The Bad Boy Bargain (Suttonville Sentinels #1)(14)

Twenty of the other messages, mostly texts, were from girls asking if it was true, letting her know they’d seen Cameron with Holly, or expressing sympathy—some of it fake, some of it real. It was enough to make her want to hurl her phone across the room.

Instead, she called Violet.

“Hey,” Vi said. “You okay?”

“No.” Faith gulped down air to keep from crying. “That utter, complete douche nozzle.”

“Girl, don’t put down douche nozzles like that. Call him what he is—a rancid piece of shit.”

Faith managed a laugh. “I love you.”

“I know.” Violet sighed. “Any thoughts on how you’re going to play this?”

“No, not thoughts. Action,” she said, determination welling up in her chest. “I worked out a deal with Kyle Sawyer today.”

“Kyle Sawyer, the man-whore bad boy? Skateboarder, street racer, troublemaker…that Kyle Sawyer?” Violet sounded utterly shocked. “Where in the world did you find him?”

“My backyard.” Faith told her all about her encounter. “Vi, he’s hotter than the sun and has a rep darker than the devil’s. This is going to drive Cameron in-freaking-sane.”

“No doubt, but…are you sure?”

“Yes, absolutely. He was nicer than I expected, and has his own problem with Cameron. It’s the perfect arrangement.”

Violet burst out laughing. “Hell, yes, it is! Okay, here’s what we need to do—because a story isn’t going to cut it. You need to talk him into taking you to Dolly’s one night this week. The two of you, sitting on the hood of that badass Charger, sharing a shake and whispering in each other’s ears? That will light up the rumor mill like nothing else in the world.”

Faith picked at her fingernails. This wasn’t a mistake, was it? “I’m not sure a drive-in is a place he’d consider going. Too…high school.”

“Maybe, but everyone’s going to be hanging out there for ice cream this week. Tell him it’s a good place to start a rumor and I bet he says yes.”

She was right about that. Dolly’s was the hangout when there wasn’t a party going on. Kyle might think it was lame, but Violet had a point. “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

“Ooh, can I come over? I want to inspect the merchandise.”

Faith laughed. “Why not? He already knows I’m spying on him.”

“I want to meet him, make sure he’s not a freak,” Violet said. “Getting a gander would be a plus, though.”

Doubt sank into her bones and she flopped back on her bed, arm flung over her eyes. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

“What was that text from Michael?” Violet’s voice was hard.

Frustration filled Faith’s chest again, a hard, burning kernel. She needed to grab her courage with both hands and see this through. “Good point. Okay, rabid affair with a bad boy it is. See you tomorrow?”

“Yep, I’ll be there around noon.”

“Better make it one—I have church.”

“Oh, of course. Your parents would never let you forget that.”

Faith stared up at her ceiling, wondering if God was watching. “It’s not too bad. I kind of like going.”

“Better you than me,” Violet said. “I’d go up like dry kindling if I crossed the threshold.”

“That’s because your life is more interesting than mine.”

“Heh, not for much longer.”

Laughing, they ended the call and Faith turned on the “do not disturb” feature on her phone to stop the notifications for the night. She wrapped a quilt around her shoulders and sat up to stare out the window. The little bit of light from the back porch glowed across the yard, highlighting the holes in the ground. Kyle had thoroughly destroyed the backyard. Would he destroy her reputation that thoroughly, too? And if he did, was it going to make things better or worse?

Faith rolled her ankles, stretching out the tendons and muscles. She’d looked forward to graduation and NYU for so long, but had wanted to enjoy senior year. Now, though, she’d give anything for it to be over, and that sucked.

She sat up straighter, glaring at her reflection in the window, strands from her bun falling in wisps around her face. Maybe working with Kyle was a mistake, but no matter what happened, she was going to make Cameron wish he’d never opened his mouth.



Sunlight streamed through her window, and Faith groaned. She’d been having a weird dream about a giant pair of tap shoes chasing her around the studio, but it hadn’t been bad enough to wake her up. What time was it? She dug her phone out from under her pillow. Eight thirty? They didn’t have to leave for church for two hours. Why the heck was she awake?

A motor rumbled to life outside. Groggy, Faith stumbled over her dance bag on the way to the window. Kyle, holding what looked like a chain saw and wearing safety glasses, was attacking the pile of branches in the corner of her backyard. Mesmerized, she watched him wield the saw, his forearms taut and straining.

“Faith?” Mom called from downstairs. “You awake? Dad wants to leave early and grab doughnuts on the way to church.”

Um, yeah. Church—not drooling over boys with chain saws. “Okay!”