doorsafter me. I waited. âHey,â he said when he reached me. âDid you drive here?â
âYeah, why?â
âLet me walk you to your car.â He gestured toward where weâd just come from. âThis has got me a little on guard, you know?â
He wasnât the only one. In general, I wasnât easily shaken, but I would admit that seeing Peytonâs injuries had me eyeing the parking lot a little closer than I normally would. I felt like eight-year-old Nikki againâafraid that the bad guys whoâd killed my mom might jump out at me and take me out, too. Not that I had any reason to trust Dru Hollis, but another warm body was better than nothing.
âConsider it a thank-you,â he said. âFor coming.â
âSure,â I said. âOf course.â
We walked to my car, awkward silence stretching between us. Away from the heavy hospital smell, I was able to catch his scent. The night air commingled with his cologne and drifted through me, practically carried me. He smelled rich, rugged, sexy, and like he didnât know it, which only made him even sexier. I was conscious of everythingâthe way I walked, the wrinkles in my shirt, the catches in my hair from being windblown on the window ledge earlier. I wondered if I smelled like smoke.
Once we got to my car, I finally spoke. âThis . . . didnât happen at your house, did it?â
Hollis Mansion was huge, and the setting of a museum of epic parties. If someone came to school laughing about having lost anything from shoes to car keys to their virginity, chances were high that it happened during a party at Peytonâs. The mansion was like Pleasure Islandâthe place where fun happens and nobody has to answer to anything. It was weird to think of the boy standing beside me being part of that scene. Even despite the rumors about him. It was even weirder to think an intruder might have gotten in there and tried to kill one of them.
âNo,â he said. âThe nurse told me someone found her in a parking lot, called it in, and split.â He wrung his hands together. âI donât know who it was. Iâm just glad she got some help.â
We fell into silence again, and I wasnât sure if I was supposed to get into my car now, or if he had more to say.
âWhat happened?â I asked, to break the tension. I pointed at his hand.
He glanced at it, splaying his fingers out, and then covered it with his other hand and let them both drop in front of him. âBasketball game,â he said. âGot a little rough. Also took an elbow.â He rubbed his cheek, right below his eye, and I noticed for the first time that it was bruised and swollen as well.
âDamn, tough game.â
He stared back toward the hospital. âBetter than beingon one of my fatherâs job interviews, which was where I was supposed to be,â he said.
âJob interview?â
âNothing,â he said. âMy parents think I need some direction .â He said the last with a heavy tinge of sarcasm.
âSo you burn off energy by beating up basketballs?â
He turned to me, and I got the patented Dru Hollis guarded stare full-on for the first time.
My cheeks burned. âSorry. Itâs been a weird night.â
âYeah,â he said. âIt has. I donât understand it. Why would someone want to hurt Peyton?â
âI have no idea,â I said. âAnd they said I was the only contact in her phone. Why? Why not you? Or your parents?â
âI donât know,â he said, looking surprised. âMy dadâs going to be shattered. Theyâre really close. I couldnât get ahold of him. He has no clue. None of this makes any sense.â
âMaybe it was an accident?â I said hopefully.
âMaybe,â he echoed, but he sounded doubtful. âListen, I really appreciate you coming.â He reached around me for the door handle.
Gary Pullin Liisa Ladouceur
The Broken Wheel (v3.1)[htm]