Page 66 of Blackmailing the Bad Girl

Chapter Fifteen

Someone was banging on the door.

Summer pulled her head from underneath the pillow long enough to yell, “Go away. I’m asleep.”

Of course, she wasn’t. She’d hardly slept at all in the last two nights.

She’d half expected Nik to come storming after her. She’d built herself up to making him go away, persuading him that anything between them right now was a mistake, that she hated rich people and that the party had shown her she didn’t want to be part of his privileged life. When he hadn’t shown up, she’d deflated. Somehow, she’d convinced herself that she didn’t care. More to the point, that Nik didn’t care. He’d wanted her, and he’d had her, and he’d probably realized that she was more trouble than she was worth.

And oh God, what was she going to do about Steven Trenton? He might not have recognized her at the party. But he’d certainly known he’d seen her before. And if he thought about it enough, he’d come up with the answer. She was living on borrowed time. Any moment, she could expect the police at the door.

Dread crawled through her, churning in her stomach, threatening to erupt into an uncontrollable spiral of panic.

She couldn’t go back inside.

Just the thought made her want to throw up.

At least there were no more knocks on her door. She knew Regan and Darcy were worried about her. She’d felt their eyes following her on the few brief occasions she’d emerged from her room. But she couldn’t involve them in her problems. They’d want to help, and how could they? She couldn’t let them get tangled up in her troubles.

Then something prodded her in the back.

She sat bolt upright, the pillow falling to the floor. Her eyes wide.

Darcy and Regan stood side by side, next to her bed, hands on their hips, identical expressions of grim determination on their faces.

“I was sleeping,” she muttered. “Aren’t I allowed to sleep?”

“It’s ten o’clock on a Monday morning,” Darcy said. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“I called in sick.” Actually, she’d texted to Nik’s phone, said she had a stomach bug and would be in when she was better. He’d replied immediately—could he help in any way? She hadn’t answered. Because he couldn’t.

Regan’s eyes narrowed on her, assessing. “And are you sick?”

She nodded. “I don’t feel well.”

Darcy pulled her phone out of her pocket.

“What are you doing?” Summer asked.

“Calling the doctor, of course.”

“I’m not that sick. I just need to sleep.”

Regan let out a huge sigh as she sank down on the mattress beside her. “Please talk to us, Summer. You’ve been hiding something since I got out, something to do with this job. Just share whatever it is that’s bothering you. That’s what we’re supposed to do for one another.”

“You can’t help.”

Darcy sat on the other side, tugged Summer’s hand from where she clutched the sheet. “Maybe we can’t help, but if you share whatever it is that’s bothering you, then we can try. And it won’t seem so bad when it’s out in the open.”

“Want to bet?” She bit her lip, swallowed. “I think I’ve fallen in love.”

Where the hell had those words come from? She hadn’t meant to say that. She hadn’t even been thinking it. Of course she hadn’t, because it wasn’t true. Couldn’t be true.

Both Darcy and Regan were staring at her.

“Well, that’s not what we were expecting,” Darcy said.

“But it’s sort of nice,” Regan added.

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