Page 38 of How to Kidnap a Fake Date
I snort out a laugh, which immediately turns into a mortified cough. Laughing feels wildly inappropriate after kidnapping and riding the poor fucker.
The silence descends again in a thick blanket. I can feel his stare hitting the side of my head, like he’s trying to work out whether I’m dangerous, deranged, or just catastrophically pathetic.
Honestly, all three are fair.
‘So,’ he says, eventually. ‘Are you going to explain what the hell we’re about to do?’
I very much want to barf. At least that might pause the conversation a little longer.
‘Yeah. I guess I should explain.’
I do not want to explain. Roman already thinks I’m crazy. How much of my wild family do I let him know about?
All of it, I guess. In for a penny and all that.
But where the hell do I begin?
‘This is the bit where you regret getting in the car,’ I say.
His eyebrow lifts. ‘I’m not sure I had a choice, to be fair.’
I exhale and grip the wheel even harder.
‘Okay. Eddie first.’
‘The ex?’
‘Yes. Him.’ I immediately want to rewind.Abort.
But it’s too late to try and hide my crazy life from Roman. I very much dragged him into it, and I can’t go back now.
‘We dated. Very briefly. In university.’
‘Did he also get the maniac treatment? Did ya tie him to your radiator and make him regret his life choices?’ Roman’s voice may have been filled with sarcasm, but when I glanced over at him, he looked paler than usual.
His jokes aren’t going to make what I’m about to say land any easier.
‘He kind of murdered one of my professors.’
Roman blinks. ‘He?—’
‘Killed him,’ I blurt. Ripping off the band-aid. ‘Pushed him right down a stairwell in front of me.’
‘Why?’ Roman’s voice sounded altogether mouse-like as it hit several octaves higher than usual.
I swallow hard.
‘Because the professor looked at me for too long.’
There it is. The awful reality of my world. Well, the world I’mtryingto escape.
‘Looked at you,’ Roman repeats.
‘For too long,’ I add, not that it makes it any better.
His silence is suffocating. I immediately want to somehow explain it better. Not that there is any way I can reasonably explain Eddie. He’s a fucking nutjob.
‘He said it was his animalistic instincts,’ I babble. ‘That men like that needed to know which women were acceptable to letch on, and which weren’t. That he couldn’t help himself. Which was obviously a massive fucking red flag. Even if the professor had been into me – which he absolutely wasn’t – you can’t just go deleting him.’
