Rage Read Free Page B

but if you make them screw up the shot, or if you organize the defense well enough that they can't take a shot at all, you've done your job. Think outside of the goal box."
    Missy grinned at the lame joke because she knew Bella expected it, and then she looked once more toward the locker room. The woman in black was gone—if she'd ever been there at all.
    ***
    Missy took her time in the locker room, first stripping off the gloves and cleats and soccer socks and shin guards, then going into the bathroom to change her clothes. Unlike the others, she wasn't in a rush to get home—she'd taken care of her homework during her study period, and despite what Erica thought, she wasn't going to Kevin's stupid party, where stupid Adam and his stupid friends would definitely be.
    Looking hot under all the black.
    She squeezed her nails into her palms, squeezed until her hands wept. The last thing she wanted to be thinking about was Adam, but there she was, alone in the girls' locker room, remembering what it was like for his hands to travel over her body, the feeling of his mouth on hers ... remembering his husky declarations of love even as he fumbled with her zipper.
    Missy closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath, then shoved the memory down down down into the glass jar. Only after she'd sealed the lid again did she open her eyes. If she tried, she could pretend the tears were just sweat.
    Maybe she should take out her lockbox tonight.
    No,
she thought, and
No
again. Aloud she whispered, "I don't need the blade."
    A kiss of wind, like frost on the nape of her neck.
    "I don't," she said again, insistent. Unclenching her fingers, she watched the half-moon imprints fill with blood.
Tiny mouths,
she thought, staring at the maroon slices.
Tiny mouths waiting to be fed
...
    Her stomach growled, like a warning, and she realized she was hungry. Starving.
    Missy grabbed her water bottle and drained it. Shaking out the last drops into her mouth, she berated herself for not having at least a granola bar with her. When she got home, she was going to raid the fridge, and never mind that dinner would be in an hour.
    A hint of shadow caught her eye, darker than dark, over by the back wall. It almost looked like the outline of a person, a silhouette in a spill of black ink. Missy frowned as she stared at the shadow, thinking how odd the lighting was and that of course she was alone, she'd said her goodbyes to everyone else...
    And then her phone vibrated, announcing a text message. Missy tore her gaze from the dark spot and pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She glanced at the screen.
    Adam.
    She sat down hard on the bench.
Why?
she thought, despairing. She knew she should delete it without reading it, knew it would be the textbook definition of
mistake
if she read his message.
    Her lips tingled as she remembered the feeling of his mouth on hers, and she suddenly hungered for him, missed him so completely that it was a physical ache. She checked the message.
CU @ KEVS 2NITE?
    The world whited out in a blinding moment of utter panic. Her heart slammed in her chest, galloping, rocketing now, threatening to go nuclear. Sweat popped on her brow, and her stomach knotted viciously.
    ...
no no no no no
...
    Her blade. She needed her blade. She needed to bleed out the badness, needed the blood to breathe again.
    Her hands shook, and the phone slipped between her numb fingers. It hit the bare floor, clattering. The sound snapped Missy out of her anxiety attack. She scooped up her phone and checked to make sure it still worked. Damn it, if Adam made her break her phone, she'd kill him.
    She almost heard Bella's voice reprimanding her:
Don't blame the defense if you miss a block and the other team gets the goal.
    Missy gritted her teeth. She'd been the one who'd dropped the phone. Not Adam. Luckily, the phone still worked, so she didn't have to worry about where to place the blame. Blood pounded in her ears as she reread Adam's text. Before she could