Page 58 of These Dead Promises


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“Okay, we hate her, right? Tell me we hate her.”

“Oh, we hate her,” Nate said.

“What a bitch. Are you okay?” Chloe asked me.

“Yeah. She’s Marc Denby’s girlfriend.”

“More like his latest piece of ass.” I glanced at Nate and he shrugged. “What?” he said. “It’s true. Marc doesn’t like to be tied down.”

“Said every guy ever.” Chloe’s expression dropped, and Nate frowned.

“Bad break up?”

She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger but didn’t meet his eyes. “Something like that.”

“We got extra.” Celeste and Miles reappeared, thrusting a bag of cotton candy at me. “Hold up, what happened?”

“Chloe met Angela.”

“Ugh, unlucky for you.”

“Is she always such a bitch?”

“Every second of every day. You know, it was probably her that sent the text message to Har—”

“Celeste,” I hissed. I didn’t need to be thinking about that particular thing right now.

“What? It’s true.”

“Well now I want to wipe that fake smile right off her stupid pretty face.”

“No fighting,” I said.

“Fine. I’ll behave.” Chloe laced her arm through mine. “We should probably find our seats.”

Chloe stuck to my side as Nate guided us through the crowd, Miles and Celeste trailing behind. If people’s curious stares bothered Chloe, she didn’t let it be known as she talked about everything and nothing.

We filed into the bleachers and found our seats, but the second I spotted Max and Nate’s brother Toby, my stomach sank.

“Seriously, you couldn’t have sat somewhere else?” I snapped at Max.

He smirked, shrugging his shoulders. “Free country, weirdo.”

“Ignore him.” Celeste leaned around Chloe. “I do.”

Nate snickered and I pinned him with an incredulous look. “Tell me you didn’t arrange this?”

“Not my doing.” He held up his hands. “But you might want to ask your boyfriend.”

“Nix… but I don’t understand.” I glanced back at Max who was paying me no attention, the shadow of a bruise along his cheekbone. I’d heard him tell Michael he had a fight with a door, but I knew exactly whose knuckles had left that mark.

And it bothered me more than it should have.

Music exploded out of the PA system making me flinch. Nate touched my arm and mouthed, “Okay?”

I nodded, focusing on my breathing, the feel of the cool plastic seat under my thighs. But the blood pounding in my ears was overwhelming, like a second heartbeat reverberating in my skull.

Chloe’s fingers slid through mine, offering me an anchor. I could do this. I could sit and watch a football game with my friends. With people who had been here for me regardless of what had happened last year. In spite of what happened.

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