His light-blond hair and baby-blue eyes, paired with his pretty face, had all the girls vying for his attention.
“I’ll go with you and Elle.”
“I thought so. Later, man.” They went their separate ways, with Elle and Chloe going with Nero and Vincent heading toward his own car.
Nero held onto Elle’s hand as he opened the back door for Chloe to get in. She slid in and shut her door, and he then opened the passenger side door for Elle to get in. Elle climbed into Nero’s Cadillac, thinking about how practically all the other girls in the school had climbed into this seat, as well. She hated thinking about it; it made her sick. She knew, no matter what, she wasn’t going to be like one of those girls, though.
Nero didn’t have to be told the way to go to Chloe’s house; he knew exactly where she lived without asking. The whole city knew. He pulled up to her house, swinging in the cul-de-sac and stopping the car right in front of the picture-perfect, big white house.
Chloe opened the door. “I’ll text you later, Elle.”
Elle turned her head over the seat and smiled. “Okay. Bye, Chloe.”
Chloe got out of the car and shut the door then turned around and waved goodbye to her friend. Elle waved back and mouthed “good luck” to her before Nero drove off.
When they reached the long, paved road, realization hit Elle as she told him where she lived. She was now alone, with Nero, in his car.
Wonderful.
Chapter Ten
I’m Not a Rat
Elle, finally being alone with Nero in a confined space, really studied him. His battered hand held the steering wheel not too tightly. He was calm, looking like he was almost at peace. She could tell he was thinking, that maybe he drove to think. He looked like he loved being behind the wheel. His eyes, that looked like they belonged to an animal, were pinned to the road ahead of him. Why had she thought of him like a wolf earlier? Maybe that’s because of the color.
His black hair was just slightly in his face. She could tell he was still getting used to his shorter hair by the way he would push his hair straight back to smooth it down. She liked when he did that because he only did it when he was feeling something. Because he acts like he has no emotions.
His tan contrasted with his white shirt, making him look possibly tanner than he was. He always wore a light-colored, expensive button-up shirt, but he never buttoned it all the way up; consequently, you could always see a hint of his chest. He wore dark trousers, as well, always in dark gray, navy, or black. This actually was typical for a prep school; every student dressed to impress. However, Nero’s look was very dull compared to the other male students who dressed rather flamboyantly. They would have finished it off with a hideously-colored jacket and made it a full suit.
Nero’s smile drew her out of her thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”
“Trying to figure out what you’re thinking.”
“Oh, so that’s why you haven’t pulled your eyes away from me.”
Elle moved her eyes to the road. She was embarrassed he had caught her gawking.
“I was thinking about what you said earlier. About how we never did anything to stop them from hurting you.”
Elle kept her eyes on the road, not saying anything. The thing was, there wasn’t anything to say.
“I don’t know why we didn’t. I thought only the girls were doing it, to be honest. I didn’t know that Sebastian was, too.” Elle saw his hand grip the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white from the pressure.
She turned her head to look out the passenger window. She didn’t want her face to show anything.
Nero took his injured right hand off the steering wheel and grasped Elle’s hand. “He has done something to you before, hasn’t he?”
Elle looked down at his hand in hers and observed his knuckles. She touched the scrape that lay on his middle knuckle and ran her fingertip along each red and swollen area, weaving in and out of all four knuckles. “I saw Sebastian’s face in the parking lot. You should really put some ice on this.”
Elle’s silence answered his question.
“Then he and I are even now.” She kept the pace of running her finger along his knuckles as his hand lay in her lap.
“You’re not going to tell me what he did, are you?” He pulled his eyes off the road for a second to look at her.
“No, I’m not.”
“Why not?”
Elle thought about those two words. ‘Why not?’ After these last years, she had never told a soul about what happened to her in school, and had never revealed to anyone about what had happened to Chloe. Then, just two nights before, she had seen someone murdered and had instantly been certain she was never going to tell anyone in her life. So, why not? Elle felt like maybe she was wired that way—to keep secrets, to keep her mouth shut. She was always like that. It was in her DNA. She pictured the boss in her mind and that brought her to exactly why she would never tell.