To Whatever End

by Frydman, Lindsey

  “Stop that.” Her voice is soothing, yet sturdy. “You must know you aren’t really to blame for any of that. Think about it, what if the guitar incident was just a stupid, unrelated prank? What did his guitar have to do with you? Why was the focus all on Griffin if he’s not the one to blame? You didn’t do any of those awful things, Quinn.”

  I pace to the window, then back toward my desk. I do this a few more times until I’m nearly dizzy. “None of this was a coincidence.” I aim to keep my voice calm and low enough so Grandma Ruth can’t overhear through the walls. “It’s all connected somehow. I think the guitar incident was more like…like a warning.”

  “A warning for what? There wasn’t a note at that crime scene, was there?”

  “No note.”

  “So what,” she says, “you think someone warned Griffin, but he wasn’t warned of anything. The only real warning was the note on that brick. Now that is a warning. Breaking into his place and cutting his brakes are not pre-warning things to be doing.”

  “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but me having a stalker feels like a logical explanation.”

  “Okay, so say you have a stalker. What have the police said about it?”

  “They’re still looking into it. So far there’s been no real evidence found, and forensics is still analyzing the note. Can’t say I’m feeling very hopeful, though. One cop even said this was probably a string of bad luck and a prank or two mixed in.” I scoff, remembering. “And it’s not like I can get a restraining order on a hypothetical person. What’s there left for me to do?” I’m grasping desperately for something, anything. I keep coming up empty.

  After a slight pause, Olivia says, “You know what you need?”

  “What’s that?”

  “Jack’s help.” Before I can respond, she continues talking quickly. “You’ve had a lot happen to you. Why don’t you take the night off from worrying? Just for a couple hours. You and Jack can talk, and I’m certain that if anyone can help you out now, it’s him. He’s crazy good about finding whatever information he wants to find. Besides, you’ll be safe in a crowded room with your best friend and two hot boys.” The smile is clear in her voice.

  If I could just tell Olivia the whole truth, she’d understand my concern. She’d know these aren’t accidents or coincidences. She’d understand my panic.

  I consider my options. Maybe Jack will be the one to understand, the one to help me solve this. “How good of a hacker is he?” I ask.

  “So good he’ll either end up with a government job or a prison sentence.”

  Despite myself, I snort. “And you’re sure he’s willing to help me? To use his techy ninja magic skills for whatever I need?” Whatever being digging into my life, my family, my past.

  “All you gotta do is say the word.”

  I’ll take all the help I can get. “I’m in.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  After the call with Olivia, I head over to Griffin’s. It takes him only seconds to open the door and wave me inside. He’s smiling until I mention the poetry slam.

  “I don’t really do groups that well,” he says, leaning against the doorframe to his kitchen.

  “Don’t you want to meet people?” I smile, aiming to sound playful. The last thing I want is to annoy him. “You don’t know anyone here but me, right?”

  His lips curve into a wicked grin, and he edges away from the doorframe. “You’re right. I guess you’ve been enough for me, so I didn’t realize I was lacking anything.”

  My heart beats like it’s the end of a fireworks show, blasting until the detonations and colors dissipate. It takes too long to find my words. “Well, I think you could use another person or two. Maybe Jack. He’s a dude. You could use a dude in your life. Sure, I met him only once, but if Olivia loves him, he can’t be that bad.” So long as Jack doesn’t turn out to be an a-hole in disguise.

  Griffin chuckles. “You really want me to go that badly?”

  “I have a hard time saying no to Liv. I might’ve already agreed. I actually get to kill two birds with one stone—I’m going to bring my camera and see if I can get an epic shot before I finish my portfolio for the scholarship. And Jack is willing to look into things for me, since the cops aren’t helping, and you and I have gotten nowhere.”

  One brow rises, and he removes his hands to cross his arms. “What do you need his help for?”

  “He’s got hacking capabilities. Olivia said he’s good at finding things. I figured, why not?”

  “What exactly do you expect to find?” His voice is on the verge of annoyance. I’m confused by it.

  Wait, is he jealous?

  “Well.” I cross my own arms, feeling self-conscious. I immediately drop my hands and try to shake off the unnecessary nerves. I want to tell him there’s no reason to be jealous, but maybe I should use it to my advantage. “Anything that might lead to figuring out who’s doing these awful things. Don’t you want answers, too?”

  Griffin sighs. “Of course I do.” He runs a hand through his hair before letting both arms fall to his sides. “I just don’t want to spend every waking hour thinking about the shit that’s been happening. Do I worry about it? Yeah, sure, but I can’t obsess over it. I did enough obsessing and worrying before I left Arizona. I can’t go through that again. We’ve given the police all the information we know. Your friend’s boyfriend isn’t going to find anything that the cops can’t find.”

  What world is he living in? The police aren’t always able to help; sometimes they don’t even want to. Frustrated, I open my mouth to respond but shut it just as quickly. He could be right—Jack might not be any help, either. But I’m willing to try. I have to try. “You think I’m overreacting?” I finally say.

  “I don’t know, maybe.”

  “Someone told you to stay away from me by throwing a goddamn brick through your window. It’s not an overreaction to be freaked the fuck out.”

  His eyes go wide, like he didn’t expect such a strong response. Then his face softens. He rubs a hand on the back of his neck and sighs. “You’re right, it’s not fair for me to say that. I might’ve lived with thinly veiled threats before, but you haven’t. I’m sorry.”

  Griffin’s confession should make me feel better, but I find myself just as frustrated, scared, and disappointed as I was before. He doesn’t have to take these threats as seriously as I do. He doesn’t have to be terrified, like I am. Isn’t that why Grandma Ruth said I shouldn’t tell him—because who would want to live out the rest of their days knowing their awful end is approaching?

  Griffin only needs to take it seriously enough to stay safe.

  “It’s fine,” I say to him even though it’s not. Inhaling deeply, I convince myself to smile. Freaking out and arguing won’t help. “I only want us to be on the same page, okay?”

  He nods. “We are. I know you’re scared, but you’re safe with me.”

  My smile needs no more convincing. “It’s sweet you think you can keep me safe.” I laugh lightly, trying to make a joke. But it rings more true than false—he can’t keep me safe. According to my vision, he can’t even keep himself safe.

  It is sweet that he wants to try.

  “Will you still go with me tonight?” I ask. “I’d rather it be a double date than for me to be a third wheel.”

  He grins, watching me with a lively look in his eye. “So you’re asking me on a date?” His captivating smile and playful tone are back.

  I toss my hair over my shoulder and shrug. “My other boyfriend can’t make it. You were my second choice.”

  “Other boyfriend?”

  My heart skips, and my cheeks instantly burn. “I wasn’t insinuating that you and I…I just—it was a joke.” Oh boy, he thinks I’ve asked him on a date and think of him as my boyfriend. I’m aiming for the opposite. “I didn’t mean—oh, whatever, you know what I meant.”
<
br />   Griffin moves closer until his mouth is mere inches from mine, and it’s all I can do to ignore my rapid pulse, to focus on this image of him rather than the horrible one from my vision. He lightly brushes a hair from my cheek, tucks it behind my ear. His touch gives me goose bumps and makes my heart ache for more. I’m consumed with his nearness, with the placement of his mouth. Focus, Quinn. But he can’t kiss me. No, that’ll be one step closer to actually being my boyfriend, and he can’t be my boyfriend because that’s one step closer to falling in love with me. I can’t let that happen.

  I put distance between us, even though it hurts my heart to do so. Reprieve and regret collide until I’m numb. “What do you say, you want to come hang out?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “All right,” he says. “I’ll go.”

  “Perfect.” My voice hitches unexpectedly.

  “You want me to hang out with your friend, get to know her?” he asks, one hand trailing down my arm to my fingertips. “So she can give her opinion on which of your boyfriends is the keeper—you need her approval, right?”

  I grin, shaking my head. “Nothing like that, and anyway, I’m the one with good judgment. She’s not.”

  Griffin raises a brow. “You? Good judgment?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean? I do have good judgment. I’m with you now, aren’t I?”

  “Have you met me?”

  “Your cliché, flirting bad-boy act is good, I admit, but it’s not who you are. Like I said, my judgment is rock-solid.”

  “Wait, you not only think I’m cliché, but I’m also terrible at pretending to have a bad-boy facade?” Griffin’s brow pulls together, lines around his eyes crinkling in amusement.

  “It’s just…you have this mysterious past, and the whole moving away from your entire life to live here, in boring Dayton, Ohio?”

  “And that’s cliché?”

  “It’s the kind of background you’d expect from Spiderman or Superman. That, by default, is cliché.”

  He laughs. “You’re saying you think I’m a superhero?”

  I lightly smack him in the chest, grinning. “No. Not that. You know what, forget I mentioned it.”

  “Uh-huh.” He gives me a knowing look. “I think someone’s getting a little judgy.”

  “No, I—”

  Griffin closes the gap I’d made and kisses me, grasping my face in his hands like he’s been waiting all day to do this. Inside his modestly decorated living room, I fall head over heels for a guy I haven’t known that long. I don’t want it. I don’t want to like his lips pressing against mine, or my hands wrapping around his waist, or his fingers moving in my hair. Emotions complicate things. He wasn’t supposed to kiss me.

  Too late for that.

  I grip his T-shirt—don’t know when I became the shirt-gripping girl, but here I am. I let him tug me even closer, revel in the feel of his wandering hands across my lower back and his tongue exploring my mouth. My heart pounds like fireworks are going off inside my chest, like all my adrenaline might launch us off the ground.

  He finally inches his head back and lifts one hand to cup my cheek. “You mean yes?”

  My brain is clouded and hazy. Shit. I royally screwed up. “What am I saying yes to, again?”

  Griffin tips his head, pretends to consider it by scrunching his stunning features, then says, “You’re either agreeing that I’m a superhero or that you’re getting a little judgy. I’m hoping for both, to be honest.”

  “There is no—” I start to say before I’m interrupted.

  He kisses me again, lightly, gently, and I shiver—both from his touch and from thoughts of threats that are more than scary.

  “I’ll come with you tonight,” he finally says. “Consider it a favor.” When he winks, I roll my eyes playfully.

  “A favor you’ll want to eventually collect.”

  “That’s generally how favors work.” He grins.

  “I can accept that.”

  The carefree look on his face causes my thoughts to turn sour on me. Every moment with Griffin that feels nice and normal…it shouldn’t feel normal. Because it isn’t normal. The more time I spend with him, the more I feel his skin against mine and imagine those final moments when he says he loves me…the more my heart fractures. He might not realize it, but no matter where fate turns, one way or another, Griffin Howell is going to break my flipping heart.

  Chapter Fifteen

  As we head for the front door of the café, Griffin grabs my hand just like he’s done a handful of times. But the heady effect it has on my system hasn’t lessened. Especially not since he kissed me. My lips haven’t stopped tingling.

  Inside the venue, people crowd around small round tables. It’s not packed in here, but it’s busier than I thought it would be. The lights are set up to allow the perfect amount of artificial brightness, with the stage being the focal point. A microphone stands tall in the middle of the stage, and each table has its own fake, yet fancy candle-looking thing in the center. I scan the room, searching for Olivia and Jack.

  “Over there,” Griffin says, leaning close and pointing with his free hand.

  I spot Olivia’s black braids. She’s laughing, and so is the guy sitting next to her, dressed all in black once again. Neither of them notices us. The room is full, but they act like they’re the only two in the room. Griffin and I trek over there just as they start kissing. And it’s no short, sweet exchange. They’re full-on making out. Nice PDA, Liv. I smirk as we walk through the rows of tables.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” I say, sidling up to Olivia’s side, giving her bare shoulder a light touch.

  They break apart, and she stares at me like a blinded deer for a moment before her brain comes back down from those clouds. Then she grins and waves rapidly with one hand. “Hey, guys. So glad you came!”

  I laugh. “Sure. This will be interesting. Looking forward to it.” Not completely untrue.

  Griffin releases my hand, and we both take a seat at the four-person table.

  “Who doesn’t love poetry?” Jack says, a warm smile on his lips. He has warm-brown eyes and a can’t-look-away smile.

  “So you’re performing tonight?” I ask him.

  He nods, leaning his elbows onto the table. “Sure am.”

  “First time?”

  “No, no.” He waves a hand. “I’m a regular here.” As if proving his point, he waves to someone in the distance. I look, but don’t know who he waved at.

  I turn back to him. “Are you nervous?” I would be.

  Jack waves dismissively again. “No way. I do this all the time. I love it.”

  Olivia looks at me, a stupid lovestruck grin showcasing her perfect teeth. “And he’s great at it.”

  “Guess we’ll be finding out soon enough, right?” I say with a halfhearted laugh. How does a guy manage to be attractive, skilled in hacking, and decent at poetry? That’s one hell of a combo. What an interesting childhood Jack must have had.

  Jack shrugs, leaning back, though a coy smile still lingers on his lips. “Oh, I’m good. Trust me. I enjoy the spotlight. Sometimes.” He winks.

  He actually winked? Ha, whatever, Olivia always goes for the charmers. The ones who say the right things at the right times. Who do the right things at the right times. Then she ends up with nothing but a broken heart.

  Jack seems nice enough, so I hope, for her sake, that their ending has a brighter future than mine and Griffin’s. Too bad I can’t touch him to find out how their relationship will lead.

  “Everything okay?” Griffin whispers close to my ear.

  I slide my gaze his way, feeling a burn rush through my veins at getting caught staring at Jack. “Everything’s good.” I pull on a smile. “That was my thinking face.”

  He tips his head, raising one brow. “What were you thinking about?”

 
Other than haunted thoughts of the future?

  Griffin considers my lack of response, his lips twisting. “Are you still thinking about how I was a calloused, unempathetic asshole earlier?”

  The burn rushes to my cheeks, though my embarrassment has dissipated. “You know what they say. Once an asshole, forever an asshole,” I joke.

  He laughs, low and deep, like I’ve barely amused him. “No one says that.”

  “I have,” Olivia interjects, leaning in to be heard. “Once you’ve been a true ass, there’s no forgive and forget. But I’m sure you couldn’t have been too much of an asshole.” She giggles, grinning like a kid on Christmas Day. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

  When Griffin looks from her to me, I shrug, feeling put on the spot. “That is her slogan. And also, I never said you were an asshole. You, sir, made that up.”

  His lips quirk in a ridiculously cute way. “That doesn’t sound like something I’d do.”

  I laugh. “Course not.”

  “I’m going to grab a water from the bar,” he says, motioning behind him. “Do you want anything?”

  I ask for a water, too. Both Jack and Olivia already have drinks and decline when Griffin asks if they need anything else.

  In his absence, I pull out my camera, adjust the settings, then look around the room, hoping to find interesting images.

  “Of course you brought that thing,” Olivia says.

  “I need another image. Something edgy and alive. I figured Therapy Café might produce some interesting images.” I snap a few test shots of the floor.

  “You’re going to photograph the performers?” Jack asks.

  “No.” I adjust the camera settings again. “That would be way too much paperwork to have people sign release forms. But you’d be surprised at the kinds of images I could get without using faces. You know how in Chipotle restaurants, they frame abstract photos of the building—the lights, metal piping, anything that captures the eye?” I always stare at them while waiting in line.

  “I’ve never really noticed that before,” Olivia says. “But I think I know what you mean. I’m sure you could make a table look cool via a photo.”