Page 10 of If You Dare

Hand over my mouth, I race out of the room.

* * *

Even though allI want to do is go back to my dorm room, bury my head under the comforter, and cry, I can’t skip my first day of work.

Work-study is part of my full-ride to Diamond. If I don’t work, I don’t get to remain a student. Luckily, the library was hiring.

Reading and writing have been my solace my entire life. My dad died when I was four, so it’s almost always just been me and Mom. Being a single parent meant she had to bust her ass working two or three jobs, so I spent most of my time at home alone. No one at school ever understood why reading and writing became the only things I wanted to do. Mom’s supportive, but even she doesn’t fully understand the obsession. Why I’d want to go to college for an English degree that will offer few job opportunities when I’ve watched her struggle my whole life. But writing and books are all I’ve ever known.

Chloe would be so happy for me if she knew I landed a job at the library. Too bad this place is so quiet, I can’t keep my thoughts off her.

“Should be an easy job for you. Students normally come to the library to study or find a book for class.” Edith is an older librarian with white, cropped hair, thin-framed glasses, and an appetite for steamy romance.

I already like her.

“Your job is to make sure I don’t have to do mine.” She’s perched on a chair low to the ground. So low you almost can’t see her behind the circulation desk. She pats her legs. “These old things aren’t what they used to be. Your job is stacking books and keeping my nose in my latest novel. If you can do that, I don’t care what you do in your downtime. Study, do homework, read a book, text your boyfriend, scroll on the TikToks, whatever it is you kids do these days.”

I grin. “I think I can manage that.”

She guides me through how to use the computer and the library system before I push the full cart of books back to the shelves. Edith disappears into the back office to read undisturbed.

While I’m stacking, the door to the library opens. Someone dings the bell at the desk.

“I’ll be right there!” I call.

I hope Edith is right about this being a lowkey job that involves blessedly minimal interaction with my fellow students. But I can’t pretend to ignore the looks. It’s been even worse being back on campus than I thought it would be.

But that’s what I deserve.

A pair of heavy boots approaches. I keep my eyes on the stack of books in front of me until the footsteps get unnervingly close. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Whoever they are, they’re getting closer and closer. At the last second, I realize they don’t intend to pass me.

When I finally turn, there’s a flash of movement before I’m shoved up against the bookshelf. My spine slams into the wood, a gasp escaping my lips.

He pins me by the shoulders, looming over me with fire raging in his blue eyes.

Wes Novak.

When I imagined our reunion after Chloe’s death, I thought Wes would wrap me in a warm, tight hug. That he’d sob in my arms while I attempted to comfort him. That we’d cry together, finding solace in each other in the darkest moment of our lives.

But there is nothing warm or comforting about him now.

The scent of his cedarwood cologne wafts up my nose. Gone is the guy who used to wear long shorts, a simple T-shirt, and old sneakers. The hockey player with the boyish smile and rugged good looks. Startling blue eyes, six-foot-four frame, sex-addled brown hair, and arms that looked like they could pick me up and throw me.

This man in front of me is in dark jeans, a button-up with sleeves rolled to the elbows, and a pair of black combat boots I’ve never seen before. Boots he wore to stomp me into the earth.

This man wants me dead.

“Why the fuck are you here?” he growls. His sharp, square jaw flexes. The muscles bulging on his biceps are rock-hard on either side of me. Before Chloe died, I would’ve given anything to be in this position with Wes.

Now, it’s terrifying.

This is the first time he’s spoken to me since that night. Since he told me to shut the fuck up because I was screaming over the dead body of his little sister.

I dare a glance away from him, desperate to make eye contact with anybody who might be able to save me. But there’s no one around.

I am all alone with Wes Novak, the captain of the Devils.

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