A little while later, I find myself in need of a ride home. Olivia wants to stay with Jack, and she’s so upset, I don’t want to make her drive me home. Grandma is out at book club tonight, so she’s not an option. I would Uber, but when I try to find a ride, the app tells me my credit card information won’t go through. I know that card was working just yesterday!
I sigh, roll my shoulders back, and go with plan D: AKA my last resort. I call Griffin. While it rings, I wonder if he’ll even answer. Crap, there are no other plans than this. Sure, I could walk the eight miles or insist Olivia take me, but those options suck just as much.
“Hey,” Griffin says on the other end.
“Griffin, hi. Look, I’m sorry to bother you. I just really need a ride home from the hospital. Could you come get me? I hate that I have to ask you; there’s no one else. I’ll throw you some money for your troubles.”
He pauses, and I almost expect him to say no. “You don’t need to pay me. I’ll pick you up. Give me like ten minutes or so.”
I say goodbye to Olivia and Jack, who thanks me once again for being his hero. I laugh and wave his comment off. I’m no hero.
Fifteen minutes later, Griffin pulls up near the emergency entrance. When I climb into the car, he doesn’t look over at me and grin like he usually does. He does mutter a “hey” but it lacks any sincerity. I pretend to act like this no-talking thing is okay, but it’s far from it, and I can keep my thoughts silent for only so long.
“I know you’re upset with me, and I’m really sorry you had to come get me.”
Griffin finally spares a glance at me, but his brows are still furrowed in frustration. “What were you doing with Jack downtown? Alone?”
“Is that what this is about? Jack?”
He turns onto Main Street. “Just answer the question.”
I raise my brows, not liking the tone he’s using. “You sound like you’re accusing me of doing something. With the boyfriend of my best friend, by the way. Do you really think I would do that to you or her?” I try to stay mad as the words tumble out, but by the end, my rage has turned to hurt.
He rubs the side of his jaw, looking downward. He inhales deeply, then looks back up. “Maybe I am a little…jealous. God, I feel ridiculous admitting that. It’s just there are these times when he looks at you in a way that seems more than friendly. The occasional wink he thinks no one else sees. His extreme curiosity about you. Now this outing with just the two of you moseying around downtown. It all…added together in my head until it felt too heavy and unbalanced to carry. So yeah, guess I am jealous.”
I understand jealousy. And I can’t blame him, if I’m being honest. If the roles were reversed, I’m sure I’d be incredibly jealous. “There’s nothing for you to worry about,” I tell Griffin. “I like you, not Jack.”
Once I’ve said it, I wish I could take it back. Not because it’s a lie, but all I’m doing is sending mixed signals. It isn’t fair for either of us. What he and I need is more space. I shouldn’t be saying anything remotely romantic to Griffin. No wonder he always looks confused, his eyes narrowing, lips flattening. I wish my feelings were more black-and-white. The shades of gray are incomprehensible.
We ride the rest of the way home in silence, which is only about two minutes. But the silence seems to stretch and bend between us. There are too many emotions, too many miscommunications. I want romance with Griffin, but I don’t deserve it. Especially not when it could help save his life.
As we walk up the pathway toward our apartment buildings, I consider asking him to hang out. I truly do miss him, and we can at least be friends, can’t we?
At the edge of the sidewalk where we take our separate paths, he wraps an arm around me in a half-assed hug.
“Do you want to hang out?” The words come out quickly, and I don’t remember deciding on this option.
His lips twist into half a smile. “Not tonight.” Griffin takes a few steps backward, giving me a wave. Since when did we wave? He says over his shoulder, “See ya later, Quinn.”
As much as I hate myself for it, I wish he’d have called me buttercup. But of course, he didn’t; Griffin is flipping pissed at me. I have only myself to blame.
Chapter Nineteen
Days pass, and I don’t hear from Griffin. Yesterday though, I caved and asked him if he was doing all right. He said yes and then at least had the decency to ask me the same in return. But that’s as far as our conversation went. Normally, he would’ve texted me a few times, even if we didn’t have any plans to hang out. I don’t know what to say or do anymore. This is what I wanted, but it’s also not what I want at all.
I decide it’s about time I visit Jack and make sure he’s doing okay. Olivia said he’s healing, but the image of him in the middle of the street still haunts my thoughts. If I see him alive and well in person, maybe that’ll stop. The place he shares with a roommate is a two-bedroom townhouse in a dingier part of town. The building has cracks running through the bricks and the carpet looks like it’s been there for years, but at least it’s clean.
Inside, the couch is years outdated, just like nearly everything else, with a giant tear on the left cushion, but it doesn’t look altogether gross. Guess there’s that. Plus, it looks comfortable. Opposite the couch is a small flat-screen TV sitting on a dark wooden stand. There’s a lamp in the corner. One of those ten-dollar lamps you get at Walmart. The place is minimally decorated, even compared to Griffin’s sparse apartment.
“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” I say. “Does it hurt much?”
“Nah, not much anymore. The sling gets more annoying every day.” He gestures with his good arm. “I’m sorry I had to cancel our plans. I’ve got some time now, if you want to take a look at what I’ve been doing?”
Yes! “If you don’t mind, I’d love that.”
“My computer setup is in my bedroom,” Jack says, motioning me to follow him up the stairs. “That’s where the magic happens.”
I resist a snort and take a deep breath, shaking my hands out as if that’ll lessen my nerves. What if Jack finds something I don’t want to know? Or what if he doesn’t find anything at all? I’m not sure which would be worse.
We take a right at the top of the landing. His bedroom is entirely modern with black furniture, and a simple decorative style. He’s got a desk set up in the corner with three monitor screens active. There’s probably thousands of dollars’ worth of equipment in here.
“I guess hacking pays off, huh?” I say, mildly amused and definitely impressed.
“Sometimes.” He winks, grinning.
I laugh because I don’t know how else to respond.
He swivels the computer chair my way. “Here, sit. I’ll bring up what I’ve been looking into.”
When I sit in his plush chair, Jack kneels on the ground beside me, taking control of the mouse, clicking on the screen a few times.
Something opens on the middle screen. “This is Griffin’s public record,” Jack says. “He’s had a few speeding tickets. One underage alcohol consumption charge. There are a couple different restraining orders he’d filed after receiving threats and comments through the mail.”
I nod. This all seems to line up with what I’d found on Google, further proof I’m definitely the reason for what’s happening now. “He’s innocent in all this.”
Jack looks over at me briefly but turns back to the computer almost immediately. “You think someone wants to hurt you, is that right?”
“Yes. Those cut brake lines were not a prank. Someone could’ve killed us.”
He considers this for a moment, shifting his head back and forth. “True. But it was Griffin’s car, yeah? Maybe that occurrence was only about him, not you.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, though. That’s the one thing I can’t exactly figure out. Why bother with Griffin if I’m the real target?”
J
ack moves the mouse again, clicking on a few things. “Maybe the attacks on Griffin were meant only to scare you both.”
“Who breaks in only to destroy someone’s prized guitar?”
He rubs a hand along his jaw, shifting his features into an unsure expression. “Could it have simply been a coincidence?”
I make a disbelieving noise. “I doubt it.”
Silence envelops the room, thickening the air. Eventually, Jack adjusts his position and pulls something up to view on the left monitor, leaving Griffin’s short criminal record in the center.
“Why are you so willing to help?” I ask suddenly.
My best friend’s boyfriend pinches his brows together, eyeing me in a way that suggests he has questions of his own. “I’ll do anything for Olivia, so that means I’ll do anything for you. This is no big deal, though.” He gestures at the computer setup. “I like doing this, and besides, I’m good at it. Don’t worry, I’m enjoying every minute of this.”
“When did you learn to do all this hacking?”
“I was maybe fourteen.” He types something into a search bar. “It was easy for me to pick up. Once I figured out I might actually be good at this, I got serious about it. I spent a lot of my days studying, and by the time I was sixteen, I could hack into most U.S. databases, plus a handful of international ones.” He stares at the monitors, uninterested in my reaction.
“Wow.” It’s a whisper I’m not sure he hears. After a minute of silence I ask, “Did you look into my past?”
“Of course,” he says, with a shrug. “I know every school you attended, every house you’ve ever lived in. I also know the full names of family members: aunts, uncles, grandmas, grandpas. I could go back one hundred years if I tried. But none of that is relevant to our current situation.”
I rub my forehead and shove hair behind my ears, becoming frustrated. “Are you saying you found nothing of use?”
“I’m not convinced it’s about you,” he says.
“I’m sorry, what?”
“What I mean is…these occurrences, I don’t think they’re meant to harm you. Like I said, I think they’re meant to scare you.”
The pulse in my forehead pounds once again. “They’re doing a good job,” I mutter.
“Hey.” He grabs my wrist lightly, tilting his head. “I’ll help you end all of this. I promise. No matter what it takes.” Jack gives me a brief smile, one I return. He digs through a stack of papers until he finds a small notepad, which he hands to me. “Write down the names of all your exes, enemies, or anyone else you think might be suspicious.”
I raise a brow. He hands me a pen. “Really?”
“I’m going to cross-reference those names against the names that already came up in your background. I don’t want to miss out on any details, big or small.”
“You think this will help?”
“Unless you have a better idea?”
That, I do not.
“Hey, maybe tomorrow we can go see the statue that looks like an angel, the one I told you about before the car hit me?” Jack smirks.
I look up from the pad of paper. “I forgot about that. You sure you’ll be up for leaving the house?”
“Oh, I’m sure. Three days of doing nothing is enough for me.”
Once I’m done with the short list, I’m unconvinced anyone on this list is responsible for the incidents. But like Jack said, I don’t have a better angle.
“How long will it take you to cross-reference the names?” I ask, handing the list to Jack.
“I should be finished by the time we meet up tomorrow.”
When I get into the backseat of Olivia’s car the next evening, Jack immediately turns around in the passenger seat and shakes his head.
“Nothing?” Disappointment washes over me. “Damn.”
“It’s okay, I’m not giving up yet,” he says. “Maybe you don’t know the person, but they could know you.” He glances at Olivia, then looks back to me. “Like a family friend or…a family member even. Every family has secrets.”
Olivia puts a hand to her chest. “Are you saying that Jack, the great hacker extraordinaire, might’ve missed something?” She emphasizes a gasp, then breaks down into giggles.
“Don’t you start doubting my abilities now.”
A door, somewhere nearby, shuts loudly. A set of keys jingle. I turn my head to see Griffin walking down the path toward the parking lot. He looks straight at me and pauses for just a moment before continuing his trek to his rental car. I don’t wave, open my mouth, or even smile. I’m too busy not knowing what to do, and the moment flits away.
I settle into the worn seat, desperately wishing I’d asked Griffin to come along.
“Every time I’m not around you, I’m so worried!” Olivia says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. “After all this stalker business, and that hit-and-run earlier this week, even I’m freaked out.”
“You think I’m cursed, don’t you?” I wish she knew the irony in my question.
“I don’t know, girl, but I believe you’ve got a reason to be worried.”
Jack says, “It’s best to assume the worst.”
“The hit-and-run could’ve been a coincidence, sure, but at this point, it’s safe to assume all these events are related. You agree, right, Quinn?”
“Yes, but there’s no proof of anything. Right now, all we’ve got is a string of illegal, threatening circumstances. Besides, I don’t believe in coincidences anymore.”
“Hold on a second,” she says, “If you think it’s all related, maybe we shouldn’t be going out in public together. Doesn’t that make us easy targets?”
Jack waves his hand flippantly. “Where we’re going isn’t exactly public. I doubt we’ll run into anyone. We’ll be fine.”
She raises a skeptical brow, but she smiles. “Good thing I trust you.” Talking to me, she says, “Did Griffin have to work? Is that why he’s not coming with us?”
“Honestly…” I bite the inside of my cheek and reconsider. “Yeah. He’s working.”
I doubt she believes me, but she carries on anyway. “Maybe it’s a good thing. You don’t want anything distracting you or blocking your creative juices. Right now, you should be excited because you’re going to get an awesome photo for your portfolio. And I get to witness it.” Her smile goes into full-on fangirl status.
“It’s not that big of a deal.” Though her fandom-ness makes me warm inside, and I can’t contain my own smile.
Her black brows furrow, and she plants her hands on her hips. “It is a huge deal. All you ever talk about is this portfolio and how you haven’t gotten anything good lately and blah-di-freaking-blah. So after today, you may just have one more spectacular photo to add.”
I lick my lips, nodding slowly. She does have a point. It’s best to just nod, smile, and try not to think about Griffin.
There is one good thing about him basically ignoring me: he’s never going to fall in love with me that way.
“So where is this statue that you claim looks like an angel at sundown?” I ask Jack, watching the trees pass by as we drive the familiar suburban streets.
“You’ll see.”
“You sound like Griffin.”
His eyes meet mine. “How so?”
I shrug one shoulder. “Everything’s always a mystery. Is that just a guy thing?”
His laugh is low and not nearly as warm and fuzzy as Griffin’s. “It’s not a mystery. You’ll see where the statue is when we get there. It’s something you have to see to believe. If I told you, you’d probably get the wrong idea in your head.”
“Liv, you’re driving, so you clearly know where we’re going.”
“I have an address in my GPS,” she says, glancing at me in the rearview mirror.
I shake my head with a light laugh. “I don’t see the point in keeping
it a secret.”
Jack chuckles. “Secrets make things a bit more intriguing though, don’t they?”
“I guess.”
Eventually, the car comes to a stop. I unbuckle my seat belt, looking out the window to see where we are, and my heart twists into a giant knot.
My breaths come in short, quick succession as I push the car door open and set my feet on the gravel. I swivel my gaze around, taking in the full trees, the bright green grass, and the multiple shades of gray that the hundreds of headstones are made from. Some tall. Some short. Some old and withered. Some new and fresh, with the earth surrounding them recently filled with replacement dirt.
I turn, continuing to take in the cemetery while my heart beats out a rhythm that can’t be good for my health.
“Quinn?”
I turn toward Olivia, and there’s a good chance she’s said my name more than once. “Huh?”
“Is something wrong?” She steps closer, stretching out her hands like I’m on the verge of collapse and she might be able to catch me if I pass out.
“It’s…I…”
Jack comes around the car to stand next to Olivia, and I stare at their worried faces, twisting my fingers together, attempting to slow my breathing.
“My parents are buried here,” I whisper.
“Oh, Quinn.” Olivia inches closer, her face falling. “I didn’t know where we were going. Jack just said—”
“I’m fine.” I wave my hand and force a smile to prove my lie is truth. “You didn’t know. He didn’t know. It’s okay. I’m…I wasn’t expecting this.”
I haven’t visited my parents’ graves in over a year. I’ve made peace with their deaths, but the unexpectedness of being here isn’t what I wanted, and it’s doing some dreadful things to my insides.
“I’m so sorry,” Jack says, leaning his head to the right, looking at me like I’m a sick and broken puppy. “I didn’t know. I swear. If I had, I wouldn’t have suggested it.”
I shake my head and wipe my palms against my jeans, forcing the twitchiness away. “I’m fine, guys. Like I said, just a surprise.”
To Whatever End Page 15