Page 11 of Trust Again
“I know, you’re not into people trying to help you,” I said. “But you sound like you’ve been crying for hours, and Sawyer Dixon just doesn’t cry.”
Sawyer lifted her head and looked at me blankly. Her makeup was smeared; gray streaks ran down her cheeks.
“Who should I kill? I know someone who owes me a favor,” I said.
She snorted.
“I hooked up with a guy a few days ago.”
“What did the asshole do to you?” I asked, trying to sound calm. Inside, my stomach was churning.
“We fooled around,” she began, clearing her throat.
“My necklace got caught in my hair, so I took it off, and now… it’s gone.” Her expression went blank again. “He says he has no idea what I’m talking about.”
“Is the necklace important to you?” I asked carefully, with a frown.
She nodded. It was a short, choppy motion and I could tell how hard it must be for her to share anything with me.
“It was my mom’s. It’s a pendant and…” She swallowed hard and briefly closed her eyes. Jagged breaths made her shoulders tremble, and I could hardly believe that this was my roommate.
Sawyer never revealed her feelings and was so closed-off that I sometimes wondered if she was human. If losing a necklace made her this upset, it must mean a lot to her. And if so, I wanted to help.
I dared to reach out and touch her arm. “Tell me where he lives.”
She frowned. “I don’t need a guardian angel.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re strong, independent, and fabulous, but sometimes it helps to have backup.” Our eyes met. “I’m going to get your necklace back for you.”
She shook her head, a slight smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I don’t have a say in the matter, do I? You’re just going to do it?”
Grinning, I nodded and stood up. She texted the address to my phone.
Of course it was the frat house for jocks. Not that Sawyer would ever hang out with a mere mortal, someone who didn’t look like he could crush me with one hand.
It was obvious from a distance that preparations were under way for a party. A couple of guys were hoisting beer kegs down from the back of a truck, while their friends were coming out the front door to form the next part of the chain to move the kegs inside.
I was sure I’d been here before, a couple of months ago. Allie and I had let a couple of guys talk us into going to their party. It was a frat house, that much I remembered. In any case, the beautiful, old facade of the building seemed familiar.
I squared my shoulders and headed past the beer keg guys, climbing the stairs to the front door. Trying to exude confidence, I tried to ignore the gawkers, hoping none of them would ask me what I was doing there. These frat guys were known for trying to pick up any girls they could. Tonight it was my turn. Undercover, don’t get me wrong.
Sawyer’s instructions told me to go to the second floor, third room to the left.
Easy as pie.
Once upstairs, I strode down the corridor until I’d reached the door that I hoped would lead me to the necklace. Goosebumps prickled my arms; adrenaline surged through me, and every fiber of my being knew I was about to do something forbidden.
This would work well in my next story.
I felt like an undercover agent, mysterious… but unfortunately not invisible.
“Hey,” a deep voice resounded in the hallway.
Shit.
I stood stock still, and felt my cheeks burning. If only I wouldn’t blush. Putting on my most casual expression, I turned around and ran my fingers through my hair in what I hoped was a flirtatious gesture.
“Hi,” I responded.
