Page 10 of Push

“One hundred percent.”

And why?

When I lined up the facts, what was the logical conclusion?

Toby had stayed at the party after his best friend had left. He was alone with Kayleigh.

The only question now was what I planned to do about it.

4

He Didn’t Go Home

Toby

Tap, tap, tap.

I lifted my head. The world was dark and fuzzy around the edges. I squinted through the pain spearing my temple and strained my tired eyes to focus on something—anything—in front of me. Smudged streetlights floated on a sea of black.

Was it…nighttime?

I blinked again. Haze shaped like a tree. The blurred outline of a parking meter. A…steering wheel?

My head jerked back and hit the headrest, pain shooting through my skull.

Shit.

I’d fallen asleep in the car.

I tugged a hand through my hair, and the stench of stale booze smacked me in the face. I sniffed under my arm. That couldn’t be…me? How long had I been slumped over the steering wheel?I’d only meant to close my eyes for a few minutes until I was sober enough to drive home.

Tap, tap, tap.

Confusion drilled deep in my chest. That noise again. My eyes went wild in every direction, and I ended up flicking a look over my shoulder out the window. My body seized up.

Eyes—crinkled, deep-set, no face—stared back.

There was another impatient knock against the window, and a muffled voice barked, “Sir?”

I almost didn’t want to look. Cautious, my pulse thundering, I glanced back over my shoulder. The crinkled eyes stared back. Rolling lights of blue and red lit up a leather jacket…a badge…a helmet…and the motorcycle parked beside my car.

A cop.

Great. Just…great.

The cop pointed down. My brain was foggy. It took me a few beats to realize he was signaling to lower the window. I smashed the button on the door. Nothing happened.

The cop’s eyes narrowed, and he pointed down again.

Frantic, I stabbed at the button over and over. He must have thought I was a moron. Or drunk. Or both. My tired brain finally registered that the car needed to be turned on to use the electric windows. I thumped the button for the ignition. The dash lit up.

I forgot all about the pissed-off cop glaring at me. My eyes were glued to the clock.

12:18 a.m.

My breath seized in frozen lungs.

Gwen was going to skin me alive. She was already on edge, subjecting me to an endless inquisition and raising her eyebrow whenever I mentioned Kayleigh’s name. How wouldthislook? I’d royally screwed up. Didn’t this prove Gwen had been right to be worried?

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