Credence
Page 170
Tingles spread up my spine. It smells like the room.
I bet it’s nice in here when the fire is lit. Quiet, peaceful… warm. I look down at the bed, my mouth going dry.
I whip the sheet and blanket back, running my hands over his bed and searching for my panties. I’m guessing this is where he’d be when he jerked off with them.
Finding nothing, I dive down to my hands and knees, crawling around the bed to check the floor.
But as I reach the foot of the bed, I see something and stop. Three grooves are dug into the wood, and I reach out my hand, immediately fitting my forefinger, middle finger, and ring finger into the scratches.
Something scratched the floor. Or someone.
I lick my parched lips, the reality of the distance between the police and me finally dawning. It should’ve dawned months ago.
Rising to my feet, I search his drawers, his other bedside table, and any other little nooks and crannies I can find, but nothing. This is fucking ridiculous. Jake isn’t the panty-raiding type, and Noah wouldn’t steal nearly every pair of sexy underwear I owned, because he’d want to see me wearing them! I know it’s Kaleb.
I grab his pillow and dig inside, searching the last place I know of, and then take the other one, sticking my hand inside there, too.
I feel something and stop, rubbing it between my fingers. Cloth, silky… I pull it out and look down at the red ribbon in my hand.
The red hair ribbon.
My red hair ribbon.
Heat courses under my skin as heat pools in my belly.
The corner of my mouth turns up in a sly smile. Well, it’s not my panties, but it’s mine. Tossing his pillow back down, I tie the ribbon into my hair into a sweet, little bow.
It’s not much, but piece by piece, Kaleb is coming into view.
He might hate me.
But he thinks about me.
“It’s so quiet.”
Noah sits to my right, in his father’s seat, and I glance up, barely meeting his eyes before I look back down at my textbook. I take another bite of my biscuit, not replying.
Jake left hours ago. I wished he’d left earlier, because it’s started snowing again, and now it’s dark. I hate the thought of him out there alone. Why didn’t Kaleb go with him? Or all of us? I could’ve sucked it up. We don’t need fish that badly.
I turn the page, chewing my food as a shingle on the roof bangs in the wind and the ice maker drops new cubes in the freezer. The ribbon tickles my temple, and I fight not to smile as I feel Kaleb’s eyes boring into me from across the table.
“I never really realized my father was the life of the party at dinner,” Noah adds, trying to get us to talk.
But I’m enjoying Kaleb’s attention a little too much to make conversation right now.
Noah reaches over and touches my ribbon. “This is cute.”
I give him a smile but then flash my gaze to Kaleb, seeing his jaw flex.
“So you want to watch a movie tonight?” Noah asks.
“A movie?”
“There’s a sequel where the same cops pick her up for smoking weed and take her back to the station house,” he tells me, wagging his eyebrows. “All night long. Lots of prisoners.”
I chuckle. “Sounds hot.” I close my text and drop the rest of my biscuit to my plate, brushing off my hands. “But I have about fifteen critical responses to finish.”
I rise, picking up my plate and glass.