Page 31 of The Secret Girl (Adamson All-Boys Academy 1)
“Why don't you just beat me up instead?” I retort, standing up and moving away from him toward the car. I've somehow stained the crisp white shirt that goes with my uniform, and the Student Council looks for any excuse to tag me with detention. I've got another uniform, unopened and in the trunk.
Opening up the front door, I lean down and pull the lever to pop it. Church looks at me like I'm an archaeologist on a freaking dig, like he's never seen such an ancient piece of technology.
“Yeah, it's not a Beemer, I know, bummer.” I head over to the trunk, and then pause when I feel movement behind me. Spinning around, I find Church far too close to me. He isn't smiling anymore.
He shoves me into the trunk and steps forward, grabbing my chin with his fingers so hard that it hurts.
“I warned you to stop digging into Ranger's sister,” he says, voice cool and smooth and matter-of-fact. It seems so at odds with his gold-brown hair and honey colored irises. But his gaze … no, that darkness fits right in with his black, broken soul.
“Let go of me,” I snarl, but Church just squeezes harder, and a small whimper escapes me. There's something about that sound that gives him pause, and his grip relaxes just enough that I'm able to turn my head away. But when I try to get out of the trunk, Church shoves me back in, pushes my legs in after me, and closes it on me. “Hey!” I shout, starting to feel a small surge of panic. If Dad's already retreated to his room for the night, then he might not hear me out here. I could be trapped all night. “Church!”
I can hear his footsteps moving off down the path before he pauses, and a small surge of relief races through me. He moves back in my direction, and I get ready for the trunk to open. Instead, it sounds like Church is bending down and putting his mouth near the lock.
“Sleep well, Chuck. And remember: this is your last chance. If you keep digging up old skeletons, you might just get shoved in the grave along with them.”
And then Church is walking away, and I'm left to scream myself hoarse inside the trunk of my dad's car.Eventually, I give up and fall asleep. Dad will be up early, and then I can start screaming again. There's no point in it now. That, and like an idiot, I left my phone sitting on the kitchen island. Fat load of good that does me.
After god only knows how long of listening to the owls, I drift off. When I wake up later, shivering like crazy, I find that the trunk's been opened and moonlight's spilling in and across my skin in silver beams.
Blinking stupidly, I sit up and rub at my eyes. Church must've come back to let me out. Maybe even he realized how screwed-up leaving me in the trunk of a car was?
“Asshole,” I mumble, climbing out of bed and yawning as I stretch my arms above my head. I have no idea what time it is, but it's freezing cold and there are tiny white snowflakes drifting down from a navy sky.
My feet crunch across the icy pebbles as I make my way up to the front door.
It's locked.
Seriously?
“Fuck,” I curse as I rub my hands over my face again. I want my phone, but whatever. I'll check the back door, and if it's locked, I'll just go back to the dorms.
I'm starting around the side of the house when I hear something rustling in the woods not fifty feet from where I'm standing. My heart starts racing, but I tell myself it's just a deer, or a raccoon, or maybe another stupid owl.
I make myself keep walking, pretending like I'm not a wuss and that my hands aren't shaking. They totally are. Just be cool, Charlotte. Be cool. I grab the handle on the back door, and find that it, too, is locked. For some reason, I don't feel like it'd be a good idea to bang on the door and wake my dad up. Even if I told him what Church did to me, he probably wouldn't believe it. No, somehow, I'd probably end up getting in trouble over it.
When I turn around, there's a man standing in the shadows at the edge of the woods. He's got a dark hoodie on, and I can't see any identifying features. But holy hell, he's still creepy as fuck.
“What do you want?” I snap, my voice echoing across the empty lawn between us. Crossing my arms over my chest, I tell myself that I look like a tough guy … even with my floppy blond hair and glasses. Right. “Because I'm getting tired of you sneaking up on me.”
