Don't Look Back(55)

I couldn’t catch my breath.

Veronica’s smile grew. “Okay. You don’t want to talk about that. Understandable. But you know what I heard?”

“No,” I think I whispered.

“When you wrecked your brother’s car—Mike Billows said you kept talking about someone being in the car with you, but there wasn’t anyone there.” Her voice rose. “He said you were crazy—‘Insanity Sam,’ I think he said.”

Crazy. Insanity Sam. The words bounced around in my skull. For a moment, the faces around me blurred out of focus. I was crazy. No one had been in the car. And how did she know? I looked at Del, but he was still staring at the floor. A second later, I remembered who Mike Billows was: a kid in my bio class who volunteered with the fire department.

“Seeing things?” Candy said, feigning sympathy. “That must really suck.”

Trey smacked her hip. “Be nice.”

She giggled.

“Or maybe,” Veronica continued, “you’ve always been crazy, and we just didn’t know it.” I wanted to throw myself at her, but I couldn’t move. “You sure you don’t remember the last time you saw Cassie...alive?”

I sucked in a sharp breath. Some of the faces lost their smiles. They were glancing at one another, no longer sure if watching my fall from grace was funny and entertaining.

A tall blonde pushed through the crowd, knocking kids out of the way. Julie took one look at Veronica and sneered. “Are you drunk or just a dumb bitch?”

“Excuse me?” Veronica shot back, lip curling. “You can’t possibly be talking to me.”

Julie got right up in her face. “You’re right, there are a few dumb bitches here. But I’m talking to you. So what’s your problem?”

Music suddenly blasted the air, drowning out whatever the two girls were saying, but it looked heated. I owed Julie—owed her big time. But I had to get out of here. The dark brown walls of the barn were spinning. Nausea rose sharply.

Del reached for me. “Sammy—”

I pushed away from him, plowing through the closest group now fixated on the girl fight about to go down.

“Hey!” snapped a girl. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry,” I murmured, keeping my eyes on the floor.

Another body blocked me. I stepped to the side. Too hot—I was too hot. Bodies were everywhere, pressing into me, suffocating me. Too much perfume—too many sounds. My heart slammed off my ribs, my lungs squeezed. I needed to get outside, get fresh air. The pressure increased and settled on my chest, cutting off the oxygen. Thoughts swam, the walls tilted.

Did you kill her? a voice whispered.

I whirled around. “Who... who said that?”

The boy closest to me arched his brows, muttering something under his breath, and turned around.

Did you kill Cassie? the voice said from behind me.

Spinning around, I tried to breathe. Faces blurred. My vision darkened at the corners. Tremors ran up my legs. I was going to pass out here, in front of everyone. How lame...

A strong hand found mine in the mess of people and squeezed gently. That scent—his scent—surrounded me. I inhaled deeply, expanding my lungs. I lifted my head, and my eyes met startling blue eyes.

Carson looked grim. “You want to get out of here?”





Chapter sixteen





In Carson’s father’s old red pickup truck, which smelled faintly of cigars, I pressed back into the seat and continued breathing deeply, hands clasped against my stomach. My pulse had finally started to slow down. “If I had known what was going on, I would’ve come inside sooner,” Carson said quietly.

I swallowed. “It’s not your... your problem, and it’s okay.” “It shouldn’t be your problem, and it’s not okay.” He reached over, gently pulling my hands free. “Are you all right?” “I’m fine.” I let out a shaky breath. “I think I was having a

panic attack. I thought I heard...”

“Heard what?” His hand smoothed over mine, then folded

over it.

When he was touching me like that, I’d probably admit just

about anything. I turned my head toward him. A fine current of

electricity shimmed between us. “I thought someone asked me if I’d

killed Cassie, but I was ... hearing things.” Forcing a weak laugh, I looked out the window. Kids streamed out the barn doors. Del

was among them. “Or maybe some of them do think I killed her.” “They don’t think that.”

I shot him a dull look. “It’s not like I’m a fan favorite here—

then or now.”

His lips twitched. “Well, if they do think it, then they’re

idiots.” He let go of my hand and started the truck. It rumbled

to life. “So, want me to take you home? Or do you want me to

go get Scott for you?”

“Actually, do you have plans? I was wondering if you’d like

to do something with me today.”

He arched a brow. “The answer is yes and always, probably

for a very long time, too.” His gaze dropped to my lips. “But

unless you’ve kicked Del the Dick to the curb, I’m going to have