Page 47 of Devious Knight
Quickly I text Michael back: Sure, we can reschedule. Have a great night.
He doesn’t reply. I didn’t expect him to.
It’s five. Michael and I were supposed to meet at eight. Because I knew the date wouldn’t be happening I didn’t even bother to pick out a dress and I ate already while I was out with Mackenzie.
Part of me is angry that Kade struck again, but the other part of me that’s still stunned from his behavior this morning has overpowered everything else.
His behavior was bizarre. I can’t wrap my head around it. He’s gone from one extreme to another with no in-between.
I don’t know what to expect from him next, and I don’t know what to do. I tried to defend myself earlier. I tried to do it the other night, too, when he and his friends ambushed me. But when I’m around him it’s clear that I’m out of my depth. I feel like a mouse trying to fight the lion.
And what the hell happened to me today?
Was I seriously going to let him kiss me?
It bothers me that I just slipped into my old self and never thought to fight back when it mattered.
It’s clear that I’m still attracted to Kade. Still affected by him. And what’s worse is I can’t forget all those things he said to me.
He said I belonged to him. There was no mistaking the sexual connotation behind those words but I also felt the threat clinging to every word he spoke.
You can’t trust someone like that. Kade is too volatile and unstable. The more I know about him, the more I realize that I need to be careful.
The sudden ring of my phone makes me jump.
Shit. I’m so paranoid, next I’ll be scared of my own shadow.
It’s my father. Seeing his name flash on the screen brings a smile to my face and I answer the phone.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hello, Printsessa. Hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”
“Not at all.”
I move to the living room and sink into the sofa, pressing the phone to my ear.
“I just wanted to wish you luck for tomorrow. I’m sure the Lord Chancellor will approve everything and you’ll be fine.”
Bless my father’s heart. He sounds like he’s doing his best to sound cheerful and supportive but I know he doesn’t want me to go away to Cambridge.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Your sculpture looked amazing.” There’s a smile in his voice. I sent him a picture of it this morning before I went to the stadium. “Your mother would have been proud.”
“Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.”
“You know it’s the truth. While I have mixed emotions about you going to England, I know you’re going to ace it. I’ve arranged time off so I can take you over there.”
Hope sparks my heart. “Really? You’ll come with me?”
“Yes, baby girl. I’ll stay out there for two weeks getting you set up. I’ll make sure you’re okay.”
“I would love that. I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be. You’re going to be just fine.”
We talk some more about what’s going on with him. He cracks his usual jokes about the women at his office who keep asking him out. Even though I laugh, I always note that he never agrees to go on a date.