“Burst my eardrums why don’t you?” he grumbled.
And I’m real sorry about that, Lord, I really am. “I’m serious. Slow down or I’ll jump out. I swear I’ll jump out.” Save us today, and I’ll do better.
“Like I’d care.”
“Then I’ll talk nonstop until your ears try to detach just to escape the sound of my voice. And that’s totally possible. My ears have tried it.” I’ll be forever grateful, Lord. No one will ever be as grateful as me. Amen.
Frosty tossed me a scowl that perfectly fit his name, but he also decelerated. “There. Happy now?”
“Thank you,” I said, though I failed to relax. But what do you know? We reached my house a short while later. Alive. Thank You, Lord. Thank You, thank You.
Parked down the street from my grandparents’ house, Frosty faced me. “Cole says we can’t yell at you, so I want you to note the calmness of my voice.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I don’t kid.”
Words taken straight out of Cole’s mouth. And wow. I couldn’t believe Cole had gone to so much trouble for me. He’d skipped out on me without a word, probably to avoid answering any more questions; like he really cared what happened to me. But I had to admit I was curious what he would do if his friends actually yelled at me…and awed that his friends were that deferential to him.
“So have you noted my tone or not?” Frosty insisted.
“Noted.”
Thus began the threats that if I told anyone about what had happened, even Kat, I’d be bloody toast. Yawn. I’d just survived a car ride after a rabbit-sighting. More than that, Frosty was human, not zombie, and hindered by Cole. No way he’d really follow through.
“You told me this stuff already, you know,” I pointed out.
“Then let me tell you again.” And he did. Three more times, his tone morphing from barely leashed fury to condescension.
When he finished that third round of threats, I said, “Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you, huh? One minute you were fine with me, but now you can’t stand me.”
He tangled a hand through his dark blond hair. “I don’t know what you did to him. I mean, you’re hot, yeah, and you seem nice enough, but he doesn’t normally defend the new kid. And those vision things between the two of you are weird. And I’m just gonna say it, I don’t trust you. I’ve learned my lesson about people like you.”
“By ‘people like me,’ you better mean wonderful and caring.”
Frosty sputtered for a response, before finally settling on “After everything I’ve thrown at you, that’s what you have to say?”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about the fact that he and Cole shared the same incredulous reaction when dealing with me. “Yes.”
“You are such a chick.”
I widened my eyes in mock surprise. “No way. Are you sure?”
Sighing again, he rubbed at the tattoos on his wrist. “Mackenzie was right. You aren’t slayer material.”
Before he had time to register my intentions, I threw a punch. My sore, swollen knuckles slammed into his cheekbone, thrusting his head to the side. Pain shot up my arm, but I bit my tongue to stop a moan.
“You were saying?”
He popped his jaw, rubbed at the reddening skin—and slowly grinned. “Okay, so now I understand why Cole likes you. You’re worse than Kat. And don’t you dare ask if I think Cole likes you more than Mackenzie, you should know I’m not talking about his feelings, her feelings, your feelings, or anything to do with that crap. Got it?”
I’d already known I was far from normal, but this proved it. As he’d spoken, I’d skipped from “Kat” to “feelings” to “crap,” and put together a few pieces of the Kat versus Frosty and Trina puzzle. “I’m guessing you never cheated on Kat. You were…what? Injured the night you phoned her?”
“Injured, yes,” was his only reply.
Bright rays of sun streamed past the tinted windows, causing his eyes to flash with fire, deepening the brown and burning away the blue. Lines of tension branched from the corners, making me wonder if he’d gotten any sleep last night. Probably not. His hair was disheveled from more than just the plow-through, and his clothes were wrinkled, as if he’d worn them all night.
I hadn’t gotten any sleep, either. Even though Cole had assured me the cabin was watched and guarded, every whistle of wind had rattled me. I’d paced in front of the only window in my (private) bedroom, and, of course, I’d listened at my door. Not that I’d heard anything.
“You called Trina immediately after talking to Kat because…” I prompted.