Uninvited (Uninvited, #1)(23)

Gil rolls his eyes and then looks at me, his light brown eyes deep with worry. “You okay?” Again, I’m struck with the fact that this boy is supposed to be dangerous. A killer?

I nod, letting the door clang shut behind me.

His gaze moves beyond me. “Where’s Sean?”

I motion vaguely behind me, uncomfortable elaborating on the fact that he followed Brockman and me into the bathroom.

I sink down in my chair and slide my hands beneath my thighs. Sitting on my hands, I fight the urge to look over my shoulder. I remind myself this day will be over soon, and then I’ll be with Zac tonight, living the life that really belongs to me. Not this.

Coco suddenly drops down in front of me. “What happened?”

I blink.

She cocks her head to the side, her gaze sharp. “With you and Brockman?”

“I—nothing.”

Her dark eyes narrow. “He mess with you?”

I shake my head, not wanting to talk about this. Especially with her. The last thing I want is to get warned off Brockman again.

The door clangs shut and I can’t help myself. I look over my shoulder just as Sean lowers into his desk. His gaze holds mine and the air suddenly becomes too thick. Or my lungs too small. Either way, I can’t breathe.

Brockman’s back, too. He sits at his desk and flips open a magazine, not glancing at us. I study him carefully, looking for any evidence that he and Sean had an altercation, but he looks totally normal.

“Sean’s a good guy.”

I turn around and look at Coco with surprise. She uttered the words so softly I wonder if I heard her right. I study the way her dark eyes settle almost wistfully on Sean.

“A good guy?” I echo, trying to wrap my head around this. It’s not something I had even considered before. Not something I let myself consider. Although if me being here was a mistake . . . then maybe it was a mistake for others, too. Okay, not Nathan, but I had already decided Gil couldn’t possibly be a bad sort.

Coco’s gaze snaps back to me. “When I first got sent here, he tried to help keep Brockman away.” She shrugged as if it were nothing. Just a dim memory.

I shake my head. “Why didn’t you let him?”

She snorts. “He might be tough, but he doesn’t have any real power. He might be able to handle Nathan and Brian, but in the end, who’s gonna help me in this school? The teacher? Or another carrier?”

I just stare at her.

“I do what I have to.” She looks me over. “And you will, too. Eventually.” Her gaze flicks to the boy sitting two desks behind me. I don’t need to follow her gaze to know she’s looking at him again. “There won’t always be a Sean around.”

She gets up then and moves to her desk. I watch as she opens her backpack and starts rifling through it, hunting for something. I study the slim line of her bent neck, the curly hair pulled up in a messy knot on her head, wondering what about this girl is so dangerous . . . so deadly. What lurks inside her?

What has she ever done, or Gil—or me, for that matter—to deserve ending up down here?


What did Sean O’Rourke do?


I gnaw on the edge of my thumb through the remainder of the day, eyeing the clock, willing the hour hand to move. It’s starting to get to me. The chain link, the space that feels like it’s shrinking, closing in. The long stretch of mostly soundless hours. I can’t wait for tonight when I can pretend none of this exists.

Every time I glance behind me to check the time, my gaze collides with Sean’s. Those pale eyes bore into me. When I look, it’s like he’s waiting for me . . . like he knows I’m going to turn around.

When we’re finally dismissed, I’m the first out of my seat. I’m careful to leave nothing behind. Not my satchel or purse. I sling both over my shoulder and bang out of the Cage. My feet race without quite running down the narrow hall. I don’t cross paths with anyone, and I reach the parking lot without incident. All of this makes me feel like I made it. Like I escaped.

Sliding behind the wheel, I drag a deep breath of stale, warm air inside my lungs. It’s not home, but close enough. It’s my car, my space, my sanctuary. Air releases in a loud shudder from my lips. I wrap both hands around the steering wheel like I need something to hang on to.

Suddenly, someone raps the glass next to me. Not very loudly, but a bomb might as well have dropped outside my car. I jump. A yelp escapes me, and both my hands fly over my mouth.

Gil stands there, hands buried in his pants. I haven’t started the car yet, but I need to in order to roll down the window. He waits, watching me patiently through the glass as I fumble with the keys and start the engine. I hit the button for the window. It slides down with a purr.

“Nice car,” he murmurs, his gaze sliding over the plush interior.

“Thanks.”

Silence hangs between us for a moment. It’s strange seeing him outside the Cage. His hair seems darker against the bright light of day. His eyes glint behind the frames of his glasses. They’re not just brown but amber.

“You okay?” he finally asks. “You flew out of there so fast.”

“I’m fine. Just can’t stand being in there a moment longer than I need to be.”

He nods but looks unconvinced.

My gaze drifts. Across the parking lot, Sean moves toward his truck, his strides unhurried. He doesn’t glance at us. Simply stares straight ahead as if nothing in the world can touch him.