Run Bad Boy Run

Chapter 14

Hayden doesn't flinch. He doesn't do anything. I don't even think he's breathing. His glassy, metallic eyes pin me in place almost like he's trying to get inside of my head—what do you know, his eyes ask—and with every second that passes, my skin grows hotter and more uncomfortable the closer he gets.

I don't know anything, really. All I know is that I have something that doesn't belong to me and that my life is two steps away into either turning into 1) an action movie or 2) a murder mystery narrative on Dateline NBC.

And then, just like that, Hayden Cross' harsh stare is gone. His body loosens. The world starts moving around us again, rich in colors and sounds. Hayden shakes his head, grinning. "What are you talking about?"

"The memory stick."

I can smell the alcohol on his breath when he leans forward, moving so close that I can see small flecks of light blue in his grey eyes. "What have I told you about messing with the photo nerds?"

Even when I take a step back, he's still towering over me, and I have to tilt my head to the side to get a good look at him. "This is serious."

His eyes drop to my mouth.

"Just give me the memory stick," he insists, hands attaching to my hips, and making me jolt. Any other time, I might have pushed his hands off of me. I might have screamed at him and threw something at his big head. But the vibrations of my phone in my pocket keep me grounded to one spot. He has to understand what's going on here. He has to know that those guys in the parking lot were probably just the beginning.

Flashes of light illuminate the smoke curling from his lips bright red and then dark, dark blue to smudge away the shadows elongating on his cheeks when he tilts his head to the side. Every second that passes, more smoke slithers from his lips down my throat, but I continue to stare him down.

"Where is it? Just give it to me, I'll give it back."

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I respond, voice as tense as my body.

Listen! Listen, you idiot!

"So where's your date?"

Dammit, Hayden!

Oh, no. He is not changing the damn subject. Hell no.

"He's here," I hiss. "But this is more important than—"

"Are you sure, Em? Why do I have a feeling you're lying?" Hayden sneers.

Anger and frustration boil my blood. "Why do you care anyway, Cross?"

"Why do you think I care?" He snaps.

"Because you just fucking asked about it!"

He narrows his eyes. "No I didn't."

A sharp throbbing sensation pounds behind my eyes. "You've got to be kidding me right now—"

His lips unwind from the snarl back into his usual, irritating smirk. "Well, this was fun but I gotta go... somewhere else."

Anxiety is a spike through my chest. As I grab for Hayden, my hands slipping down the surface of his bare shoulders, he steps out of my reach. "Oh, no you don't!"

"Have fun at the party, Emmy," he grins. No! No!

People move in to fill the growing distance between us. I push through the mosh pit of people grinding against each other, a few of them making out like wild animals, toward Hayden.

"Hayden! Hayden!"

His eyes stay locked with mine until all I see is twin pools of glowing, liquid mercury. And then he's gone.