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Back Fractured Save as PDF
Chapters (42)
  1. TITLE PAGE
  2. COPYRIGHT PAGE
  3. DEDICATION PAGE
  4. CONTENTS
  5. ONE
  6. TWO
  7. THREE
  8. FOUR
  9. FIVE
  10. SIX
  11. SEVEN
  12. EIGHT
  13. NINE
  14. TEN
  15. ELEVEN
  16. TWELVE
  17. THIRTEEN
  18. FOURTEEN
  19. FIFTEEN
  20. SIXTEEN
  21. SEVENTEEN
  22. EIGHTEEN
  23. NINETEEN
  24. TWENTY
  25. TWENTY-ONE
  26. TWENTY-TWO
  27. TWENTY-THREE
  28. TWENTY-FOUR
  29. TWENTY-FIVE
  30. TWENTY-SIX
  31. TWENTY-SEVEN
  32. TWENTY-EIGHT
  33. TWENTY-NINE
  34. THIRTY
  35. THIRTY-ONE
  36. THIRTY-TWO
  37. THIRTY-THREE
  38. THIRTY-FOUR
  39. THIRTY-FIVE
  40. THIRTY-SIX
  41. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  42. ABOUT THE AUTHOR

He drove us to the mall, where we stuffed ourselves with burgers and fries. It turned out he was going to URI, too, and so we chatted about majors and classes and baseball and photography. We didn’t talk about Aden or Nadia. We didn’t talk about Malachi. I didn’t have to think about death or killing or saving the world.

It felt awesome.

He drove us to the movie theater, and we chose a comedy. I was thankful he didn’t want to watch the latest zombies-taking-over-the-world thriller, which hit a little too close to home. He insisted on paying for our tickets and bought us a bucket of popcorn. I laughed as he handed it to me. “You’re not still hungry, are you?”

He grinned. “Are you kidding? I’m always hungry. I also eat when I’m nervous.”

“Are you nervous?”

He gave me a look that said I should be able to figure it out. “Come on. I love the previews.”

We were the first people in the theater and had our pick of seats. We settled in, my stomach knotting. I was alone. In the dark. With a guy who was not Malachi.

I grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it in my mouth.

Ian chuckled. “Do you eat when you’re nervous, too?” he whispered, his eyes full of mischief.

People trickled steadily into the theater, which cut the tension a little. We even recognized a few of them. “I hope you’re ready for the gossip on Facebook,” I muttered, watching Caroline from my lit class, tap-tap-tapping away on her phone as she shot us curious glances every few seconds.

“Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?” he asked, slouching down and nudging me with his shoulder. “Should we have worn disguises?”

I nudged him back. “That might have been smart.” I couldn’t help but lean in. His smile was so inviting. His face was only a few inches from mine. His green eyes were bright, even in the semidark of the theater. His breath smelled like popcorn.

And incense.

TWENTY

TWENTY

I JERKED BACK. HIS eyes grew wide as he registered the look on my face. “What’s wrong, Lela?”

The lights dimmed and thunderous music filled the theater as the previews started. I leaned forward and inhaled, and he stayed still for me, his expression frozen in a lopsided smile. But I’d been with him all evening, and the scent wasn’t coming from him. Which meant it was someone else inside this theater, maybe many someone elses. My fingers drifted toward my waist, where I kept my knife. Shit. I couldn’t take it to school with me, and I hadn’t gone home before the baseball game. I bowed my head, near enough that his hair brushed my cheek, and whispered in his ear, “Do you recognize that smell?”