Griff goes still and I can’t stop. I trace the line of his hip . . . the hardness of his stomach . . .
“Please,” he whispers and I’m gone. I pull him to me and my arms can’t tighten around him enough and my mouth can’t taste him enough and he’s grabbing me the same way.
Griff’s hips press hard into my stomach and his hands go to my face. The bandages are rough against my cheeks, but he holds me softly like he’s trying to spare me.
It’s wonderful and perfect and not enough and completely enough and . . . and it feels safe. Griff makes me feel safe.
I didn’t realize how much I wanted it, how much I missed it, until now.
And I don’t notice how Griff’s stiffened until his hands circle my upper arms. They graze the scratches still left from the car accident and he pushes me back a step. “Wicked . . . I can’t do this.”
Can’t do this? I snap my mouth shut and taste him on my lips. “Oh. Right.”
We’re both breathing hard. Griff takes two deliberate steps away from me and I struggle not to follow.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
He jerks like I bit him. “No. No, not like that. I can’t kiss you yet because I haven’t . . .” His teeth click together and his jaw flexes once. Again. “I haven’t told you everything. Wick, I . . . I’m still working for Carson.”
33
My whole world tilts sideways. “What?”
“He came to me after they took you in. That’s how I knew where you were. He told me you were in danger and you needed help. I’ve been pulling whatever information on Looking Glass I can—working through their online presences and some of their customers.”
“Griff, do you even know what—” I shake my head, but everything still feels like it’s spinning. “You can’t trust him. He’s a danger to you.”
“Is that why you broke up with me?” Griff takes a step toward me and I retreat. “Were you trying to protect me?”
I can’t breathe. I inhale hard and it’s still not enough. “Yes. Carson had video of you following me into the courthouse. He said he’d get you prosecuted as a domestic terrorist. He was going to go after your computer, search for anything incriminating.”
“And you figured since I’d been helping you, I was at risk.”
“Yes. You had—have—a future, Griff. He could have taken all of that away. I couldn’t let him. The only thing you’ve ever wanted is to get out, to get away. He was going to take that from you.”
Griff starts to speak, stops. I know how he feels. I don’t have anything else to say either. Dawn light is leaking past the drapes, turning the shadows lavender and gray. There’s a thump from upstairs and the shower cuts on.
My sister’s awake. It won’t be long before Bren and Lily are downstairs.
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” I ask suddenly. “I mean, God, Griff, you could have told me last night.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I just . . . I didn’t want you to look at me like—”
Like I am right now. Like Griff looked at me before we broke up.
I pass one hand over my hair. “No, I understand. I couldn’t talk to you before because I was scared you’d see who I’d become.”
“I think we’re both seeing each other pretty clearly now.” Griff pauses, watching my face, my mouth.
“What kind of work did you do for him?”
“Research mostly. Names. Places. I think he stays on the move a lot. He’s afraid of getting caught, Wick. He’s afraid for you.” Another pause before Griff says, “Carson says he can help you. It’s worth a shot.”
“No way.”
“He says he’ll back you, says he knows about Looking Glass and will testify. He knew about Hart. Carson said he knew the guy was watching you way before they took you in. He said he had evidence against them.”
“Carson had dirt on everyone. Blackmail was his favorite skill.”
“But if you two came forward, it would be . . .”
“A teen hacker and a disgraced police detective. You think a jury would really buy it?”
“What other options do we have?”
I don’t answer. Then again, no answer kind of is an answer. We have a big, fat nothing. Alex is gone. If I don’t get Norcut’s money, she’ll have me prosecuted for premeditated murder. I glance at Griff, who still hasn’t taken his eyes from me.
“After I went to bed last night, Carson contacted me and said he wants to meet you—us.”
“Where?”
Another pause. “Your old house.”
I can’t swallow past the knot in my throat. “No good. It’s being watched.”
“I’ll pay some neighborhood kids to distract them. Carson says he knows about the missing money.”
“How?”
“No idea. Isn’t it worth asking him though?”
I shake my head. “I still don’t understand why Carson would help. He has his own crap going on.”