Free The Liberator (A Dante Walker Novel) (Entangled Teen) by Victoria Scott Page B

quirky beauty.
    I’m about to reassure her that my eyes are only for her when a voice rings in the background—Annabelle, I think. “Did you tell him how you almost killed yourself?”
    I leap to my feet. “What’s she talking about?”
    “Nothing,” Charlie responds, her mouth too close to the receiver. “At the party we were seeing who could hold our breath the longest underwater. And guess what? Guess what happened?”
    “You won?” I say. I can picture her smiling face in my mind, so it’s hard for me to be upset. But I don’t like the idea of Charlie playing let’s-almost-drown-ourselves while intoxicated. And what the hell were they even doing swimming in December?
    “Yep,” she says. “And he said I couldn’t.”
    I swear on all that is red and bacon-y, if she says Max is the one who challenged her, I’ll tear out his scrotum. “Who said you couldn’t?”
    “This guy, my new neighbor. The party was at his house.”
    My blood freezes in my veins. “Charlie, what’s this dude’s name?”
    She pauses on the other end of the line, and I’m just about to start throwing things again. But I remember Man Hands knocked on my door and asked me to be quiet, so I don’t.
    “His name is Salem.”
    The desk chair flies into the wall with a loud clatter. So much for restraint. I glance at the door and expect to hear the beefy woman knocking again, but the sound doesn’t come.
    “Charlie, that guy’s brother was the one who was creeping outside your window,” I say as evenly as I can.
    “Yeah, Easton.” She announces this like we’re discussing Tupperware. “Look, Salem told me all about your run-in. He said to tell you he was really sorry about what happened. He kept asking me where you were. Said he wished you could’ve been there so he could show you his brother is a good person.” Charlie grows quiet, and I can tell she’s biting her nails. “They’re really cool, Dante. When you get back here, I bet the three of you will be friends.”
    “I don’t want you anywhere near those guys,” I say through clenched teeth. It’s all I can manage, because now I’m remembering the way Salem looked at me with challenge in his eyes. And now he’s getting Charlie drunk and telling her to hold her breath underwater and playing Nice Guy. Well, I’m calling him on what he is—a sleazer.
    “Okay, first, they really are nice people.” Charlie’s voice gets louder. “And third, I do what I want.”
    I don’t tell her that she actually only named two things, not three. And I don’t jump on a plane to Alabama and tie her to the bed like I’d like to (for numerous reasons). Instead, I squeeze my eyes shut and say, “I know. It’s just those guys—”
    “Those guys were hanging out with Max all night. He liked them. He said so.”
    This actually does cause me to hesitate. Because I trust Max, I really do. And if he was around those dudes and didn’t sense anything off about them, then maybe I actually am looking for danger in the wrong places. Maybe I need to concentrate on the collector who was in my room tonight instead of the fact that two guys invited Charlie to a party.
    One of which I caught staring up at her window.
    Okay, okay . I hold my hand up like I’m negotiating with myself. I’m letting this go .
    “You look so hot,” Annabelle slurs in the background. “Can’t believe you actually wore it.”
    It’s the freaking Fourth of July in my head right now, explosions detonating left and right. But I bite my lip and remain calm. “You get a new outfit or something?”
    “He can hear everything you’re saying,” Charlie tells Annabelle.
    “Good. Everything I say is magical,” Annabelle responds. “Can he hear me when I say, ‘Screw Bobby!’?”
    Charlie laughs before returning to our conversation. I can almost taste blood by the time she answers me. “Bobby was kissing another girl tonight. He and Anna are over.” Her voice goes from sad to excited in the space of a