As she was about to return to the ball, she heard whispers and froze.
“The rap?” muttered someone down the hall.
“Big haul tonight.”
She listened intently as they talked, her heart beating against her ribs. This was it. A real lead at last.
By the time she emerged, they were gone. She strolled to the far end of the corridor and pulled out her phone.
No one was around. “Vince? I think we can get a warrant for the Tenebras headquarters tonight. I got a tip on a Rapture delivery. I just need to verify it. Maybe we can finally get enough to shut those bastards down.”
Ben
Ben paced the halls behind the gym, ignoring the muffled throbbing of the bass. He still wasn’t sure why he had come to the dance, without a date, without a costume. Catching a glimpse of Elisa dancing with Adrian was enough. He’d had to leave the gym to be alone for a while.
He rounded a corner and saw Cesar Peralta and Mario Fonseca talking at the very end of a long hallway. Cesar passed something to Mario, and the two of them split off in opposite directions.
Ben stared after them. He knew Cesar was one of Adrian Salas’s best friends; the two were always together. He had seen them talking only a few minutes ago. After Adrian had spoken at length to Cesar, he had nodded and trotted off.
Could Cesar be connected with Tenebras? He was obviously doing some sort of business with Mario, a high-ranking member of the gang. If Cesar was Tenebras, then surely Adrian must be too.
Straight-A, squeaky-clean, student body president Adrian Salas was in Tenebras.
Ben’s spirits suddenly lifted. All he had to do was prove it, and tell Elisa about the connection. Surely she would see that Adrian was no good for her. Chin high, he tiptoed down the hall, following in Cesar’s wake.
Elisa
The music throbbed in Elisa’s skull, wild and wicked. It slammed all rational thought out of her and left her swinging in the darkness, whirling in Adrian’s hands.
Adrian knew how to lead. His skill made Elisa feel like she could dance, too. Even as she tottered on her stiletto heels, he twirled and carried her through the music. When the song ended, she found herself in a deep dip, one leg pointing into the air. She gazed straight into his eyes, grateful that his arms were keeping her from an inevitable, humiliating crash onto the floor.
She relaxed completely and allowed him to reel her into the next dance. The strobes spun around her head, flashing and outlining a press of bodies all around them, and nothing was certain in the dark world except Adrian and his strength and confidence, his completely secure grasp as he poured her boneless body from one step to the next.
It was exhilarating. She felt overheated and excited and strangely graceful.
Like a totally different person.
She was a different person.
Elisa was free of her mother. She was done with her.
She shouted in Adrian’s ear. “I’m thirsty.” Laughing, she led the way to the punch table and scooped herself a brimming ladle of bright orange liquid.
“Not that one, Elisa.” Adrian touched her arm. “You want the punch at the other table.”
“Why?” She glanced at the cup.
“That one’s spiked. Someone put vodka in it.”
She frowned. “I know what spiked means.” Tonight she wasn’t naïve, rule-following Elisa. “I want some anyway,” she declared.
Adrian looked shocked, then amused. He poured out half the cup and replaced it with punch from the other bowl. “You don’t want to have too much your first time.”
“What? Why not?”
He slanted her a wicked grin. “I want your first experience breaking the rules to be pleasant, so you’ll do it again.” He handed her the cup with a flourish.
She raised it to him in salute and gulped it straight down. Dancing had made her thirsty, and she didn’t taste anything odd about the punch.
He raised his eyebrows at her but said nothing.
“That felt good,” she announced. She stuck her empty cup in Adrian’s hand and poked his chest. “I want more.”
Laughing, he filled her cup from the other bowl. “I think that was enough.”
She swayed in mock outrage. “What!” She slid her toy gun out of its thigh holster and pointed it at him. “Give me some more, now!”
He pushed the barrel of her gun aside. “It’s not a good idea to get in the habit of pointing even a toy gun at anyone… unless you mean to shoot them.”
“Hey.” She tried to get around Adrian to reach the punch bowl, but her shoes had become difficult to balance on. He caught her before she could tip over completely.
“What would Bonnie do?” she asked, struggling up out of his arms. “She would have another cup.”
Adrian’s arms gripped her like velvet-covered iron. “She would do what Clyde told her to,” he murmured in her ear.
Elisa giggled and hung on his neck. “Aw, don’t you want to get me drunk and have your way with me?”
“I don’t need to get you drunk to have my way with you. Besides, I would want you to remember.” He tugged her back to the dance floor.
The music shifted to another slow dance. Adrian’s hands stroked up her back and tangled in her hair. “I find your hair irresistible,” he murmured. “So thick, and long, and lush.”
She rested her cheek against his chest. “I want to dance with you all night.”
His chest vibrated as he chuckled. “I don’t mind. I can’t go home tonight, anyway.”
“What? Why not?”
His fingers, resting on her bare back, tightened. “My aunt told me not to.”
“What happened?” She knew he didn’t get along with his aunt very well, but he was so close-mouthed about his family that she had no idea if his parents were even alive.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters!” she declared, indignant for him. “And I have an extra couch,” she said, greatly daring. “My mother will be at her retreat for another couple of months, so you can sleep at my place.”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. Of course you can stay with me. You can stay any time.” She buried her face in his shirt. The fabric was soft against her skin, and his scent lingered on it. Her mother and Carlos would never have allowed her to let a boy stay in their apartment overnight. But she was done listening to them.
Adrian stroked her hair again and kissed her forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“You don’t even need to ask, Adrian. I’d like my home to be yours.” She stopped. Surely that was coming on too strong. That almost sounded like a declaration of… something serious. And it was far too early to be serious.
But his gaze was strange and warm. “Elisa,” he said softly. “I’ve been alone for a very long time. I haven’t had a home for so long.” He drew her in to his chest again. “Not since…” He broke off, and his voice changed. It became rougher than she had ever heard—broken, almost hesitant. For a moment, it seemed like he was no longer perfectly confident, cool, and utterly in control.
“Elisa, you make me feel things I haven’t felt since I did have a home. I want to tell you something I have never told anyone else. About my family.” He paused, and she made an encouraging noise. “When I was five—”
Before he could finish, the crowd of dancers parted, and Ben was shoved hard toward them. He fell against Elisa, and she lost her balance. In a flash, Adrian grabbed her and stopped her from falling.
“Be careful!” he hissed at Ben in a low, dangerous voice.
Ben stepped back, his face red. He hesitated for a long beat, glancing at Elisa as if he were about to say something. Then he whirled away and disappeared into the crowd.
“You were saying?” Elisa prompted, hoping to get Adrian back into a confessional mood.
Adrian shrugged. “Nothing important, really. Why don’t we just enjoy the music for a while?” H
e seized two fistfuls of her hair, drew her close, and crushed his mouth against hers. His lips pressed warm and demanding on hers; her heart drubbed against his. His tongue burst past her lips and swept fast and deep into her.
14
Elisa
ELISA SASHAYED OUT of the overheated gym into the cold, clear midnight air. The stiletto heels were tough to balance on, and she leaned heavily on Adrian. He held her in a secure grip and playfully stroked the bare skin of her shoulders. It felt brazen and delicious, like he was asserting his ownership of her in public, and she tipped her head against his chest.
Whenever her mother saw a young couple on the street with their arms wrapped around each other, she would always shake her head. “How shameful! I know you’ll never do something so disgusting.”
Remembering, Elisa put both arms around Adrian and rubbed against him. It gave her a forbidden thrill. His chest was firm underneath the suit, and she reveled in the play of his muscles flexing around her.
They reached his tiny sports car, and she pouted. “Your car isn’t very good to snuggle in.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t we take another, then?” He scanned the parking lot, strode to a gleaming older Plymouth Valiant, and began to fiddle with the lock.
She giggled, disbelieving, as he popped open the door. “Adrian, you’re not actually stealing a car!”
“This one has a wide bench seat. Perfect for snuggling.” He lifted her, still protesting feebly, into the front.
Her bare legs tingled against the soft nap of the velveteen as she tried to decide what to say. Her heart pounded. This couldn’t be happening. A game was one thing, but actually breaking the law...?
He slid into the driver’s seat and reached under the dashboard. “Ah. Easy to hotwire.”
The engine started. He backed out of the parking space and she finally found her voice. “Adrian! I can’t believe this.”
He grinned. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your eyes so wide.” He patted the seat beside him. “Slide over. One of the advantages of an automatic transmission—I can use my right arm for something better than shifting.”
She fitted herself into the curl of his arm, her entire body sparking with a blend of terror and exhilaration. “You can’t—I mean, this isn’t—oh, Adrian!”
They turned onto the main road and Adrian accelerated with his usual verve. She clutched his leg and squeezed her eyes shut.
He chuckled. “It’s almost more fun watching you than driving.”
She cracked open one eye. “Nooo! Watch the road!” she cried. Visions of being arrested in the hospital flashed in front of her eyes. “Adrian, put it back. Put the car back, please.”
He slowed at once and made a U-turn. “Whatever you say, Elisa. But I have to admit,” he confessed with an impish grin, “this is Rory’s car. We’re not really stealing. I texted him, and he won’t mind if I borrow it.”
She gaped. “What?” She swung at him with her tiny beaded purse. “You let me think—”
He shot her a puppy-dog glance from under his fedora. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist teasing you. I’ll put it back. And I’ll be good now.”
She collapsed against him, relief flooding her body. Then she said, “No. I’ve changed my mind. I like this car better than yours. Let’s keep it.”
His jaw dropped in mock chagrin. “Better than my Lotus? Ouch. You’re better at revenge than I thought.”
She grinned, feeling wild again. “Let’s take this baby out on the open road.”
Elisa’s eyes flew open. It was the middle of the night. A blue glow streamed underneath her bedroom door. Her pulse raced as she thought of those alien abduction stories in the tabloids.
As she woke more fully, she realized there was a rational explanation. She had her first houseguest ever, sleeping in the living room. A houseguest who had made her drink about a gallon of water after they got back from the dance.
Adrian had insisted the couch was comfortable enough for him. They had said a chaste good night. No, she had not been disappointed; she had definitely not hoped he would try something. Not at all.
She drew on her robe and eased open the bedroom door. The couch was empty, blankets thrown back from the cushions, and Adrian’s laptop was sitting open on the coffee table—the source of the blue glow. The front door was ajar, and she heard a murmur of conversation from the hallway. Who was he talking to at three in the morning?
The laptop had a couple of browser windows open. She bent closer to check the website and recognized the logo: the Common Application for college admissions. Although she used the site often herself, she didn’t recognize the page he was on: the teacher recommendation page. She skimmed it and saw phrases such as, “most brilliant student I’ve had in twenty years of teaching,” “truly altruistic and always helping others,” and “natural leader.” The letter was partially completed, the cursor blinking in the text field. At the bottom was a teacher’s digital signature.
That was odd. This section of the website was supposed to be password-protected, accessible only by teachers.
She clicked on one of the other windows. It was the College Board site, open to a page listing Adrian’s results for the SAT. “Congratulations! Out of the nearly two million US students who took the Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT) this year, you are one of only 273 who received a perfect score.”
She knew he was smart, but she had never known anyone who got a perfect score on the SAT before. He hadn’t even told her about it.
Wait. What was she doing? She shouldn’t spy on Adrian this way. She put all the windows back the way she had found them. If he wanted to tell her his SAT score, he would. He must have a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he was on the teacher recommendation page.
And what did it matter, anyway? She crept back into her room. Her bed was cold. She lay awake, staring at the ceiling, still lit with that pale blue glow. She rolled over and punched her pillow. She twisted from side to side, then jumped out of bed.
Adrian was working at the computer when she came out of her bedroom.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey yourself.” He closed his laptop. “You can’t sleep either?”
A sliver of moon shone through the curtains and made his skin glow. “No. I missed you.”
Brazenly, she pushed his computer aside and sat on his lap. He laughed a little. “Someone still a bit buzzed?”
“No. As a matter of fact I’m not nearly drunk enough. Can we get something to drink? Or even better,” she announced recklessly, “how about some weed?”
Adrian looked alarmed. “Now Elisa, let’s take this one step at a time.”
“If you don’t know where to get any weed, I bet Ben does. Let’s go find him.”
She tried to get up, but Adrian locked his arms firmly around her waist. “You’re not going out in the middle of the night. You’re staying right here.”
“I’m done with being a good girl,” she said. “If we’re staying here, I want to go to bed.”
He threw her a bemused glance. “Elisa—”
She jumped off his lap and grabbed his hand. Then she tugged him into the bedroom.
“Elisa, I told myself I wouldn’t make any moves on you tonight, but if you make any, I’m not going to be able to stop you. I can’t resist you.”
She climbed into bed and patted the pillow.
“Let me rub your back. It might help you get to sleep.” He began to rub small circles all over her shoulders. She relaxed as his strong fingers worked on the knots in her back and neck. She rolled closer to him. He stretched out full-length on the bed and pressed himself against her. Heat radiated from beneath his thin shirt.
“Mmmm,” he murmured. “This feels good. You’re so warm.” His hands moved from her back to her hair, stroking her scalp. He rolled her over, bringing her face toward his, then drew his face to hers and his lips brushed the delicate skin at her throat. Tingles pricked up and down her spine.
She
tangled her fingers in his thick, soft hair and ran her hands over his warm shoulders. She bared her throat and neck to him, yearning for his lips to travel her heated skin.
“Adrian,” she whispered, “I’m scared.”
He pulled her head to his ever so gently, and his lips grazed her ear. “Elisa, sweetheart, don’t be. I’ll stop whenever you want. Do you want me to stop?”
The voices of her mother and brother were silent, at last. For once, she heard none of the chatter and scolding that filled her days and clogged her nights. It was her decision, hers and hers alone.
“No,” she whispered back, sliding her hands over his torso, silver in the moonlight. The muscles of his back rippled, silk over warm iron. “No. Don’t stop.”
“Are you sure?” Adrian’s voice was low and oddly hesitant. The bed shifted under his weight. Shadows and moonlight played across his face and Elisa couldn’t read his expression.
“I’m sure,” she whispered. “I want to do this.”
“Elisa, before we keep going, you should know—I’m not the man you think I am.”
Her heart beat faster. She knew, had always known somewhere deep within her, that he was dangerous. That he had a dark secret. That he wasn’t the type of boy Carlos would have wanted for her. “I don’t care.”
“I’ve done terrible things.” His voice was almost inaudible.
She didn’t want to hear him say it. Not now. “So have I!” she said recklessly before he could go on. “I cheated on a science quiz in seventh grade. And once—” She stumbled over the words. She had never admitted this to anyone. “Once I wanted this little heart-shaped aquamarine pendant. I wanted it so much. I stayed up every night to pray, on my knees for hours. Can you believe it? For some stupid little meaningless bit of jewelry. I kept going to Penney’s to stare at it and dream.
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