Текст книги "A Mad Zombie Party"

Автор книги: Gena Showalter

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His head tilts to the side before flopping onto a fresh mound of dirt. Frosty arrives on the scene, his entire arm already engulfed in flames. I blink, and his face, neck and chest are consumed, too. I gape at him. I think he gapes at himself. It’s hard to see his expression underneath all that fire.

“This is your fault,” he says as he turns to point an accusing finger at Cole, who spreads his arms, all I love you, so get used to it.

Oh, to be loved that way.

Frosty touches the zombie, just touches him—a brush of his fingertips against the creature’s head and body—and the pieces burst into black ash. The flames on Frosty’s arms die. He stares at the limbs as if he’s never seen them before.

“Thank you,” I say, only to remember he doesn’t want my thanks. But this time, he doesn’t reply. I guess he’s ignoring me again.

I push to shaky legs. Frosty’s shirt is unmarred by the flames but ripped at the collar, gaping all the way to his navel. You’d think I’d never seen a tanned, toned, tattooed guy before, because I suddenly can’t tear my gaze away, too star-struck by the beauty of him. An angel. A fallen angel. He’s my tormentor and my salvation—and what the hell is wrong with me? Did I hit my head when I fell?

“I could have saved that zombie.” Ali marches over to frown at me, as if I’m the problem. I hate how tall she is, and how tiny she makes me feel. “I could have turned him into a witness.”

“Could you really?” Gavin mentioned seeing toxin underneath Jaclyn’s skin, and I can see it underneath Ali’s, black lines branching from her eyes and mouth. “You were almost completely tapped before you started fighting. Now you’re telling me you’re good as gold?”

Up goes Ali’s chin—a defensive action I know well. “I’m not the problem here. You were supposed to stay by Frosty’s side, not run off to—”

“I told you. I saw someone. A girl. She watched the battle and bolted when I noticed her. I chased her. She shot me up with darts. We need to catch her and question her.”

“If there is a girl out there, and I’m not saying there is—we both know you could have brought those darts with you, intending to feed us this story—she probably doesn’t know she’s a slayer and that there’s a war waging all around her.”

I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste the copper tinge of blood. “She was in spirit form. She knows what she is.” Slayers can separate spirit from body naturally, but it’s something we have to learn. Anima long ago found a way to force the action through electronic pulses.

Ali gives me a once-over. “You don’t look like you’ve been tranqed.”

“That I can’t explain. Unless she shot me up with something else.” Like...what? The opposite of a tranq—happy juice? But I’m not exactly happy. Medication of some sort? Poison?

Oh, crap. Bile rises, burning again my sternum. The possibilities are endless, and very few are actually good for me.

“Take these,” I say, shoving the darts into her hand. “Have them tested. Tell me what she’s done to me.”

My panic must penetrate Ali’s suspicions, because she pales. “As soon as I get home, I’ll give them to Reeve and Weber, our new medical advisor.”

Cole massages the back of his neck. “It’s late. It’s dark. We’re all in bad shape. We’re in no condition to go after the girl. I’ll follow her tracks tomorrow.”

I grit my teeth, but also nod. He’s right. We’re all operating on fumes.

“One more thing. Don’t go running around just because you see someone,” Ali tells me. “Next time stick to Frosty’s side as if you’ve been glued.” Like Kat, she has trouble maintaining eye contact while discussing this particular subject. Why? “I want you with him every second of every day. Got it?”

“Am I allowed bathroom breaks?” I ask drily.

“No. Wear a diaper.”

I give her the finger. I’m not wearing a diaper. Ever.

Frosty closes in, the heat he radiates enveloping me, causing goose bumps to break out from head to toe. What the hell kind of reaction is this? I shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other, rubbing my arms to pretend I’m cold.

“Were you bitten?” he asks.

“Why, are you worried about me?” I hear the hope in my voice and cringe. I think a part of me longs to hear yes, someone—anyone—cares that I exist.

Fury claims his expression, twisting his features. “You are a means to an end. A way to see Kat. Never doubt it.”

Bile rises again, only hotter, but I manage a smile. “Don’t worry. I won’t.” Did I really expect him to soften so quickly—or ever?

This is my penance, my only means of atonement, and I’ll see it through to the end. No matter what.

“Let’s go.” His expression is softer, at least. But of course, he takes off without looking back to ensure I’ve followed.

I race after him.

“Don’t forget,” Ali calls. “Hash Town. Seven a.m. If you’re late, I’ll post naked pictures of you all over the internet. And I promise you I’m not bluffing. Kat told me where to find one of her old phones.”

He waves without looking back.

“You and Ali are having breakfast together?” I ask.

“Yes. You’re not invited.”

Ouch. “Try to leave me behind. See what happens.”

He has no reply, but then, he rarely does with me.

We reach our bodies and with a single touch, we’re paired back up. As he stops to answer a question from Bronx—what happened out there?—I pile inside his truck and buckle my belt.

Yesterday, Frosty demanded I walk to his apartment. Tonight, I’m not taking any chances. He’ll have to drag me out of the vehicle kicking and screaming—and then he’ll have to crawl back inside it, because I won’t leave him unscathed.

When he settles behind the wheel, he doesn’t even glance in my direction. And yet, it isn’t until he pulls out of the cemetery that I relax. Or try to. Every muscle I possess is knotted and trembling, the stress of not knowing what’s been done to me jacking me up.

“Great fight,” I say, hoping to make conversation and distract myself. “You worked magic out there.”

He turns up the radio.

I jab my finger at the button, switching the music off. “We’re partners, Frosty. You have to start—”

He speaks over me. “I don’t have to start anything. And we aren’t partners. You and I will never be partners.”

A painful burn returns to my chest. “Look. I’m sorry for my actions in the past. I am. You’ll never know how sorry. I hate what I did, I hate the outcome, but I was backed into a corner. Anima would have killed River, and he’s my only family. I wish I could go back and protect Kat with my own life, but I can’t. All I can do is protect yours now. But if I’m going to do so, you’ve got to start trusting me. At least a little. You can start by talking to me as if I’m a real person with feelings.” Because I am.

“That will happen in never. You aren’t a real person to me. You’re a murderer.” He sounds as cold and merciless as his navy eyes appear. “And just so you know, an apology means nothing without action to back it up.”

“I do know. I just need time to prove myself.”

“Time I’d rather not give you. I don’t need protecting.”

“Kat says otherwise. You heard her. Ali had a vision. At some point, I will save your life. Without me, you’ll die.”

He slams on the breaks as he pulls over to the side of the road. “Dying wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I’d be with Kat. So why don’t you do us both a favor and get out. Your services are no longer needed.”

“But—”

“Now.”

My lips compress into a thin line. My hand shakes as I open the door. I’m hurt by his refusal, yes, but as my feet hit the pavement, I’m also suddenly and inexplicably angry. “You would rather be shot in the chest than spend time with me?” I shout. “I’m that bad? I’m so despicable you feel it’s okay to abandon me on the side of a road, alone, in the middle of the night when light is scarce?”

I palm my daggers. Before Frosty can speed away, I stomp in front of the truck and, glaring at him through the front windshield, slam the tips of both weapons into a tire.

Maintaining a good mad is impossible right now. I’m just too freaking tired. Why did Camilla have to go and be all adorable and crap, throwing a bona fide slayer tantrum?

I stick my head out the window to yell at her, but all I end up saying is “Just...I don’t know...get in or something.”

A moment passes before she climbs back into the truck. She doesn’t meet my gaze. I get out and change the tire, then return to the wheel, gunning the engine.

“If we’re playing would you rather... I’d rather kiss a viper than continue our conversation,” I say. “So maybe let’s play the quiet game instead.”

No response. She doesn’t even stiffen.

This bothers me.

I’m the moron who keeps going. “Have you ever considered therapy? That temper of yours—”

“Doesn’t come out to play nearly as much as yours.”

Good point. “Difference is, rage is sexy on guys.”

As calm as can be, she says, “The guys you’re crushing on must not rage correctly. True rage? It’s a total loss of control, and it’s ugly. What I did to your tires? I meant to do.”

There’s a story there. One I’m strangely eager to hear. But I don’t ask.

Use her and lose her, don’t get to know her.

“Anything else you’d like to say before we get started on that quiet game?” I ask.

Silence.

Again it bothers me and I don’t know why.

Then she asks, “Did Cole really share his slayer abilities with dýnamis?”

“Dýnamis?”

“Slayer fire. The stuff that makes zombies go boom.”

I roll my eyes. “Yes. He shared the ability with me. Maybe shared a little extra, too.” I’m not actually sure what I’ll be able to do now. Not everyone gets everything. But there’s no question I can now summon slayer fire—dýnamis—to every part of my body, rather than to just my hands. Just like that. As easily as breathing. And Cole seemed pretty confident I’ll now be immune to zombie toxin, as if he controlled what he passed on. Maybe he did. It’s a skill Ali learned through her mother, Helen.

When Camilla and I get to my apartment, I lock myself in the bedroom. I don’t care what she does or where she sleeps. I just know I don’t want to see her or think about her right now.

I fall into bed, where I sleep like the truly dead, only rising with the sun. I shower, arm up and emerge to see her awake and perched on the couch, watching TV. We don’t say a word to each other.

I grab my keys and head to the truck. She follows me. Whatever. This is what Kat wants, so this is what Kat will get.

The silence continues the entire drive to Hash Town. The old-school building is made of redbrick and cracked mortar. Charming, in a way. Inside, the walls are painted pale blue and the floors are tiled in black and white.

Cole and Ali are situated at a table in back...with a brunette I don’t recognize. A new recruit?

Camilla and I slide into the only two chairs available, on opposite sides of the stranger.

“Raina, this is Frosty,” Ali says. She’s exchanged her black leather fighting clothes for a pink dress, and she looks beautiful. Reminds me a bit of Taylor Swift, to be honest. Tall and blonde and slender, with a delicacy Cole claims brings out his inner animal. “Frosty, this is Raina. And no shop talk, okay? This is purely social.”

I get the hint. The girl isn’t a recruit.

The brunette offers a shy smile and wave. She’s pretty in a “touch me and I’ll break” sort of way, but I like her eyes. They’re so dark they’re almost black.

“Wow,” she says to me. “I didn’t know there was anyone else in the world as large as Cole.”

I nod—what can I say, really?—and signal the waitress for coffee.

Ali slides a thick, rolled-up napkin in Camilla’s direction. “What you asked for. You’ll want a moment alone.”

Raina looks at the napkin, then at Ali, then at the napkin again. “Um, what’s going on?”

“I... She...” Ali looks to Cole for help, but in the end it’s Camilla who comes to the rescue.

“Tampons. A lady must be discreet.” Camilla winks, then stands and walks away.

“Excuse me.” Curiosity propels me to my feet, and I follow her—straight into the ladies’ bathroom.

“I should have known,” she says on a sigh.

“You’re not supposed to leave my side, remember?”

“Whatever.” She unrolls the napkin. A piece of paper and a syringe fall out.

I catch them before they hit the ground and hand them over. She pales as she reads the note, then curses under her breath.

I snatch the paper from her to read it for myself.

Reeve was able to extract liquid from the darts. You were shot up w/some kind of slow-acting zombie toxin. She’s never seen anything like it. While she studies the ins and outs, this concentrated antidote should help. It’s a gift from Helen. Well, the recipe is. Reeve mixed everything together. In a perfect world, it will completely negate what’s flowing through your veins. Also, Cole & I searched for tracks at the cemetery, but there were too many to pinpoint the girl. I’m sorry.

The news is bad, but it isn’t the worst.

“This is going to hurt.” I pull the top from the syringe and jab her in the arm.

She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even frown. I do the latter. I’ve had broken bones and torn muscles, but I still howl like a baby when I’m stabbed, no matter how tiny the blade.

I cap the needle, roll it with paper towels and toss the wad into the trash. “Tell me if you start to feel sick. Even the smallest twinge.” I’ll put her out of her misery. Because I’m sweet like that.

“Sir, yes, sir.” She gives me a jaunty salute.

We return to the table, where Ali is regaling Raina with a story about her grandmother. “—walked in when Cole and I were kissing. I just about had a heart attack. But Nana, she remains the picture of calm as she sits beside us on the couch and asks if we’re the evening’s entertainment or if we’d like to watch a movie with her.”

“I wish my grandmother was so cool.” Raina smiles and focuses on me. “Frosty. That’s an interesting nickname. Who gave it to you?”

“Cole.” Coffee is poured at last, and I drink it hot and black. The hotter and blacker the better. I’d drink motor oil if it wouldn’t kill me. Camilla, I notice, pours four sugars and half a carton of cream into hers.

Raina continues to look at me, as if expecting more of an answer. Finally, she says, “When did he give it to you?”

“Elementary school.”

Silence.

Ali kicks me under the table. I frown at her.

“There are a thousand rumors floating around about why.” Ali leans her head against Cole’s shoulder and pets his chest. “Most believe he got trapped outside after an ice storm and lost two of his toes to frostbite.”

“That’s my favorite.” Kat had somehow convinced herself it was true, and that I’d had the two toes surgically reattached, despite the impossibility of reviving dead flesh.

“Unfortunately,” I add, “the real story is far less exciting.”

“Well...?” Ali insists.

“I’d just moved to a new school for the third time that year, and on my first day, I knew I had to prove my prowess or I’d end up being every bully’s whipping boy. Again. I was small back then. I slinked through the halls, determined to take down the reigning badass, which just happened to be Cole. I provoked him into a fight, and he punched me. I fell, but quickly got back up. This happened again and again until finally he stopped and told me I must have ice in my veins, since I was practically begging for more hits rather than curling into a ball and crying.”

“First time anyone ever got up,” Cole says with a fond smile. “And he did it more than once...”

“Well, you hit like a baby.” I give him a smile of my own. “It was either stay down and laugh, or get up and let you try again.”

Cole snorts, and Ali laughs outright.

“Did you give him a nickname in return?” Raina asks me.

“Yes. Asshole.”

This time Ali snorts, and Cole laughs. Camilla nods with approval.

Raina leans closer to me, a slow grin spreading. “What nickname would you give me?”

Right now? Inquisitor. For some chick I just met, she sure asks a lot of questions. “I don’t know you well enough.”

“Well, hopefully we can change that.”

I shrug noncommittally and take another drink of coffee.

Cole clears his throat and I meet his gaze. His lips are twitching at the corners as he gives a sharp shake of his head.

“What?” I demand.

“He’s amused by the fact that you haven’t figured out this is a setup.” Camilla opens a packet of strawberry jelly and eats the inside. “A meet-and-greet. An arranged blind date.”

Shut the hell up. Raina is flirting with me?

“Ali.” I do my best to keep the anger out of my tone. “A word.”

“Oh. No, thanks. I’m good.” She looks everywhere but at me.

“Now.” I stand and “help” her to her feet, then drag her through the maze of tables and into the bathroom hallway. I whirl on her, saying, “What the hell, Ali?”

“Hey, don’t blame me.” She spreads her arms wide. “I’m simply obeying Kat’s orders.”

Kat told her to set me up with another girl? Damn it. I don’t... I can’t... The anger burns out of control, setting fire to my shock, and all I can do is choke on the fumes. I would never—never!—push Kat at another guy. I still love her. I still want her.

But she doesn’t want me.

Is she up there, watching me? Will it hurt her to see me flirt with another girl?

I guess we’ll find out.

“I’m sorry,” Ali says. “I know this isn’t—”

“Where’d you meet Raina?” I’m not interested in her pity. “What kind of girl am I dealing with?”

“Before I moved in with Nana and started going to Asher, I attended Carver Academy with her.” She nibbles on her bottom lip. “She’s a senior like you, a cheerleader with a sweet heart, and she knows nothing about Zs.”

Kat was a cheerleader in junior high, before kidney disease rendered her too weak. “Let’s get this over with.”

Ali grabs my arm as I walk away, stopping me. “One thing. Be nice to her, or I’ll be wearing your testicles as earrings tomorrow.”

“Set me up on another date,” I tell her, “and I’ll be using your lady balls as a coin purse.”

Snorting, she bumps my shoulder with her own. “You’d look good carrying a purse, but if you reach for my lady balls, Cole will cut off your hand.”

“I’m willing to risk it.”

“And it’ll be your loss.”

We head back to the table.

“—last boyfriend,” Raina is saying to Camilla.

Camilla opens her mouth to reply, sees me and stays quiet.

The waitress arrives, and we place our orders.

Raina offers me a nervous smile. “Alice—I mean Ali—tells me you’re a boxer like Cole.”

The truth and yet...not. “I taught him everything he knows. He still needs some work, and he’ll never be able to beat me, but I’ll never give up on him.”

Ali beams at me. Cole chokes on a drink of orange juice, and Camilla pours another packet of sugar into her cup.

“Would you like some coffee with your sugar?” I ask her.

“No, thanks. Did you see the sign? You have to pay for every refill,” she whispers as if it’s some terrible secret. “My first cup is my last.”

Because she can’t afford more? Something clenches in my chest. Before I can talk myself out of it, I lean over and give her half of my coffee. She blinks at me, baffled, and it irritates me, because I’m just as baffled.

“If you die of dehydration, you can’t be my bodyguard,” I growl.

“Bodyguard? Surely she’s not... Are you two...?” Raina waves a finger from me to Camilla, Camilla to me.

“No,” we answer quickly, both horrified by the prospect.

“Not even friends,” I add.

Raina frowns in confusion. “Then why—?”

“Tell me about you,” I interject in a rush.

She blushes, shifts nervously in her chair and stutters the word I as she tries to think of something to say. Wonderful. I’ve made her uncomfortable. I’m off my game. Clearly. I probably couldn’t charm a rabbit out of a hat.

“I’ll start,” Camilla says. Taking pity on the girl? “I’m nineteen, and like the boys I’m a boxer. I recently had a falling-out with my brother, my only family. I’m afraid of spiders and I adore cherry Life Savers.”

I can’t imagine her being afraid of anything. “Don’t forget your tire-slashing fetish.”

Ali narrows her eyes and points her fork at Camilla. “Did you slash his tires? Wait. Never mind. Don’t answer that. I’ll have to hurt you.”

Cole takes her fork and sets it on her plate. “No utensil fights. I’m still healing from the last one.”

“Fine.” She nudges him in the stomach, saying, “Your turn. Tell us all about you.”

“Are you sure you want that? We’re in a public place and you tend to rip off my clothes when I—”

“Oh, my gosh. Shut up.” Ali pinches his lips together.

Raina watches their interaction, transfixed.

Cole leans back, freeing his lips while draping his arm behind Ali’s chair. “I’m an adrenaline junkie and Ali-gator is my favorite high. I also like cherry Life Savers.”

“How am I keeping my hands to myself?” Ali says drily.

“I don’t know. Did I mention you taste better than those cherry Life Savers?”

Ali fans herself.

“Well.” Raina clears her throat. “I’m a big fan of the University of Alabama. Roll Tide! I’ll be starting in the fall. Though I haven’t decided on a major, I’m leaning toward nursing.”

I keep her talking the rest of the “date,” asking questions about her past, her likes and her dislikes. She tries to question me in return, but I shut her down every time. My business is my business, and I’ve only ever shared with the three people closest to me. Cole, Bronx and, once upon a time, Kat.

Kat, who can’t wait to get rid of me.

My coffee cup shatters, my grip suddenly too tight. Hot liquid spills over my hand and the floor as sharp porcelain cuts into my skin. The pain is nothing. I barely notice, but Raina gasps and almost faints at the sight of blood.

Camilla pats the girl on the shoulder. “Uh, don’t take this the wrong way but I don’t think nursing is the career for you.” She rushes off to gather a cool, wet cloth. “Before you ask,” she says to me, “it’s clean.”

I snatch the rag before she can attempt to wash the wounds. If I had two broken legs and couldn’t reach a bag of Oreos—probably a fate worse than death—I still wouldn’t allow her to help me. I don’t even want her acting as my shield, and if it wasn’t for Kat, I’d just take my chances.

Live right, or die trying.

* * *

“You’re an awesome slayer, but you’re a horrible date,” Camilla says as we climb into my truck.

Needless to say, I won’t be seeing Raina again. Nice girl, but totally not my type. “I’m sure you’ve been on worse.”

“Uh. Hmm.” Camilla says no more and stares out the window.

“Don’t tell me they’ve all been winners. I’ll know you’re lying.”

“I’m not telling you anything. I’m enjoying a little peace and quiet. Well, trying to.”

Something about her snotty tone... “You have been on a date, haven’t you? Answer, and you’ll get your peace and quiet.”

Her nails dig into her knees, her knuckles quickly turning white. “I’m not a virgin, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Do I detect...remorse? “You don’t have to go on a date to get screwed.” I know this firsthand, considering my behavior the past four months.

“Oh, just shut up,” she says.

A deflection, which is an answer all on its own. “You haven’t been on a date.” I’m completely floored. Like Raina, she’s not my type, but I have eyes and even I have to admit she’s an insanely beautiful specimen.

“Boys were too afraid of my brother to be seen with me in public,” she says, hurt practically dripping from her tone. “That’s what I told myself, at least. They never stuck around long enough to explain their reasons.”

So, the boys hung around her secretly, almost as if they were ashamed of her, and then took off after they’d gotten what they wanted.

Did my hit-and-runs hurt like this?

Damn. Guilt winds around me and squeezes the air from my lungs.

I’m curious about Camilla’s experiences, but I don’t like that I’m curious. I stop asking questions, and she offers no more details. The silence continues as I go about my day, running my errands.

First up—Shady Elms. I plan to do my own tracking. Unlike Cole and Ali, Camilla knows where Dart Girl started and ended. We track her to a corner street, where a car must have been waiting for her. There are no lamps nearby, no buildings, which means no security footage.

Camilla is ticked, which is why my next stop is the gun range. She can work off some steam.

Located in the middle of nowhere, the large metal building is painted camo-style to blend into the mountain behind it. As we sign in, the guy behind the counter stares at Camilla as if she’s wearing a sign that says, Eye-Rape Me. Please. I’m surprised she pretends not to notice rather than blinding his eyes with a one-two punch.

“Hey,” I snap, and he jolts. I don’t have to say a word. The displeasure I’m projecting speaks for me.

He ducks his head and starts to wipe the counter clean. “Uh...right. You two are in stalls thirteen and fourteen.”

We cover our ears and make our way to our assigned spots. There are six other guys here, and each does a double take when he catches a glimpse of Camilla. Again, she pretends not to notice. Or, hell, maybe she doesn’t notice. Kat would have—

I lock up the wayward thought, before it leads me to do something stupid.

Motions jerky, I load my .44 and aim. Boom. Boom, boom, boom. I keep my shots to the torso. After I unload two rounds, I compare my hits to Camilla’s. Well, well. She prefers to hit the head and groin. Should have known. Fighting dirty is her MO.

I’m impressed.

“Working through a few issues?” I ask her as we leave, our headphones off and gear stored in the truck.

“A few?” She laughs without humor. “You have no idea.”

No, I don’t, because I don’t know her.

And I don’t to want to know her.

We head to the post office, where I mail paperwork for one of my classes. Then, it’s to the gym for a very necessary workout. I begrudgingly obtain a guest pass for Camilla. Does she say thank-you? No. She doesn’t say anything at all, just skips off to use the elliptical, run the treadmill and even lift a few of the lighter weights. I pay no attention to her. Nope. Not even a little. I punish the boxing bag for everything I’ve been dealing with, every punch exorcising emotion. By the time I call it quits, my knuckles are black and blue.

After Camilla and I shower in our respective locker rooms, we practically have to crawl to the truck. But we aren’t done for the day.

Next stop—the grocery store.

“Pick whatever you want,” I grumble, grabbing a cart. A few moms are there with their kids, the little boys and girls staring at me with wide eyes, as if I’m a superhero—or a monster. I just wink.

As I mosey down the first aisle, Camilla remains a few paces behind me. I grab a box of cupcakes, Twinkies, cinnamon rolls and powdered donuts. Slayers work out hard, and eat harder. Except, she grabs nothing. “Don’t tell me your sweet tooth has been satisfied. The way you savaged those sugar packets, I’m pretty sure you’re an addict.”

A pink flush colors her cheeks. “I don’t have any money with me.”

“So? I’m paying.”

“No.” She gives a violent shake of her head. “You’re not paying for my food. I owe you, not the other way around.”

“If you owe me, you have to do what I say. And I say pick some food. Now. Hungry girls are bitchy girls.”

She glares at me. “Chauvinist boys are dogs.”

“Camilla—”

“Just drop it, Frosty. Okay?”

Anger sparks. “No, I won’t drop it. You’ll pick some food or you’ll move out. If you’re weak from hunger, you can’t protect yourself and you certainly can’t protect me.”

“This from the boy who stole my granola bar.”

I’m the one who flushes now. “Pick a fucking dessert.”

“Fine.” She throws in a bag of cherry-frosted brownies. “Happy now?”

Not really. But before I can respond, Kat appears before me, jumping up and down with excitement, even clapping her hands. “I tried waiting for you to return to the apartment, but I can’t stand it anymore. How was the date?”

Realization is a cold, hard bitchslap. She isn’t jealous. She isn’t even mildly upset.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll be...somewhere else,” Camilla says, and beats feet to get away from us.

I take out my phone and press it to my ear, pretending to talk to someone. “Didn’t you watch?” Calm. Steady.

“No. Witnesses aren’t allowed to watch romantic or intimate moments.”

“Nothing romantic or intimate happened.”

“Something must have, because the screen went blank after you teased Camilla about her sugar intake.”

Screen? And why the hell isn’t Kat railing at me? Or telling me she made a big mistake?

“What happened after that?” she asks, completely unaware of my increasing turmoil.

Nothing, that’s what. I’d wanted to regret the impulsive gesture but hadn’t quite managed it. “Let me get this straight. You expected me to take one look at Raina and turn my full attention to her. You expected me to fall out of love with you.” My voice hardens, every word like a dagger. “You don’t know me at all, do you?”

The color drains from her face, but she presses on. “You fell in love with me instantly, Frosty. Why can’t you fall out of love just as fast? Why can’t you fall for someone else the same way? Granted, I’m amazing, but—”

“No. You don’t get to praise yourself while you’re breaking my fucking heart.” Breaking...no. It’s already broken. I’m flayed. Shattered. Hell, I’m nothing but jagged pieces of pain.

Tears well in her eyes. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh and—”

Forget the groceries. “Camilla,” I shout, and it isn’t long before she appears at the end of the aisle.

I don’t spare Kat another glance as I leave her crying in the middle of the store. I stomp past Camilla, and as hoped, she follows.

In the truck, my darker emotions bubble over. I growl, “This is your fault. If she was still alive, she’d want me.”

Camilla scowls at me. “I’ll take the blame for a lot of things, but not that. Not another girl’s feelings for you.”

“If she was alive—”

“Yeah. You said that. But are you sure you’re right?”

We were never supposed to end up together, Kat said the second time she appeared to me.

I punch the steering wheel so hard the horn blasts as a piece of plastic goes flying. My already bruised skin tears and my knuckles crack, but I don’t care. I hit the wheel again and again and again.

“Look.” Camilla’s voice is unbearably gentle. “I know you’re heartbroken right now—”

“What would you know about heartbreak? You’ve never even been on a date. None of the guys you’ve been with liked you enough.”

She blanches, and I curse, hating myself more now than ever before. Guilt and regret pummel me, leaving bruises deep, deep inside. I don’t like her, but I’m not this guy. I won’t be this guy.