“I’m just supposed to trust you? I don’t think so.”
“Even if I say, Okay, I promise I won’t tell, even if you go back to picking on my friends, how does that change anything, since you don’t trust me? Did you think this conversation through at all?”
A look of dismay flickers across his handsome face. I mean, I don’t want to date him but he’s attractive, no denying that. “I’m not stupid,” he snaps.
You could’ve fooled me.
“But my mom is,” he goes on quietly. “She trusts people … sees the best in them. So when that asshole Warick tells her it’s just a matter of time until he leaves his wife—”
“It means it’s never gonna happen,” I finish.
“Yeah. And it seems like I’ve spent my whole life protecting her, trying to keep her from making another stupid move, including sleeping with my friends.”
Wow, why the hell is he telling me this?
“They’d get her drunk, nail her, and then give me shit about it for the rest of my life. Which is why I have to be the baddest, scariest asshole at school. These guys have to know I will not hesitate to pull the trigger if they cross me.”
Dammit. I finally see his point.
“And if you back off Shane and Lila after our private convo, they’ll see it as weakness.”
He nods. “Blood in the water. So we can go down this road, but I guarantee I’ve got more practice being bad.”
“You might be surprised.”
“I doubt it. What’s it gonna be, Princess? Do we call a truce, you forget what you know and things go back to normal, or do I start digging for your secrets?”
My blood chills. Though I’m not sure, my case file should be confidential. Since everything happened when I was so young, the records are sealed and they’ll be expunged when I turn eighteen. I’m terrified, but I can’t reveal my vulnerability to Dylan. Right now, he’s just guessing that I have something to hide. I shouldn’t confirm it.
Silently, I shake my head.
“Bad move,” he says softly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my mom.”
Ignoring him, I pull my bike off the ground and ride away, half expecting him to come after me with his truck. But he doesn’t. If nothing else, I’ve learned the key to Dylan Smith tonight. He’s not a bully for the fun of it, and I don’t think he’s a sociopath, either. He’s just driven by the desire to defend his mother. I’d almost feel sorry for him, except for the dread churning in my gut.
He’s not playing. He’ll search for anything he can use to discredit me. Logic dictates I should wreck him, shoot first, so to speak. If the whole school’s talking about what a slut his mom is, they won’t listen when he shit-talks me later. But … I don’t know if I can.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The next day, I expect there to be immediate fallout, where Dylan challenges my resolve by going back to his old habits, but instead we maintain a cautious truce. This can’t last, however. Once he has some bullets for his figurative gun, I’m going down. It’s only a matter of time before the peace I’ve won for Shane and Lila runs out. So now I have to decide what kind of person I am—the good girl I’ve been pretending to be or Shadow Sage, bad enough to ruin someone else’s life. The idea horrifies me, but I’m nearly frozen over the idea of everyone learning my secrets. Rock and a hard place, devil and the deep blue sea. At this point, my two choices seem to be bad and worse.
At least Shane’s leveled up socially. One of the girls from the Coffee Shop recorded a few songs on her phone and posted them on YouTube, then she forwarded the link to everyone she knows on Facebook. He has almost two thousand views on his Good Charlotte cover already, and today, people know his name as he walks me to my next class. They chin-lift at him, call his name, and say “sup” when I can tell he has no idea who they are.
“This is so weird,” he says, shaking his head.
I shrug. “It’s a small school.”