Chapter 58

After leaving Yvaine's party, Rhys and Catherine didn't say a word. Neither of them had the energy to pretend. The whole night had been one long marathon of humiliation, and they were both too pissed to bother hiding it. At the curb, Rhys pulled his coat tighter and grunted, "Wait here. I'll get the car." "Fine," Catherine muttered. He'd barely turned the corner when some guy jumped out of the flowerbed, nearly scaring Catherine to death. "Cathy!" the boy hissed. He couldn't have been older than twenty, and he was wearing a rent-a-cop uniform two sizes too big. She recognized him instantly and dragged him right back behind the bushes by the scruff of his sleeve. Her nails dug into his arm. "Are you insane?" she hissed, wild-eyed. "I told you not to contact me! How the hell did you even find me? If anyone sees us—Jesus, I'm screwed." He shook her off and flicked a half-smoked cigarette onto the ground. "Couldn't reach you on the phone," he said with a shrug. "Had to come find you myself