Page 45 of Coveted

I swipe through the home screen. “What did you do?”

“A murderer wants you dead, Sadie. I put an app on your phone so I can find you if you’re in trouble.”

“You mean a tracker?”

He shrugs. “Is that a problem?”

Yes. A massive one.

Lucan Hale has problem written all over him. I should run a mile from him and never look back.

He’s right about one thing though. I’m in real danger.

“He said my name.” I stare out the window at the dark trees whipping past. “He called me Sadie. Does that mean I know him personally?”

“Not necessarily,” says Lucan. “Everyone has heard you were the witness to Parker’s murder. He might just know your name.”

“But how did he know I’d be at Altar? Did you tell anyone you invited me?”

“No.” He pauses. “Did you tell anyone you were going?”

“My roommates, and Zahra from class.”

Lucan rubs his stubbled jaw. “You told three chatty freshmen. So the whole world could know by now.”

I jab him in the ribs, which is like poking a steel barrel, and he doesn’t flinch.

“Hey, there’s safety in girls telling each other things,” I say. “Usually.”

“People talk at Darkbloom. Constantly. Anything you say at lunchtime has passed through the ears of at least half a dozen people by dinnertime. Be aware of that.”

“I am now.”

“He’ll try again,” says Lucan, our bodies close in the luxurious cocoon of the gliding car. “I’m not going to stand by and do nothing.”

I’m about to retort with something snarky, but then I remember his hurt expression when I asked if he killed Parker.

Lucan has lost two cousins to this murderer. Just because he wears a cool, stoic mask doesn’t mean he feels no grief.

Catching this killer is about more than protecting my life. Hannah and Parker Hale deserve justice too. They deserve peace.

“Okay,” I say. “What do you have in mind?”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile. “You’ll see.”

I think I regret it already.

CHAPTER 11

Sadie

The next day, uniformed men crowd the hallway of my dorm when I return from morning classes.

The workmen are drilling holes in my front door, toolboxes open at their feet.

“Can I help you?” I ask over the loud mechanical whining.

A man pauses drilling. “Sadie Marlowe?”