Page 73 of Our Little Secret
“Thanks.” Neal sketched out a wave with his free hand but didn’t release Brooke for a second.
Once the gate clanged shut behind them, Brooke jerked her hand from Neal’s punishing grip. “That was unnecessary!”
“No, that—what you did—was uncalled for. Jesus, Brooke, you didn’t have to go charging in there like a raging lunatic!” They reached her dented Explorer and Neal opened the side door, motioning her into the passenger seat.
“This is my car.”
“And you nearly killed me on the way over here! I’m driving home.”
She slid into the passenger seat. “You’re being an ass.”
“Am I?” He slammed the door shut and rounded the car to take his position behind the steering wheel. “Well, at least I didn’t act like a fucking psycho! You bullied your way into that gym like you were storming the damned Bastille.”
She didn’t respond. Just fumed.
And tried like hell to keep her real fears at bay.
Gideon.
Here.
At the school.
Pretending to be a security guard.
Knowing about Marilee.
Dear Lord, what a mess. She stared out the window past the leafless branches of the nearby trees to the sky above, where flimsy clouds wafted over a crescent moon.
But her thoughts were on Gideon and the lengths to which he would go to terrorize her.
She knew now he would never leave her alone.
And now he was involving her daughter.
She dug deep, found some resolve. Somehow, some way, she had to get rid of him.
Forever.
As that thought crossed her mind, she heard the whine of a motorcycle. Never had the sound been more ominous.
CHAPTER 17
“You absolutely mortified our daughter,” Neal said after several minutes of icy silence. His fingers drummed angrily on the Explorer’s steering wheel as they waited for the dance to be over. “I’d be surprised if she ever forgives you.” Sending her a suspicious glance, he added, “And all because you had a ‘feeling’?” Disbelief and anger colored his words. “There had to be something more for you to come that unglued!”
What could she say? “I was just worried.”
“Beyond worried!” he threw back at her. “Everyone who has a kid in this school is worried, but did you see anyone else bullying their way inside and racing through the gym with their hair on fire? No! Just you, Brooke. Just you!” He pounded the steering wheel with a fist. “What the hell is going on with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Bullshit! You’ve been acting like a crazy person for weeks!” He let out a long breath. “Or maybe even months.”
She didn’t respond.
“I feel like I don’t even know you anymore,” he admitted and watched the headlights of a pickup as the truck bounced into the lot.
“Maybe you never did,” she said.
