Trapped (Bullied Book 4) (Bullied Series) Vera Hollins (best large ereader txt) 📖

Why? burned on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t ask.

“Good to know that because I wouldn’t want it any other way,” I said as I looked at the lines on the road that passed quickly. I hoped my words didn’t sound as fake to him as they did to me, which was ridiculous. He’s your bully, Jess. Don’t forget that. Just a bully.

Another song by Infected Mushroom, a remix of “Demons of Pain”, started playing, and its heavy bass hammered nails into my head. I sneaked a glance at Blake, who looked pensive. I fiddled with my thumbs, the bass of the song getting even stronger.

“It’s obvious why this song is called ‘Demons of Pain’,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because its beat gives me pain.” I massaged my temples. “I’m getting a headache from it.”

He lowered the volume and glanced at me, the corner of his lips quirking up. “Let me guess—you’re all for sweet, lovey-dovey songs.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

His smile grew bigger. “You wear pink most of the time. You also wear flower hair accessories and bracelets.” I shouldn’t have been surprised that he remembered all these details, but I was. “You’re for sweet things to the bone.”

My brows rose. He was right. I was all for sweet things.

“I can’t imagine you listening to this kind of music. Not after I heard you play your song,” he added, and I inhaled sharply. I wanted to remove that embarrassing memory from my mind, but it stood its ground.

I hunched in my seat. “I get it…my song was too sugary.”

He frowned. “I never said that.”

I didn’t respond, waiting for him to say more, burning with curiosity to hear his opinion about it…but he didn’t say anything.

“Okay.” That’s all I said, when I actually wanted to ask what he thought about it.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I liked it,” he said, barely audibly.

I grew motionless. Did he say he liked it?

Fishing for a direct answer, I asked, “You liked what?”

“You know what.”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do, but you want me to say it.” He glanced at me, and the raw look in his eyes pulled me in. “Your song. I liked your song. And…I liked your voice.”

My breath caught in my chest. “You’re just saying that to make me feel better about it,” I said, refusing to accept the possibility that he really liked it, because this meant a lot to me, and it scared me.

His forehead wrinkled. “You really like to put yourself down. Don’t tell me you’ve never realized how amazing your voice is.”

My lips curved into a big smile. I wanted to pinch myself so I could prove this was real. Blake Jones had just complimented my voice. He actually liked it.

My emotions bubbled up inside me. Had Hayden told him about my dream to become a singer? Was he even aware of how much his praise—anyone’s praise—meant to me? Did he know how afraid I was of performing in front of others, to the point of not following my dreams?

“You really think so?”

He glanced at me and smiled. Like an actual, real smile. “Yeah.”

My smile widened. “Thank you.” He only smirked at that, and I fidgeted with the hem of my jacket. “I guess you don’t listen to my kind of music.”

“No.”

“I thought so.”

“But I would give your songs a chance.”

My heart leapt. “And why’s that?” I couldn’t resist asking.

“Because they’re yours, obviously.”

Okay. I had to pinch myself.

I pinched my upper arm. “Ouch.”

He snorted. “Why did you do that?”

“Just making sure I really heard you say that.”

He burst into chuckles, but then, as if he’d caught himself doing something he wasn’t supposed to, he grew serious. He shook his head at me. “You’re weird.”

We were near Enfield, which meant this ride would end soon. I wished it could last a bit longer. I thought about the moments of tenderness he’d displayed this evening and the last few days, and my body warmed. He was finally letting me see his other side, finally treating me like something more than a bug to squash.

I had so many questions on my mind. We weren’t friends. We couldn’t be lovers. But we weren’t the same old enemies. So what were we?

I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn’t realize Blake was slowing down. He went off the road and parked his car next to it, right in the middle of nowhere. The music and all sounds died when he shut off the engine. His car lights were our only source of light.

“What are you doing? Why did you stop?”

He unbuckled his seat belt. “Come out for a sec.”

“But why—”

“Just come.” He got out and closed the door.

I looked around with a frown. It was so dark I couldn’t make out anything in the shadows that converged all over. There were no cars passing. I licked my lips. What was he doing?

Reluctantly, I removed my seat belt and stepped outside, hit by a gust of cold air. He leaned against the hood of his car and tilted his head back to look at the starry sky.

My eyes caught on the sign standing a few feet away, which I recognized from the local news that covered tourist attractions near Enfield. It read: Enfield’s Sunflower Field. Welcome. I couldn’t see that far, but I didn’t need to in order to know the sunflower field was vacant at this time of year.

“You do know this is just like all those horror movies, right? You driving me to nowhere and acting all mysterious?” I said.

“If this was anything like horror movies, you’d already be dead.”

“Ha ha. That’s not funny.”

He shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to be.”

“Yes, I noticed humor isn’t your strong suit.”

“Says the humor expert.”

“At least I don’t wear a scowl all the time.”

A huge smile broke out on his face, and I stilled, realizing we were going back and forth like old friends.

I crossed my arms over my chest and went to the edge of the field. Now that my