I swallow. “If I do this . . . how do I know you’ll leave him alone?”
“You think he’s any use to me?” The detective leans forward. “You do what I want, I’ll stay away from him.”
“And the tape?”
“Help me close this case and I’ll give it to you.”
Or I’ll take it. I nod. “It’s a deal.”
“I’m going to make you a hero, trash—in spite of that bad blood of yours. Think of losing Griff as a growing pain.” He cocks his head, studying me with the keen, questioning eyes that belong to addicts or pit bulls. “That boy’ll never forgive you for working for me again.”
No. He won’t.
Carson leans forward, pats my hand. The gesture’s so awkward, it feels borrowed. He’s slipping into Good Cop again. “Even if Griff doesn’t, you were never going to stay together anyway, Wick. I’ve seen the way he looks at you when we work together.”
I stiffen. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.
“It’s like he can barely believe what’s coming out of your mouth. He can’t reconcile his pretty, lost princess with the criminal standing in front of him. This was destined to be messy. It was always going to end badly.”
I look away. I hate admitting when Carson’s right.
27
I fake it the whole way home. Everything is fine. The future looks great. We’re together.
At first I’m proud I can maintain the lie . . . then I realize of course I can. Lying is what I do best, isn’t it?
“Do you want to come in?” I ask after we pull into the driveway. Griff nods hard, his smile suddenly too big for his face. I play with my house keys because I don’t want to see it, definitely don’t want to remember it.
Too late.
We check the house together. Windows, doors, security system, they’re all exactly as I left them. Should make me feel safe. Instead, it just feels like a reprieve.
Kyle is still loose. Jason still knows I’m snitching. Carson . . . I still work for Carson. And, for a second, I think I’m going to start crying all over again.
Since Bren and Lily are out, we go to the kitchen. Him telling me about an artists’ club he’s joined at school. Me counting tiles so I know precisely how far away I have to stay to do this.
“Griff? We need to talk.” A cliché, but the best I can do. I don’t look at him. “I’ve decided to keep working for Carson.”
There’s a long pause, and into it I fit everything I want to say and can’t: Carson has a recording of you breaking into the courthouse, I’m doing this to save you, I love you, and I’m sorry.
I’m so sorry.
Griff leans one hip against the counter. “Why?”
Yes. Why? The words I need dissolve in my hands. “Why not?”
“Because you hate it.”
I take a shaky breath, wince when his palm snares mine. “No. You hate it.”
“Yeah . . . I do. I don’t understand, Wick. Why’d you change your mind? Does this have something to do with . . .”
I tense. “What?”
“I don’t know.” Griff scowls. “Is it about Milo’s bullshit? How hackers should rule the world or whatever?”
“No.”
“Because he likes you. A lot. I can tell.”
I close my eyes, open them. I could use Milo to finish this. Griff would never suspect the real reasons.
“I hate how he looks at you,” Griff says slowly. I tug at my hand, but he doesn’t let go and I need him to. I can’t be this close when Griff starts looking at me like . . . like I’m me and not the girl he wanted.
The girl I wanted to be.
“I like him too,” I say. “We’re . . . the same kind of person, Griff.”
Just saying it aloud makes me realize it’s true.
Griff’s jaw tightens. “You’re right. I can’t keep up with you two.”
Because you’re better.
“Every time he looks at you,” Griff says, tracing the lines on my palm, “I want to beat his head into the pavement.”
I stare. He won’t meet my eyes and all I can hear is my breath, rattling past my lips. I don’t know what to say.
“I hate that about myself,” Griff continues, touching his fingertips to mine. “I never wanted to be that guy, but when I’m with you, I am.”
“I’m sorry.” It is fast and instant and I mean it. “I’m so sorry, Griff.”
“Don’t be.” His smile is fake, and when he lets me go, my hand goes cold. “It isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I can’t be like this. I think part of me always knew you would never quit. I knew I would have to walk away.”
No! Don’t! I’ll quit! I will do anything you ask! Everything I’m supposed to say and I don’t. Can’t.
“I’m sorry, Griff.”
“Liar.” He sounds proud of me though and something buried inside me shatters. “You love this. Tell me you don’t.”
I . . . can’t.
“This work.” Griff sighs, shaking his head. “It’s consuming you, Wick.”