Eighteen

I pressed my ear to the cold metal door of the theater. I couldn’t hear a thing. My heart clenched when it looked like the cardboard was gone, then I realized it had simply slid down. I cracked the door a tiny sliver, and when I didn’t see anyone in the hall, I yanked it open and slipped inside.

Someone reached out and clutched my upper arm as soon as my foot hit the carpet. I froze.

“What were you doing out there?”

The guy who held me had dark curly hair and looked like one of those Greek statues we studied in art history. He also looked pissed.

I forced out a stilted laugh. “Funny thing. I had to pee so bad that I wasn’t paying attention and I pushed open this door instead of the bathroom.” I smacked my forehead like I couldn’t believe what an idiot I was.

His glance slid over to the giant orange and yellow sign in the center of the door that declared EMERGENCY EXIT ONLY.

The guy’s dark blue eyes held me in place as firmly as his hand. His fingers dug into the flesh of my upper arms. He was going to leave bruises. “If you were just going to the bathroom, why did you prop the door open?”

Oh shit. I was so busted. “I have a ticket,” I mumbled. “I’m not sneaking in or anything.” Did movie theaters call the cops for this kind of thing? How the hell was I going to explain what I was doing? That was when I noticed he wasn’t wearing a uniform.

I pulled back on my arm trying to free myself. “Do you even work here?”

He ignored my question. “You’re Skye Thorn.”

I blinked. My tongue seemed to have swollen, filling my mouth and making talking impossible.

He knew my name.

I made myself focus and look at him more carefully. I’d seen him before. My mind scrambled to remember why I knew him. Then it hit me. He was Paige’s on-again, off-again boyfriend, Ryan Denton. I’d seen his picture on the news. He was a couple years older than us, but I couldn’t remember if he had graduated or dropped out.

Great. Just my luck that Paige’s ex-boyfriend was some kind of Hardy Boy wannabe.

I tucked some of my hair behind my ear, trying to look casual. “The cops told me about you. The last thing you need is more trouble. You shouldn’t be following anyone—that’s harassment.”

Ryan blinked quickly. “What did they tell you about me?”

I shrugged. “Not much.” I didn’t tell him that the only reason I knew his name at all was that Paige’s dad asked the police about him when I was at his house.

His jaw was tight. “They want to blame me for this.”

“Why?”

He laughed, but it was bitter and brittle. “Why not? Isn’t it always the boyfriend? We have a fight, I lose my temper, and before you know it, there’s a missing girl. I’ve got a record and no alibi for the afternoon she dropped off the planet. For cops I might as well have a neon sign over my head saying guilty.” He rubbed his hands on his jeans.

Was this part of Paige’s plan? Maybe she thought if she went missing, her boyfriend would come running back to her—like some kind of tacky romance. Or maybe Paige wanted the police to question him. If he was the one who broke up with her, she struck me as the kind who might like to get a sweet bite of revenge. I’d thought this was just about her dad, but there was no guarantee she’d told me the whole truth.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think the police really think you’re guilty. They told me they thought it was too well planned for someone who wasn’t a pro.”

“They have a funny way of thinking I’m innocent, then. The cops have searched my car and my place in Cherry Fields, twice.” His face was pale with dark circles under his eyes, and despite his tough guy act and tattoos, he looked shaken.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go.” I felt bad, but he wasn’t my problem. I had plenty of my own.

He seized ahold of my arm again, his anger returning. “I didn’t have anything to do with Paige going missing. Which means something else happened to her, and I’m going to figure it out before I end up taking the blame for all of this.”

“You can do whatever you feel like.” I tried to yank my arm back, but he didn’t let go. “What the hell do you want from me?”

“I don’t believe in any of that psychic stuff, which means if you knew where to find Paige’s car, you know something, and I want to know what that is. I went to your place and followed you out here. Who goes to a movie by themselves and then doesn’t even stay to watch it? I want to know why you’re sneaking out of this theater.”

“I needed some fresh air.” I tossed my head, flipping my hair over a shoulder. I hoped to sound tough, but my voice cracked.

He stepped closer, his nostrils flaring. “Bullshit. Tell me what’s going on. Did Paige put you up to this?”

“Hey!” a voice called out. Ryan and I both spun to see a thin, pimply kid wearing the orange and navy polyester uniform of the theater workers. “Is everything okay?” He was shaking slightly. “Is that guy bothering you?” His hands hovered over his hips as if he were an Old West gunslinger ready to do battle for my honor. A nervous, ill-prepared gunslinger. “You need me to call a manager?”

Ryan took a step away from me. “It’s fine. I was just leaving.” He pushed open the emergency door and looked back. “This isn’t over,” he promised me. Then he slid out into the night.