hands on his hips, muttering a curse. It was lost to Crescent’s din. When he raised his face, he looked determined, and he shifted his weight. As if he was about to close the space between us.
But I’d put it there for a reason, and that was the last thing I needed to maintain my tenuous grasp on my rationality. When I tensed, ready to back up again, he seemed to think better of it.
Instead, he lifted his hands, palms out.
“Raven, I’m not accusing you of anything.
This isn’t an attack. It’s not,” he insisted more firmly when I took a breath, prepared to argue.
His eyes shone with very convincing sincerity.
“I’m only saying…if something did happen, you could… I don’t know. Talk to me about it.”
I blinked at him, taken aback by the offer. “If something had happened, hypothetically, why would I talk to you about it? Of all people.”
“Because.” He let out a harsh breath, glanced over his shoulder, then leaned in. His dark gaze snared mine. “Because maybe I can help.”
I stared at him. Help? With what, the evil alien robots? What, was he going to scare them off, too, like he’d scared off that pushy guy? He was intimidating, but he wasn’t that intimidating. That thing in the lab for sure had him on shoulder width. Height, too. Overall scariness.
Certainly on bone-crushing capability.
My disbelieving laugh burst free. “Help how?” I asked, flinging my arms out. “You offering trauma counseling now? I thought you were just a bartender.”
His lips formed a tight line. A smidgen of guilt pricked my conscience. Just a bartender had sounded way more condescending than I’d meant it to.
I was so focused on this spiraling conversation, I didn’t see the couple flailing nearby until one of them collided into me from behind. Hard enough, I stumbled.
Sky reached out to catch me. His fingers landed right on the bruise on my upper arm.
Pain jolted my system. I jerked back, hissing through my teeth. “Shit!”
“What?” Sky yanked his hand back. His attention zeroed on the invisible bruise I was rubbing. “What is it? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I muttered. I wasn’t. The entire limb felt like it was going to fall off. “It’s just…from what happened at the college.”
“I thought you said you weren’t hurt.” He hadn’t looked away from the spot I held. In fact, he was staring at it grimly.
He was right, too. I had said that. Minutes ago. He was listening. A little too closely, a little too…attentively.
And there was that tone.
I hunched my shoulders and slowly released my arm. My heartbeat thudded off-kilter. “It’s just a bruise. And it’s none of your business.”
“Okay,” Sky said, tone even. The music’s frenzied beat nearly swallowed his words. “That’s fine.”
It wasn’t fine. None of this was. Because when his indigo eyes traced their way back to mine, I could clearly see he didn’t believe me. A muscle near his temple pulsed.
“You can tell me,” he said, confirming it. “I think you’d be surprised at how…open-minded I am, Raven.”
Oh, he was good. My actual name, spoken so quietly, in his low, mesmerizing voice…
But the spell was broken, and I was all tangled up now. Confused. More than a little irritated. Had this all been some ploy to get the truth out of me? To get me to admit something?
Why was he so convinced I was lying?
Unless…
Unless he knew I was. Because he knew something. Not suspected, but knew.
I smashed my lips together, forcing down the sudden lump lodging itself in my dry throat.
Unless he was the one hiding something.
Like he felt the weight of my suspicion, Sky’s expression closed off, and he eased back a step, giving me space again. Letting that gap between us stretch. He slipped his hands into his pockets, eyes trained on me. He didn’t reach for me again. Didn’t try to pull me back in. Didn’t say a word.
I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. Maybe a little of both. Relieved I could think clearer. That logic was trickling back.
Disappointed that this tiny slice of a dream was over. That cold, harsh reality had come crashing back in. The reality in which I was somehow smack dab in the middle of an alien infiltration.
And meanwhile, Sky…watched. Assessing.
Instincts stirred, prickled. Sunk claws deep.
I backed away from him until I reached the edge of the dance floor.
He didn’t chase me. He stood there, still and observant in the blur of moving bodies and strobing light. Only his eyes followed. Sharp enough to pierce right through my pounding chest. Full of awareness of a different kind now.
If I’d suspected it before, if my gut had been hinting at it…now I was certain.
Sky knew something. More than he was letting on. I was sure. He knew more about what happened on the road the other night, the university—all of it. The aliens.
Me.
And I didn’t know what to do with that.
It didn’t help that all I could think about was kissing him senseless.
So I spun on my heel and ran.