When I struggle to ease out of his grip, he frowns. “Five minutes.”
“What?”
“Close your eyes. Don’t think about anything. You’re safe here. Nothing will touch you. No one will hurt you. You don’t have any responsibilities to anyone. Not for the next five minutes.”
The tears crop in my eyes again. What kind of crazy utopia is that? No responsibilities? No pressure? No fear?
Dutch moves his hand over my face. With his thumb and pointer finger, he gently closes my eyelids.
“Five minutes, Cadey.” His soft voice flutters my hair. I feel him place a kiss to my temple. His lips nuzzle my ear next. “Starting now.”
CHAPTERSEVENTEEN
CADENCE
“Is our practice room a hotel now?”
“Shut up, Zane.”
“I’m just saying. Who’s the one who said we don’t bring girls in here?”
“She’s not just a girl to him. Obviously.”
“Finn has a point.”
“Keep your voices down. If you wake her, I’ll rearrange your teeth.”
Groggily, I open my eyes. At first, there’s a blast of sunlight. And then three faces too beautiful for this earth crowd over me.
For a second, I wonder if I’m looking at angels.
But that’s not right.
Angels wouldn’t have tattoos. Or muscles. Or flickers of darkness shadowing their eyes.
I blink and Redwood Prep jackets come into focus.
Blink again.
Spy the guitars, drums and sound-dampening wall panels.
I stiffen.
I’m in The Kings’ practice room.
I’mwithThe Kings.
I was sleeping, limp and defenseless, while four giant boys—three of whom did their part in torturing me for weeks—had full access to me. Self-preservation kicks in and I whip to a sitting position, my eyes dropping to my clothes.
I’m still wearing my blue shirt with the bow at the neck. My skirt is still on. So are my panties.
Despite knowing I’m fully dressed, my heart races.
It’s not like any of these boys are saints.
Not even Dutch.
Especially Dutch.
