Free Kiss Me If You Dare by Nicole Young Page B

daughter. Then there were the members of Team B. Celia would never have snooped, but Koby or Portia? I wouldn’t put it past them.
    My foot tapped uncontrollably. And there was whoever had been in the locker room with me today.
    But how could anyone know who I was? Unless they put two and two together regarding Denton’s only-child status. Or . . .
    I flipped through my notebook, looking for the page I’d used to sign my new name. If someone had come across my practice sheet and been vicious enough to read Patricia Louise Amble through my scribbles . . . How low could you go?
    The page wasn’t there. A line of paper scraps where it had been ripped out was all that remained.
    That devious, black-hearted, two-faced, backstabbing Portia. It must have been her. She’d had plenty of time to do the deed this morning before Koby and Celia arrived, knowing I wouldn’t suspect a thing until I came across her cute little HELLO PATRICIA AMBLE note.
    She’d had it out for me from the beginning. The question was, what did I plan to do about it? I could be just as devious, black-hearted, two-faced, and backstabbing as her.
    But did I want to be?
    Around me, students shuffled to get their notes put away and head to their next class. I gave a disgusted sigh, realizing I’d stewed through the rest of the lecture.
    I gathered my items into the tote and walked to Walters Hall. Birds chirped and the sun shone, but the sidewalk in front of me was the only thing on my mind. Feet passed by and I ignored an occasional hello.
    A quick scan of the directory in the lobby provided directions to Professor Braddock’s office. I took the stairs, sprinting up five flights, letting the flow of adrenaline clear my thoughts.
    I knocked on the door and barged in, scaring off a wide-eyed, twenty-something coed.
    Denton folded his hands on the desk in front of him. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for your intrusion.” Dropping my tote, I pulled out my notebook and flipped to the fateful page.
    “Look at this.” I threw the words on his desk and tapped at them with a heavy finger.
    He straightened. “I see.” He studied the page silently. “Any idea who wrote it?”
    “Portia Romero.” I spat the name.
    He stared at the paper. “Are you certain?”
    “Ninety-five percent.”
    He crossed his arms. “If by chance it was someone in the other 5 percent, whom would you suspect?”
    I counted on my fingers. “Ms. Rigg’s daughter, Koby Rider, and whoever was in the locker room today.”
    His eyebrows lifted. “When did you see Jane?”
    “She was at Cliffhouse Monday when I got back from town.”
    “Hmmm.” He handed the notebook back to me. “That’s all,” he said with a little wave of his hand.
    I stared at him, indignant, before stomping out the door. Brad couldn’t have been more wrong about putting me under Denton’s protection. Clearly the man would enjoy having me turn up dead.
    My eyes were blurred with rage as I hit the elevator button. The bell dinged and the doors opened. I hesitated. If I stepped inside, then I’d be back to my habit of stuffing my anger. But if I went back in there and confronted him . . .
    I swung around and burst through the office door. His back was to me.
    “Uh huh,” he said.
    “Hey. Sorry for the intrusion again,” I tried to keep my voice steady, “but I just have to tell you that I don’t feel safe right now. And I feel like you don’t care.”
    His chair turned toward me. He held up a finger. “I don’t have to remind you that her safety is of the utmost importance,” he said into the phone. “Thank you. Goodbye.”
    He hung up the receiver and stared me down. “I’m not going to dance around my office in a panic, if that’s what you expect. I made a phone call that should resolve this situation. You can go about your life without giving that note another thought.” He opened his desk drawer, took out a pen and tablet, and started writing.
    “O-kay. Thanks.” I lingered,