She flops back on the bed. “How come you sound disappointed?”
I swallow my nerves and decide there’s no easy way to tell her my suspicions about her recent ex. She deserves to know, no matter how much I’d like to keep her in the dark. “I think Jack is my stalker.”
Her naturally bright face dims at my words. “Whoa, wait. Huh?” She lets out a confused half giggle, but the strangled sound dies in her throat. “You’re being serious?”
“Yes! I wouldn’t joke about this.”
“Why would you think that?”
“I promise you’ll get all the details eventually. For now, I need you to trust me. I need you to make sure you’re careful, okay? No matter what, he’s not a good guy.”
“Don’t worry, I’m never talking to him again.”
“That’s not the point,” I say, lightly grabbing her hands, forcing her to look at my face. “If Jack has been behind everything, then he’s dangerous. I don’t want to worry about you, too.”
“Me too?” Her nose scrunches. “Who else are you worried about?”
“I just mean on top of everything else going on,” I lie. “Please, promise me you’ll be safe.”
“Okay, okay. But what about you? Shouldn’t you be worried about staying safe?”
“Me? I’ll be fine. Promise. I think I know what to do.”
“Okay,” she says again, hesitantly this time. “I trust you.”
“Love you, Liv.”
“Love you, too.”
I realize it’s the last time I might ever get to talk to my best friend. If I can’t find a way to talk Jack down, he’s going to kill Griffin, just like my vision warned. Unless I do the honorable thing, the thing Grandma says won’t work—and maybe it won’t. But I’ll give my life to save Griffin.
…
Later that night, when someone knocks on the door, I’m not entirely surprised to see Jack there.
His arms are spread out as if to say don’t shoot. “Quinn. Hi.”
Since I’ve been half expecting this confrontation, I’m mentally ready for it. At least I think so. Maintaining a normal expression, I wait for him to continue. I cross my arms, trying to remain unafraid, not moving from my place in the doorway. “Jack. What’s going on?”
His lips shift into a lopsided frown. “I—I’m sorry about earlier. I was upset. I thought it was best to leave. I did more digging, and I found something.”
I step outside and close the door behind me. I don’t want to wake Grandma Ruth. “What do you mean, what did you find?”
“I found out your brother lives here. In Dayton.”
An unnamable emotion flares inside my chest. Is he even telling me the truth about having a brother? How much of this is real? “You finally have a name?”
He pauses. “No.” Jack palms his forehead, sighing. He shakes his head, eyebrows turning downward. “You really do doubt my capabilities, don’t you? You think I’ll never find him.”
“No. That’s not true,” I say. “All I meant is that it seems hard.”
“All important things are hard!” he shouts, and I flinch. He scrubs both hands down his face, his voice growing louder. “Why don’t you believe in me?”
Goose bumps rise along my arms and behind my neck. I step backward, frightened by his sudden anger but trying to appear unaffected. “Look, I know you’re upset, but—”
“Upset?” His hands turn into fists at his sides, that deer-in-headlights look back on his face. “If you appreciated me, you wouldn’t have told me we couldn’t be friends. Y-you wouldn’t have taken Olivia’s side. You would’ve listened to me because—because you’re my friend. I thought you were my friend.”
My hands shake as I stand there, trying to recognize Jack for the Jack I know. This isn’t the smooth-talking charmer he was when we met. His anger is misplaced, but it’s frightening. The look in his eyes…
There’s only one thing that makes sense. “It’s you, isn’t it? You’re…my brother? Wh…” My voice shakes the way my hands do. Tingles run across my spine, my feelings twisting until I don’t know what to feel. Our eyes…they’re almost the same color, and does he…do we have the same nose?
“I was waiting for the right time to tell you. When you told me you were glad you’d never had siblings, well, that’s when things got…harder. I knew I had to get you to like me in order for you to accept me. I didn’t want to tell you who I was and get shunned, the way our parents did when I was sixteen and went looking for them.”
I swallow and aim to steady my voice. “What’re you talking about?”
“You were probably ten the first time we met.” He gives a crooked smile, his hands still twitching. “You don’t remember? Of course not. Why else would you try to tell me that ridiculous story about seeing the future, seeing ‘our end?’ Clearly you don’t remember. You answered the door that day. We even shook hands, but before I could tell you who I was, Mom took you away from the door while Dad told me to leave.”
We shook hands. That’s why there’d been no vision of him when we touched. Whatever end there is for us, I’ve already seen it. And forgotten it. No, not forgotten. The awful vision I had of someone’s death, a someone I can’t remember, it must’ve been Jack.
He’s going to die, too?
Jack’s voice turns into hushed anger. “They didn’t want me. Didn’t want anything to do with me. But you? They kept you. They loved you. It isn’t fair. It’s never been fair!”
Oh God. Jack isn’t just my stalker, he’s my brother.
My heart pounds. “You did all those things to me and Griffin? You broke into both our apartments and… Oh my God, you cut the brake line on Griffin’s car. Why—you could have killed us! Was that your point?” Fear tightens like hands on my throat.
“You were always the point.”
Jack grabs my wrist and yanks me toward him. His eyes darken. My heart skips a beat. Something solid and cold presses into my side. A gun. Oh God.
“Jack?” I sputter as he pushes the barrel of the gun harder into my side.
He twists at my wrist, gripping even tighter, eyes wide and desperate. “Come on.”
I start walking beside him, toward the back of the apartment complex. Toward a large patch of trees and overgrown grass. I need to get away from Jack. I just have to think. Think, Quinn, think. Raindrops fall slowly, one hitting me on the nose. The wind picks up, and so does the rain. I freeze, a statue of adrenaline and nerves because I see it now. I see it.
In my vision…Griffin is dead on the ground in the rain. This ground, right here in front of the tree.
“What the hell? Don’t stop,” he growls.
“Why did you try to kill us?” I ask, hoping to maintain a semblance of calm.
He doesn’t let go of me, but he stops trying to pull me. “Are you still going on about the brake lines? Only Griffin was supposed to be in the car. Isn’t that much obvious? I never wanted to hurt you. You don’t understand.” His voice is rigid and pained. “You can’t understand.”
“You’re right.” My voice shakes. Just a little. My vision blurs with tears I won’t allow myself to shed. The graying sky is foreboding, so I fix my gaze on the trees. “I don’t understand. Why would you want to hurt Griffin?”
He drags me forward, pressing the gun even harder against my ribs. I bite down a gasp. We walk slowly toward the area with too many trees for anyone to see us. The rain picks up. So does my already skyrocketing pulse.
“I wanted him to stay away from you. I knew you wouldn’t have time for me if you were with him. I tried everything I could think of. I figured if you thought the guy had a stalker, you’d stay away.” He breathes raggedly. “Tried to get you to see. You didn’t see. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t listen. Now I have to show you.”
“Sh-show me what?”
He shakes his head and says noth
ing.
The sky breaks, and the light drizzle instantly turns to a downpour, the sound amplifying off the leaves.
“No.” The one word comes out in a sputter. I shiver, ignoring the water running into my eyes and mouth, falling from my chin and fingertips. I silently pray for Griffin to stay where he is, for him not to come to my rescue. Jack probably won’t hurt me, but he’s proven he’ll do anything to keep me from Griffin. Inhaling, I shiver again, from the cold rain, and the threat of the gun, and from what I know the future holds for Griffin. “Jack, please.”
“Shut up!” He backs me against a tree, using his free hand to wrap around my throat. “Just shut up.”
Goose bumps rise all over my arms and neck. “I’m s-sorry I didn’t know I had a brother.” I manage to speak with effort.
He laughs. It’s rough and wet, like he’s on the verge of tears. “Thought you never wanted a brother.”
“I never said that. If I’d known I had a brother, I would’ve been happy. But I grew up without one, so I don’t even know what having a brother feels like.” My fingers want to reach out and try to push him, hit him, anything, but the gun keeps me from doing anything but walking beside him at a snail’s pace. I scan the area, thankful when I don’t see Griffin.
Jack’s face is masked in shadows. It’s all hard lines, and his eyes are wide and watery. “You never even gave me a chance,” he says, letting go of my neck, pointing the gun at my face.
“That was my mistake,” I whisper, being quiet in hopes of keeping us hidden. If no one can hear us, no one can find us. “But I-I want to give you a chance now. You’re right, I didn’t see it before, but now I do.”
“You don’t!”
I wince. Okay, so I’m a terrible negotiator. Even all those Criminal Minds marathons on Netflix weren’t enough to help me figure out what to do in this situation.
He tips his head, dark hair matted to his cheeks. He shoves my shoulder hard against the tree with one massive hand, and I wince again. Everything hurts. It’s as though my entire body is breaking apart, bit by bit.
“What do you want from me?” I ask, my voice low and wilting. I’m trying so hard to sound unafraid, but it’s such a lie. All three of us won’t make it through the evening. “Please, I’ll do anything you want. Tell me how to help you.”
“You can’t,” he shouts. “I tried being nice. I was always only ever trying to be nice.”
I work hard to make my face appear brave. But I can’t help it, I’m going to melt out of my skin or my heart is going to explode.
No. No. Be strong, Quinn.
He lowers the gun, but it’s still aimed at my feet, so I don’t move. His words get warbled by the wind and rain. “You’re the only one I had left. Mom and Dad are dead, which is just as well, really. They abandoned me. I guess they got what was coming to them. But then you…you tried sending me away, too.”
I swallow the needles in my throat. He was a ward of the state, so no one knew who his parents were. I remember Olivia’s words so vividly, though they didn’t mean anything before.
I itch to place a hand against my pounding chest, but I worry the movement will make him pull the trigger. He inches toward me, and his face is so close to mine, I don’t dare breathe for as long as I can manage. “But—”
“Don’t speak. I know you’ll say anything.”
Through the ringing sound of the rain, I hear heavy footsteps. Or am I only imagining it? My inner self imagining the thing I fear most—for Griffin to find me.
But then I hear his voice. Hear my name.
Despite its inevitability, my heart cracks in his presence. Griffin is coming to help me, save me. He doesn’t know he’s walking straight toward his death.
Chapter Twenty-Six
All my senses go into overdrive the minute Griffin appears, covered in rain, his wet shirt sticking to his muscular body. Hair darkened and matted down. Eyes wide and mouth firm.
He says my name, slowing down as he nears us.
Jack grabs ahold of my upper arm and spins, taking the gun’s aim with him.
No.
“Stay out of this,” Jack says. “Turn around and leave us alone.”
I take a step away from the tree, so small I pray he doesn’t notice.
Jack’s voice turns to a growl. “Go away.”
Griffin takes a few steps closer, and Jack grunts.
“I said go away!”
Griffin lifts his hands slowly in surrender, though his face is doing anything but surrendering. The hard lines deepen, and he raises his voice to be heard over the rain. “Just let her go. You can have me. You can have whatever you want, just please let Quinn go. No one has to get hurt.”
Jack grunts again and lifts his eyes up to the sky, then blinks the fresh rain away. “Go. Away.”
I meet Griffin’s gaze, and though I’m pleading with him in my head, it doesn’t look like he’s going to oblige Jack’s request. No. Go home. I want to shout it. Because I know what’s going to happen. So does Griffin. And God, he won’t leave, because he thinks he can save me. He just might…but at the cost of giving up his own life.
I won’t let him do that for me.
If not for me, Griffin could’ve had a simple restart after moving to Dayton. He’d be happy, he’d be safe. This really is all my fault. If he dies, it will be because I failed.
There’s a part of me that wants to slither to the ground and evaporate into a thousand tears, a thousand screams. Because this is all coming true, the way my visions always do.
Griffin moves closer toward me, and Jack waves the gun in the air.
“If you want someone to shoot, you’re going to have to shoot me.” Griffin’s voice is darker than I’ve ever heard.
My fingers inch up my thighs as I mentally beg, Please don’t do this. He, of course doesn’t answer my silent plea. He doesn’t budge—an immovable statue, trying to protect me from something he has no control over. I love him for that. I also hate him for it.
He doesn’t know the truth about Jack, about how he blames me for having the life he never did. My heart is bursting, screaming. My skin is on fire like the rain is mixed with acid. There’s no talking Jack down. If I couldn’t do it, Griffin sure as hell can’t. It’s me or him. Looking at his exquisite features, I know I can’t live in a world where more than two people gave up their lives for me.
I won’t let Griffin die.
He moves toward us, despite the threat of the gun. I hear a click, and using all my force, I shove myself in between Griffin and Jack. If you want someone to shoot, you’re going to have to shoot me. Jack moves, and I barrel into him. He stumbles and shouts. The shot splits the air, cracking like thunder, echoing against the trees. It comes much quicker than I imagined. Every cell I’m made of wants—needs—to know if Griffin’s been shot. I need to know I spared his life.
But I fall on top of Jack, and all my weight lands on him. My palms scrape against the ground, and he makes a guttural sound that has my skin crawling.
Jack heaves me until I’m flat on my back, disoriented, but still breathing. I try to move, and pain slams into me. Fire encases my shoulder, and hell, it hurts to breathe. Oh. I’ve been shot.
I twist my head just as Griffin slams into Jack, and then they’re vying to track the gun, see where it is, see who has it.
Jack swings out a fist. Griffin does the same. The physical back and forth, the grunting and shouting lasts for moments that stretch on and on while I lie on the ground, trying to twist my body, trying to make it do what I want.
“Griffin.” His name on my lips is a whisper. A plea. A prayer. I look at my shoulder, at the blood pouring out of it.
Then another shot bursts out. Loud and deafening, and after the echo fades, there is only silence. Silence aside from the rain smashing against the wet earth, which sounds like a tinkling lullaby compared to th
e noise of the gun.
My heart thrumming, I use my foggy vision to search the area. To see where Jack is, expecting another bullet coming my way, this time likely straight into my head.
Griffin’s face appears. He kneels next to me, shouting my name. His face is blurred and broken, all the pieces looking so wrong, but God, he’s still beautiful.
“Quinn.”
“I did it, I…you… You didn’t get shot.”
His hands find the back of my head and he helps me sit up, though I wince from the pain. “He got shot.”
I choke on a half laugh. “So did I.”
Griffin’s face falls, a look I hate on him. I peek to our right and see Jack’s body lying on the ground. Sideways. Legs placed in an awkward position. His arms, too. No sign of movement. It’s the scene that has haunted me since I was a kid, since I touched Jack—even though I’d pushed the memory out of my mind.
I shudder. Tears collect on my cheeks, mixing with the rain. I try to speak, and Griffin shushes me, pulling my torso against his chest. He takes off his shirt and presses it tightly against my wound.
“I’m so sorry, Quinn.”
“It’s me…who’s…sorry.” I can hardly speak or breathe through the pain. “But hey, I did save you. I ch-changed my vision.”
He shakes his head, a sad smile gracing his lips. “Yeah, you did. You fool.”
I think I smile, too, but everything inside me is numb. Except for my heart, which is spazzing out.
Bleeding out.
“Griffin.”
He grabs my hand and tells me not to talk anymore. “We’re going to get help, okay?” He’s got the phone pressed to his ear. “You’ll be okay.”
“Stop it,” I say, looking at the ground, at my blood mixing with the rain in rivulets of red running through the mud. Just like in my vision. Only it’s me who’s dying, not Griffin. Using all the energy I can muster, I look up at his face. “I love you, you know that, right?”
He laughs, but it’s broken and hollow. “Yeah, I love you, too.”
His words fill my soul with warmth, with something I can’t explain. He does love me. And I love him. I never thought it would happen for me, never thought I would hear those words. I always figured I was a doomed girl never to have a happy ending.
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