Page 74 of Quarterback Sneak
My father stares at me as his mind turns things over. “She said they were black?”
“Yes.”
My father stares at me, frowning hard. “What are you thinking?” My mother asks.
“Skinwalkers are black.”
My mother’s face pales, and I have to ask, “What are skinwalkers?”
My father meets my gaze head-on, his jaw hard. “Skinwalkers are not true shifters. They get their power from dark magic and force a shift that is unnatural.” I feel my blood go cold. “There was an alpha a long time ago that delved into dark magic, and skinwalkers were a result.”
“But we haven’t heard of any in decades,” my mom says, casting a worried glance my way.
“I know.” That’s all my father says.
My heart is racing. “Why would they target Evie?”
“I don’t know,” my father says. “But she needs to be under your protection and when you can’t be there, somebody else’s. If that’s truly who they are, then she’s in grave danger.”
My heart races when I remember her words, and a curse forms on the tip of my tongue. “They said they wanted to take her to their boss.”
My father’s eyes harden. “Get her now.”
I’m out the door before he can even finish what he’s saying with Slate on my heels. I race to my truck, phone already pressed to my ear. I throw it down on the console when she doesn’t answer and peel out of the driveway. “Can you dial her number and put it on speaker for me? Evie’s in my favorites.” He tries, but when it goes to voicemail, I try not to think the worst. Slate doesn’t say a word as we fly back to campus. I throw the truck in park and jump out. “I’ll keep watch outside,” Slate calls out. I nod as I jog towards the dorm, being careful to keep my pace what it should be for a human. Two girls stop me as soon as I head inside, but I brush past them. I take the stairs two at atime and walk as quickly down the hall as I dare. When I get to her room, I knock. “Evie, it’s Zane.”Nothing.I try the handle; it’s locked. I knock again, louder this time. “Evie.” When she still doesn’t answer, I snap. One swift kick breaks the lock, and her door crashes into the wall. I stride into the room, ready to take on any threat.
“Zane?” My eyes snap to Evie. Her wide eyes meet mine, and it’s the fear in her eyes that undoes me. I cross the room in two strides and reach out for her but freeze when she jerks back. My hand drops to my side. “What are you doing?” I gain enough control to finally take in the details I missed when I barged in. Her eyes have a heavy look, the look of someone who just woke up. Add to that her tangled hair and wrinkled shirt, and I realize she was asleep.
“You didn’t answer when I called your phone, and you didn’t answer when I knocked on your door.”
She points to the earbuds on her lap. “I had earbuds in, and my phone was on do not disturb.”
I frown and take in what she’s telling me and then run my hand over my head. I blow out a breath. “I might have overreacted.”
“Might have?” she asks, pointing to the door.
I wince. “I’ll fix it.”
She pushes back the blanket she was covered up with and stands up. My eyes drop to her legs that are exposed by the short shorts she’s wearing. I force my gaze back up to her eyes. Her face has a light flush on it. “I was sleeping,” she reminds me.
“Yeah. I’m sorry, Evie.”
She takes compassion on me. “It’s okay. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“We need to talk.”
Her gaze meets mine, and she sighs. “It’s okay, Zane. I get it. No worries.”
I stare down at her in confusion. My mind goes a little hazy at the sleepy image she’s giving me, and it’s really hard to stay focused when she looks this soft and vulnerable and so incredibly enticing. I swallow and meet her eyes. “What are you talking about?” I ask gently.
“If you’re going to break up with me, just do it. It’s fine.”
I watch as she visibly steels herself against what I’m going to say. “What? Evie, no.” I run a hand over my head again.I’ve made a mess of everything.She stares up at me with no emotion on her face, and I hate that. I hate that she’s bracing herself for me to tell her I’m not interested in her anymore, when it’s the furthest thing from the truth. My heart aches at the hurt she carries around with her. “No, Sweetheart,” the endearment slips out. “That’s not it at all.”
Confused eyes meet mine. “Then what is it?”
I study her face a moment, wondering how she’ll take this next part. “I want you to leave this place and come live with me and the other guys in our house.”
Her eyes widen. “What?”
