Yes, you were. I edge around him, make my way to the rear of the courtroom and head for the parking lot exit. I’m barely into the hallway though before Ian’s stepping on my heels.
“Look, Wick, sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that.” He grabs my elbow and I round on him, fist clenched. Ian shies away, shrinking into the wall, and, to my right and left, people start to stare.
Dammit.
“Don’t grab me,” I whisper.
“Because of . . . ?”
My mouth drops open. Because of Todd? I’m suddenly sorry I didn’t punch Ian right in the ear. “Because it’s rude.”
And yes, because of Todd.
“Oh. Right. Sorry.” Ian’s cheeks go My Little Pony pink, and even though I’m irritated with him, I start to feel bad. It’s not like he’s a threat. We probably wear the same jeans size. Besides, most people probably wouldn’t have a problem with their elbow getting touched.
Which, technically, makes me the freak.
Sigh. I need to apologize.
“Look,” Ian says. “I wanted to ask if we could partner on that computer lab project.”
“You’re not in my class.”
“I know. I’m in Mrs. Lowe’s fifth period. She’s okay with it if you’re okay with it.”
I stifle a groan. Why the hell would our teacher say that? No way do I want team up with Ian Bay. Not only is there the whole I’m investigating his dad thing, there’s also the problem that two geeks are easier to target than one.
I fly under the radar at school, avoiding anyone who might toss me in the Dumpster (don’t ask). Ian tries to fit in. He follows the popular kids around, hoping they’ll eventually warm to him. It should disgust me, the way he begs for their attention, but . . .
I heave an enormous sigh. I hate when people pity me, but right now, that’s all I feel for him. “Are you sure you shouldn’t partner with someone else? I mean, we would have to write the report after school instead of during class and, with everything you have going on . . .”
“That’s kind of the thing.” Ian rubs the back of his hand against his nose, making him look like an overgrown kid. “I don’t really want to be home right now and I’m pretty much bombing that class. I thought it was going to be way easier and, you know . . .” He shrugs, stuffing both hands into his jeans pockets. I think he’s trying for nonchalant. It’s coming off as pitiful.
I will be a total idiot if I agree.
So why can’t I force myself to say no?
Because I understand what it’s like to not want to go home. Because I understand what it’s like to be buried.
Because I am that total idiot.
“Okay, fine.” Even though the agreement emerges in a snarl, Ian’s eyes go bright. “Email me at this address and I’ll send you my notes.” I scribble my personal email onto a piece of scrap paper and pass it to him. He pockets it.
“Thanks, Wick.”
“No big deal,” I say, turning to leave, and, thankfully, Ian doesn’t follow me. I make it to the parking lot by myself. Where I see Griff leaning on my car.
It kicks the air right out of me.
“Hey,” he says, peeling himself up.
“Hey.” I unlock my car door, grip it with both hands so I don’t reach for him. I am not going to be that desperate.
Even if I’m scared I already am.
“How did you know I was here?” I ask.
“Bren told me. I wanted to apologize. For last night. I get it.”
He doesn’t. I can see it in the line of his shoulders, how they tense at the words. He’s faking.
“It’s okay.” I’m nodding too hard, can’t seem to stop. “I understand. You were just upset.”
Griff’s eyes spear mine. “You don’t have to make excuses for me.”
I do because that would mean the alternative is Griff not understanding the situation—not understanding me.
“So.” He shifts from foot to foot, studying the thunderclouds gathering on the horizon. “How did it go?”
I hesitate, still hearing the way he said I was enjoying the job. “It’s not going that great. I was able to get into Bay’s personal email. It’s going to take some more digging.”
Griff nods. “You’ll need another computer.”
“Oh! Yeah, no problem. Do you need yours?” I go for the laptop and Griff’s hand circles my arm.
“No, no, it’s just, you’ll need something faster—like what you had before.”
I scowl. “I don’t think PD’s returning mine anytime soon.”
In one of Carson’s earlier attempts to trap me, he talked Todd into giving him my computer, told my foster dad it was for my own protection, and the detective still has it. The thought of forensic computer specialists going through my hard drive gives me serious terror sweats.
It’s not that I wasn’t careful, I was. I am, but all it takes is an undeleted keystroke, a partially remaining file. Used to be I had to worry about what I’d done. Now I have to worry about what I’ve missed.
Back then all I could think about was how I had to catch the man who was stalking my sister. I would have been dead in the water if it wasn’t for Griff. He gave me the laptop I used to trap Todd.