Blacklisted by Gena Showalter Read Free Book Online

better, I’d think you were sent by A.I.R.”
    Disbelieving, I twisted to look at him. He kept his eyes straight ahead. In profile, his nose was slightly longer than I’d realized, and his chin jutted out stubbornly. “Are you kidding me?”
    â€œNo. You show up on a night when big things are supposed to go down. You show up on the very night A.I.R. lets me know they’re watching me. And finally, you eavesdrop and follow me.”
    My cheeks heated. Put that way, I did look guilty. Again. Apparently I’d done nothing right at the club. “And just how do you know better?” I couldn’t help but ask.
    There was a pause, a relaxing of his shoulders. “You don’t strike me as their usual type, that’s all.”
    â€œWhich is?”
    â€œStrong. Bloodthirsty. Brave.”
    Okay, his words really cut. Yes, I was a coward. Yes, I tended to duck rather than storm into the midst of a fight. I hated that about myself. More than that, I hated that he viewed me the same way.
    â€œYou’re right. I’m not A.I.R.” I pushed out a sigh. “Shanel and I—” God, was I really going to tell him? Was I really going to admit how stupid I was? Why not , I thought then. His opinion didn’t matter to me anymore. Not even a little. Really. “We came to the club to see you and Silver. We just wanted the two of you to finally notice us, that’s all.”
    Erik didn’t reply—he was good at that—and my stomach tightened. What was he thinking?
    I watched as the fine lines around his mouth deepened. There was a dusting of a beard on his jaw. Several boys at school had shadow beards, but now, on Erik, it made him seem infinitely older. “How old are you?” I asked.
    â€œToo old for you,” he muttered.
    Ouch. “And how old is that?”
    Another pause. Then, “Twenty,” he admitted reluctantly.
    Not so much older than me, really, but I didn’t point that out. That would reek of desperation, and he already thought poorly of me—not that I cared, I reminded myself. Besides, I thought poorly of him, too!
    â€œTwenty is a little old to still be in school,” I remarked. “Did you flunk a few grades?”
    He snorted. “Hardly.”
    â€œThen why—” The words ground to a halt. “Never mind.” Duh. He was still in school because there was no better place to sell his drugs.
    The car finally eased to a stop in front of a small, dilapidated house. The windows were sealed shut and the gray rocks were chipped and unpainted. The lawn was dry and yellowed, brittle looking.
    â€œWelcome to my home,” Erik said without any hint of pride. He exited the car.
    â€œOpen,” I commanded the door. It was a weak command and the monitors didn’t pick it up. I just, well, didn’t want to get out of the car. That house might collapse at any moment. But Erik was at my side in the next instant, opening the door manually and wrapping an arm around my waist. He eased me to my feet.
    Common sense demanded I not touch this boy who had disappointed me so sublimely, who had insulted me and considered himself better than me, despite his own stained past (and present). But I found my physical body didn’t agree with my mind, and before I knew it I was resting my head on his bare shoulder. His skin was warm, smooth. He smelled good, like heat and moonlight.
    Ugh. How stupid was I to still think of him that way? He’s bad, remember? Bad, bad, bad .
    â€œSo what were you doing at the club?” I asked. “Buying Onadyn to sell to the kids at school?” There. The reminder chased away my enjoyment of being in his arms.
    â€œSometimes your smart mouth is not appreciated.”
    Me? A smart mouth?
    He must have sensed my surprise, because he said, “Remember that little remark you made about me being a bad lover?”
    Oh yeah. I almost grinned. Go me!
    â€œNot funny,” he