“Amazing,” I say, for want of a better response.
“Oh, er… let me see if she’s inside,” Laura says at last.
“Thank you.” The smile is hurting my cheeks as I stand back, letting her through to the lounge door. She hits the code and enters. Annoyingly she covered her hand when she punched the numbers. I only managed to see three of the four digits. I’ll just have to guess the last one.
I don’t bother to wait around for Miss Douglas. I have what I came for. Walking out quickly, I head for the parking lot. Lorcan is waiting at the far end for me with his Bugatti. He refuses to park closer incase some dickhead scratches it. It’s a million pound car. Why the hell drive it to school in the first place?
“You know, driving this car to school is a fucking waste,” I say as I climb into the snug bucket seat and strap in.
Lorcan flits his gaze over me, chartreuse green eyes closed off. “You can always fucking walk,” he snipes.
Okay. He’s annoyed. Fuck him then.
I breathe out and close my eyes, letting the sensation of ripping out of the school car park in a supercar sooth my ragged edges. When I open my eyes, students are scattering left and right, most of them eyeing us with pure envy. I can only reason that Lorcan drives his pride and joy to school so he can stand out, and confirm what everyone suspects—he has more money than sense.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I say, after we drive three quarters of the way home in tense silence. If I don’t ask him, he’ll be a little bitch all evening, and maybe tomorrow night at the party. I don’t need him riling me up when I’m supposed to be working a mark.
“You said you’re not fucking him, and I believe you. But every time I see you with him, it makes my blood fucking boil.”
When he says it like that, I’m able to follow his reasoning. I think back to Opal. Seeing that bitch all over what’s mine makes me want to rip her throat out. Maybe it’s the same for Lorcan.
“Then don’t watch,” I say. It’s good advice. It’s how I deal with not actually ripping people’s throats out when I see something I don’t like.
He shoots me a look. “You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
“Don’t you?”
He snorts. “I guess I do.” He pauses and then adds. “So what do you want to do about him?”
Him?
“You mean Dante?”
“Yes, the psycho stalking us. We’re going to bury this one too, right?”
He’s actually stalking me, but I don’t bother to correct him. “He’s my problem to handle,” I say.
“Our problem,” Lorcan says, correcting me.
I glance at Lorcan. “I have a way to get rid of him, but you’re going to have to trust me. Do you trust me?”
I do need to kill soon. The buzz is back under my skin. It’s loud and irritating. Lorcan being a dick is making it worse. Killing Dante isn’t an option though, so I’m going to have to move in on my next prey, the drama teacher, soon. And hope Dante doesn’t fuck every thing up.
Lorcan’s gaze flickers my way, forest green eyes seemingly bored and unaffected. But I know better. “I trust you,” he says eventually. “Just.” But there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.
The sliver of a scar on his neck is visible through his open shirt collar. Every time I see it I get a tingle inside. Not a warm fuzzy one. A dark, sultry caress of desire that rekindles the lust within me and staves away the raging need to kill. It brings me back to that night when Lorcan was tied up in a pretty bow all for me. And I decided there and then to keep him.
I reach up and trace my finger over his scar.
In response, he places a firm hand on my thigh. I let him keep it there, relaxing into the rest of the drive home. Jude is visiting his parents, and Dino is with his brother.
The house is empty.
After the day I’ve had, I’m soaking wet just thinking about it.