Chapter 41

Sometimes I think I got involved with him because I was bored with boys.

—Page 9 of Tessa Waye’s diary

“You were in on it?” This doesn’t make any sense. It’s like when we repeat those random Spanish phrases in class to improve our accents. Everyone is saying the words, and no one has the faintest idea what they mean. That’s what this is like. No me gusta bullshit.

I put both hands on my knees and grip. “What. Are you. Talking. About?”

“You’re not the only one with secrets, Wick.” Griff meets my eyes, and whatever he sees there makes him wince. “My cousin’s a cop. I do undercover work for the police every once in a while.”

“Because they make you?”

“Because I want to.”

“Because they caught you before?”

Griff smiles. “Really blown you away, haven’t I?”

No. Yes. “So you’re a red hat.” It isn’t really a question, but he nods anyway. “And you know I’m not.”

“Yeah.”

I thought we were alike, but we’re not. Red hats are good hackers. They protect people, systems, websites. That makes Griff one of the good guys, and I’m still . . . just like my dad.

I swallow hard. “So . . . all those times you kept asking me why I didn’t do something else for money, what was that about? Some sort of hint?”

Griff studies the ground. “I wanted you to quit. . . . I also wanted to know the truth about why you were hacking.”

“Even though you were lying to me.”

“Yeah.”

“You said they took you in for questioning, but you were really . . . informing on us.”

“Not all of you. I didn’t tell them anything about you. They don’t know about your involvement.” Griff’s hand shoots forward, grabs mine. I start to pull away, but he holds me like he’s drowning and I’m a lifeline. “You didn’t want to be there. I had to save you.”

Something cold coils in my gut. “I don’t want to be saved. I don’t need to be saved.”

“Don’t you?”

I don’t answer. Griff’s seen what I am with my dad. He’s seen how I have to act with Joe. He’s seen the worst parts of me, the parts that make me the most ashamed.

I look away.

“You weren’t supposed to be there when they got busted,” Griff says quietly.

“Joe sent me a text. Emergency meeting.”

Griff’s fingers tangle around mine. “I didn’t want you to see it.”

Too late for that. A vision of my dad walking down the porch and looking up at me floods my brain. I squeeze my eyes shut. “Did you tell them about Tessa? About Lily?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

Griff presses his hands over both of mine, rubbing his fingers across my cold skin. “I didn’t tell them because I knew it would be the fastest way to lose you.”

 

Except that isn’t quite right. Griff wants to go to the cops, but he wants me to be the one to do it.

“Not going to happen.” We’re walking to his bike, and as the evening’s last joggers pass us, I duck my face so they can’t see how I’ve been crying. I don’t need to, though. Griff puts himself between their stares and me.

He grazes his hand against mine. “Are you sure you want to go home?”

Home? Yeah, I guess he’s right. Bren and Todd’s house is home now. If they put away my dad, it could be home for a long time.

Well, it could’ve been if I hadn’t screwed it up by telling Bren I had to think about her offer.

“Yeah, the detectives will come by.” I straighten. “I want to be there.”

“Wick.” Griff tucks me close, and for a moment, I let him. “They can help find Tessa’s rapist. They can help you.”

“You mean like they helped my mom?” Griff sucks air like I punched him. “I gave Carson Tessa’s diary, you know. I slipped it into his car when he was at my house the other day. You know what he did?”

“What?”

“Nothing. He showed up at Lauren’s house that night instead of investigating the diary. He doesn’t care about Tessa. It doesn’t matter to him. Not really.”

Griff’s arm tightens around my shoulders. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I’m always alone.” And then, because that sounds like I’m whining, I make myself grin. I am not broken. I do not need to be saved. “I’m alone, and that’s the way it needs to be.”

Griff scowls. “Why do you have to be like this?”

I refuse to look away. “Because this is who I am.”

Griff turns for his bike. “Get on.”

I start to object. We shouldn’t be seen together. It could be dangerous for Griff, for me.

But my hands reach for him anyway.

I climb behind him, feel all my bravado drain. By the time we get to my neighborhood, I’m cold to the bone. We turn the corner, and I see the cops parked at my house, waiting. Griff’s left hand squeezes mine.

It’s supposed to be comforting, but I still feel like he’s driving me straight into an ambush.