The Dead Boyfriend Read Online Free PDF Page B

to win Blade?
    That didn’t make any sense at all.
    I pictured her dark-circled eyes burning into mine, as if trying to penetrate, to invade my brain. And again, I heard the creepy click of her long black-and-white fingernails on the counter glass.
    My head was swimming with these crazy, impossible thoughts. I debated whether or not to tell Blade about Deena, about how she kept asking about him, asking if he ever talked about her.
    Did he know her before I met him? He said he didn’t. I should believe what he told me. He said he’d never heard of the Fear family.
    Blade hadn’t lived in Shadyside for long, but that was a little hard to believe. I think when people move here, they are told immediately to steer clear of the Fears and Fear Street.
    I always thought it was all superstition and made-up stories about them. But with Deena around, I was no longer so sure.
    With all these thoughts making my brain whir, I walked past my car. I stopped and tried to remember where I’d parked. Level C. And the sign in front of me told me I had walked all the way to D.
    Get a grip, Caitlyn.
    I turned and started to walk back, my sticky shoes thwacking on the concrete. I guess the sound kept me from hearing the footsteps behind me.
    I didn’t realize I was being followed until the man was only a few feet behind me. I heard the rapid scrape of shoes and wheezing breath.
    I didn’t have a chance to run. I didn’t even have a chance to be scared. Until he grabbed me roughly and spun me around to face him.
    I stared into the red eyes of a thick-stubbled face, angry, half-hidden behind the hood of a dark hoodie. I’d never seen him before.
    He squeezed my shoulders and shook me hard, the red eyes glowing, his jaw clenched.
    â€œLet me go!” I screamed. My voice rang loudly off the concrete parking garage walls. I whipped my head around. “Help me! Somebody!”
    But the hooded man and I were alone.
    â€œGive me your wallet. I can hurt you.” His voice was a harsh rasp from deep in his throat. He squeezed my arms so hard, pain shot up and down my whole body.
    I struggled to breathe. “Let go,” I choked out in a frantic whisper. “Let me go. Please…”

 
    9.
    He was wheezing now, spit rolling over his lips.
    â€œI can hurt you,” he repeated. “Your wallet. Hurry.”
    I forced myself to breathe. My heart was thudding so hard, my chest ached. “Okay,” I choked out.
    Still holding my arms, he lowered his head, brought it close to mine, so close I could smell his sour breath.
    I knew this was my chance, Diary.
    I’m not the kind of girl to give in easily, to surrender without a fight. I knew this was the moment those self-defense classes I took last year would be useful.
    I arched back a few inches, as if trying to pull away from him. Then I brought my right leg up. I snapped it up hard and fast. He uttered a startled gurgling sound as my knee smashed the middle of his face.
    I heard a sick crack . The sound of his nose breaking.
    His hands slid off my arms. He grabbed his face, as bright red blood began to spurt from his nose. With an animal howl of pain, he dropped to his knees. He covered his face with both hands. Blood flowed through his fingers, down the front of his hoodie. He howled again.
    I stood there for a long moment, gasping for breath, enjoying my victory, my heart thudding in my chest … thudding so hard I could feel every throb of blood.
    I watched him for a second or two. Then I forced my legs to move. I took off, my sneakers pounding the concrete, ran to my car, and drove away.
    *   *   *
    â€œWow. Is it heavy? Can I hold it?” Julie asked.
    â€œThe handle is pretty awesome,” Miranda said. “How do you open it?”
    â€œThis button here,” I said, raising it to her face. “You press it with your thumb and the blade slides open.” I waved it around. “It’s a