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CHAPTER TWELVE In the Pale Moonlight
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A SOCKET OF dread opened in Rhiannon's stomach as she sat in the car, watching the trees whirl by. She ran her fingers through Nyx's fur to calm herself.
There were many reasons to be suspicious of this situation. She morbidly remembered the last time she trusted a boy and went somewhere she'd never been before. Now, Steve was driving her to an unfamiliar house, where she was expected to follow him into a storm cellar, and he had a weapon sitting around in his trunk for god knows how long.
This reminded her of things she didn't want to be reminded of.
But she comforted herself with this: things were different now. She was more formidable. Besides, this was Steve she was talking about, the same Steve that lost a fight to Jonathan last year. Saying 'he wouldn't hurt a fly' didn't feel right. He could probably get into a fight with a fly, and the fly would win. There was no need for her fear.
"So..." Dustin poked his head between the gap in the front seats. "Are you like his girlfriend or something?"
Rhiannon probed her tongue against her cheek. "I guess you could say I'm like his girlfriend, yeah."
The boy's eyes flickered between them. "You're not fully his girlfriend?"
Steve made a face. "Why are you asking about this?"
"I'm just curious," Dustin said with a shrug.
"Yeah, well— anybody ever tell you being curious kills cats?" Steve muttered. He quickly grimaced when he realized his word choice, glancing at the animal curled on Rhiannon's lap. "Sorry, Nyx."
"I don't think that's how the saying goes?" Rhiannon fumbled with the radio dials, hoping to play some music over the radioactive awkwardness simmering in the air. "Besides, none of this matters. We're here for Dart."
