Free The Predator by Chris Taylor Page B

Hopefully, they’d prove more successful than his experience with this little bitch.
    Turning away, he jammed his fists into the pockets of his jacket and strode toward the car park.
    * * *
    Cassie looked up as a man with a red baseball cap pulled low over his eyes walked away in the direction of the car park. She couldn’t tell how old he was, but even from this distance, it was obvious he wasn’t a teenager. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes and only a few tufts of brown hair escaped the confines of his cap and tickled the back of his neck.
    His clothes spoke of money, but had been put together in a rather haphazard way. His denim jeans were wrinkled and the light fabric of his black jacket was no match for the fall crispness that permeated the early morning air.
    She wondered who he was. Definitely not Justin, but she hadn’t seen him here before. He was probably an uncle of one of the girls, perhaps visiting from the country. Sometimes her father’s brothers came down to Sydney from the north coast and occasionally, they’d come and watch her play.
    “Cassie!”
    She was jolted out of her musings when the ball came hurtling her way. Snatching it out of the air, she threw it to a team mate and watched as it made its way to the Goal Shooter. She waited, tense and expectant, as the girl prepared for the shot.
    The ball bounced once, twice upon the steel rim and then dropped out over the line. The whistle blew. Cassie’s shoulders slumped. It was a shitty start to a shitty day.
    * * *
    A couple of hours later, weighed down by hurt and disappointment, Cassie dragged her netball kit up the stairs. On the one hand, she was glad Justin hadn’t showed. The stand-in Goal Attack had been hopeless and they’d been soundly defeated. But Justin had told her he would come. He’d told her he’d wanted to meet her and say hi. He’d told her he’d wanted to watch her play.
    He’d done none of those things and she was beginning to wish she hadn’t said anything to her girlfriends. They’d quiz her mercilessly when she got to school on Monday. In fact, her best friend Madeleine would probably text her any minute wanting to know how things had gone.
    She felt like an idiot. She should have known better than to think a boy as hot as Justin would be interested in her. Even some of the girls in Grade Nine and Ten couldn’t get their boyfriends to watch a netball game. And he was a boy she’d only just met. Not even met, if you didn’t count the Internet.
    Closing the door to her bedroom behind her, Cassie dropped her bag on the floor and flopped onto her bed. She could almost hear her mother scolding her for lying on her bedspread with her Nikes on, but right at that moment, she didn’t care.
    She’d never been so humiliated. She was mad at herself, more than him. She was the fool who’d thought he actually meant it when he’d called her beautiful.
    She picked up the pretty pink-and-white cushion that decorated her bed and squeezed it hard to her chest. It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t he have been different? Why couldn’t he have been there, smiling and cheering for her and making her heart sing?
    She tensed at the gentle knock on her door.
    “Cassie, I heard you come in. Are you all right?”
    Her mother’s soft voice, full of concern almost brought tears to her eyes, but she bit her lip against the surge of emotion. She wasn’t a baby any longer and it was high time she stopped acting like one. How was she ever going to capture the interest of a boy like Justin if she blubbered over every little disappointment like a baby?
    The knock came again and she knew if she didn’t say something, her mother would come in.
    “I’m fine, Mom,” she managed. “Just tired from netball. It was a hard game.”
    “Can I come in?” The request was voiced softly, without demand and Cassie ignored the guilt that assailed her. She’d always tried to be honest with her parents, just like they’d taught her to