“I am scared,” she continues. “He said he could help. He said he wouldn’t tell anyone what he knew about you. I wanted to fix everything. I wanted to make your lives perfect because mine wasn’t. I wanted to give you what I never had. But there’s something very ugly in the perfect, isn’t there?”
“Yes,” I whisper and I didn’t know how true it was until now. We both spent so much time trying to make our lives into something they weren’t. And in the end, all we did was feed each other lies.
“I wanted to save you,” Bren says. “I knew whatever you were involved in was bigger than anything I could ever fight and I wasn’t going to risk you. I couldn’t.” Her smile is razor-blade straight and just as sharp. “So when Hart came along, I was ready to hear everything he wanted to say. I was the perfect target.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
Bren shakes her head. “I don’t know what to do, Wick. About the money, about Mr. Hart, about any of it. If I go to the police, I’ll have to give them you too and I won’t. We deal with this together. As a family.” She sniffles and turns to Lily. “You have practice in the morning.”
Lily rolls her eyes. “I know. I know. I just assumed we would—”
“Like they said,” Bren continues, straightening her shoulders. “This is only the beginning. There will be plenty of other nights. He’s gone. The alarm’s set. Let’s get your gear ready for tomorrow.”
Yep, much more like the old Bren. But she can only drag Lily upstairs once I swear to stop by her bedroom before I crash for the night.
“I so missed you,” my sister whispers as we hug—hard enough for her fingers to leave marks on my skin—and, somehow, it still isn’t hard enough.
“I so missed you,” I echo. Lily’s smile is watery and I promise her we’ll talk more. “We have forever, right?”
“Right.” She squeezes my hand one last time before following Bren upstairs. Briefly, I’m grateful. I need a minute. I need more than a minute. My brain is overstuffed and fried. I’m too big for my skin and too small for the room and I’m grateful for the space to breathe again.
Until I realize now I’m alone with Griff.
31
For a long moment, neither of us moves. Then he limps across the living room and takes a seat on the couch. I wish I could do the same thing. Right now, I’m glued to the floor. I need something to say and I have nothing. Wait. For once, that’s not actually true.
“Thank you for taking care of them, Griff.”
He nods, looks away. I’m sure it’s so I can’t read his expression. Too bad I can still see how his jaw flexes.
“Why did you?” I shouldn’t ask, but I’m done with all the not-askings and the not-tellings and the silences I bury myself in. Especially with him.
And when Griff faces me, I think he feels the same way. It’s simmering in how his eyes bore straight through me, in the way his right hand twitches once.
“I took care of them because they’re yours.”
It’s so honest and raw I feel like I should avert my eyes. “Why were you at Joe’s?”
A smirk. I recognize it. There’s always a bitter bent to his mouth when he’s disgusted with himself. “I was looking for Michael.”
“Why?”
“I needed to know his plans.” Griff rubs one bandaged thumb against his lower lip. “No one could figure out where Michael was—my cousin, his team at the police department, no one. I knew Michael hadn’t run. I knew he was still a threat. Problem was, I needed better proof than rumors.”
My stomach dips. “Is that what got you in ‘the wrong place at the wrong time’?”
“Pretty much. I confirmed with my contacts though—his people are running. He won’t be far behind.”
“You should never have looked for him.”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“For you.” His eyes travel past me to the darkened hallway. “And for them.”
“You shouldn’t have risked it! You knew what would happen if he caught you! You knew what you had to lose!”
Griff tilts his head ever so slightly, almost as if he’s trying to hear me better. “As long as he’s loose, you’re not safe. You’ll never be safe.”
“That’s not an answer.” Except it is. Griff knew what he stood to lose and he did it anyway. I feel like I’m spinning, but the room doesn’t budge. He sacrificed himself for me.
I sit down. Hard. “Where are you staying now?”
“Here. Guest room. Bren is . . . really generous. I can’t go back there. Even if I hadn’t worked for Carson and my cousin . . .” Griff shakes and shakes his head like the words are something he has to loosen. “I can’t take it there anymore.”
There. Our old neighborhood. Funny how a place can be so much more than a location. Griff and I have been defined by that neighborhood for years. It’s what people think about when they meet us. It’s what we think about when we look at ourselves.
I pluck at the braided trim on one of the couch pillows. “What’s going on with your mom?”
“Ran off with a trucker.” Griff’s smile is so white against the bruises, and everything I remember about him sweeps over me. Through me. I have to look away. “Who’d have thought that would be such a good thing?” he asks.