Dare You To (Pushing the Limits, #2)(77)

“So only blondes are beautiful?”

Scott closes his eyes. “I never said that.”

“Then buy me the dye.”

He reopens them and studies me during one of his patented      long silences. “I’ll buy you something that will match your original hair      color.”

“I don’t want to be blond.”

“Give me a good reason why not.”

“I prefer black.”

“Not good enough.”

I purposefully gawk at Allison. “I hate blondes.”

“Still not good enough.”

I cross my arms over my chest and redirect my gaze to him. I      can also do long silences.

“That’s it, Elisabeth? You want to have black hair. Just      because. You have no reason. You want what you want.”

“Yeah.” I don’t like his tone or the way his blue eyes look      right through me.

“When did you first dye it?” he asks.

“Eighth grade.” My instincts yell at me to run.

“Why?”

My throat becomes tight and I glance away. “Because.”

“Because why, Elisabeth?”

Because one of Mom’s boyfriends thought I was her in the      middle of the night.

“Tell me.” Scott keeps staring right through me. “Tell me      why you dyed your hair.”

Isaiah knows. I told him once when I was too high to keep      secrets. Mom’s boyfriend stumbled out of our only bedroom in the middle of the      night. He sat on the floor next to where I slept on the couch. He lifted my      hand, kissed it, and called me my mother’s name. He smacked me when I screamed      and he smacked me again when he realized I wasn’t my mother.

The memories rush forward and I can’t shove them away. They      need to go away. I need someone to ground me. I need someone to erase the bad      memories. I haven’t forgiven Isaiah yet for betraying me. I haven’t talked to      him in weeks and I’m not sure I’m ready to.

Even if there wasn’t our recent past between us, I’m not      sure that I’d want Isaiah. For some reason, I crave someone else...and that      scares me, and being scared only gives power to the memories.

In my head, I can hear the bastard’s voice. I can feel the      bastard’s touch. My fingers claw at my head. Get out, get out, get out! I stand so abruptly the      stool wobbles, then crashes to the floor. “Fuck you, Scott. I’ll buy the dye      myself.”





Chapter 41

Ryan

...and George looked at the girl with new       eyes. No—not with new eyes, but maybe with eyes he had possessed in another       life. With eyes that belonged not to his head, but to his heart.

Her smile caressed him as if her fingers       had slid up his arm. She constantly amazed him—a human willingly befriending       a zombie. The opposite of him somehow gave this horrifying new life meaning.       But what really amazed George was that she granted him the grace of a second       chance.





PLEASED WITH MYSELF, I lean      back in the chair and fold my hands over my stomach. Turns out George’s life was      more confusing than he could have imagined. First he wakes up a zombie. Then he      discovers that the other zombies expect him to be a leader, and then he shocks      himself by loving his newfound power.

And then comes the girl.

Girls always complicate things. My lips turn up as I think of      Beth. Yeah, they do, but in a good way.

My phone vibrates and I glance at the caller ID. It’s an      unknown number so I let it go to voice mail. Seconds later the phone chimes,      telling me I have a text. I grab the phone and smile: Friends, right?—Beth

Me: Yes

“Then let me in.” Beth’s sexy voice drifts from the other side      of my open window.

I check the clock—eleven. Mom and Dad would be in bed. To be      safe, I lock the door to my bedroom before I raise the pane and pop the screen      out. “What are you doing here?”

Beth swings one leg into my room, followed by the other, with      such ease that I believe she’s done this before. “I got bored.”

“You could have called.” Popping the screen in isn’t nearly as      easy as popping it out.

“I did.” Beth assesses my room. She picks up a baseball on my      dresser, tosses it into the air, and barely makes the catch. “You didn’t      answer.”