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“Are you okay?” Willow tries to rush closer, but I yank her back to me.
“You’re not wearing shoes either, Willow,” I tell her.
He hangs his head in more guilt than pain, I think, his hair falling into his eyes. “I tried to turn the lamp back on. I ended up knocking it over and I…” stepped on the glass. He winces, trying to pull out the shard in near darkness.
“Don’t,” Connor warns. “Rose, can you go get a first-aid kit and check on Jane?”
“I’ll be right back,” I say.
Loren’s half-sister snuck her friend into the house. I’m sure she had a reason for this, but it doesn’t assuage the fact that an eighteen-year-old little asshole has been camping out upstairs and my youngest sister is terrified downstairs.
And by the look on Connor’s normally stoic face, he’s not pleased either.
[ 48 ]
CONNOR COBALT
I learn that Garrison has no phone on him. He gave his cell to Willow when he stowed away in the Escalade’s trunk, wanting to show his friend that he had no plans of deception. When we first checked out the house, Willow stayed back and “called her mom” so she could sneak Garrison inside.
It’s basically all I gather before Rose returns with the first-aid kit, Jane in arm, and a pairs of shoes. “I want to talk to Daisy and Lily,” she tells me. Her eyes ping to Willow.
“I’m sorry, Rose—”
“I understand what it means to be loyal,” Rose says, “but you shouldn’t have kept this from us. If you wanted to bring your boyfriend along, we could’ve worked something out.”
“Friend,” Willow amends, paling and avoiding her “friend’s” eyes.
Garrison looks at Rose. “Would it make it better if we were dating?”
I answer, “It would make it exponentially worse.”
He shuts up and hangs his head again, beaten more by his own guilt.
Willow hesitates by the door frame and focuses on Rose. “Can I explain…I want to apologize to Daisy too…?”
Rose nods. “Follow me.” Both girls disappear.
Maybe a minute later, Loren enters the room with candles and Ryke comes in with a broom, already up-to-date thanks to Rose. Since all the girls want to be together, the three of us decide to take care of the mess upstairs.
Loren lights candles around the guest bedroom while Ryke sweeps the glass. I sit on the bed next to Garrison with the first-aid kit.
“I can do that,” he says while I take out the tweezers.
I pass them to him. “You need stitches, and the nearest hospital is more than two hours away.”
Ryke sweeps harder, pissed off since Garrison scared Daisy for a second time, but he’s not about to say: I’m not fucking driving him. He would drive Garrison. He’d drive anyone to the hospital because he cares too deeply about human lives.
I’m not that way with just anyone, but I appreciate when other people fill the role.
Garrison seems to grind his teeth back and forth, his eyes clouding, and he glances quickly at me. “Can you stop watching me?” His voice is as serrated as Loren Hale’s.
“I could, but I’m waiting for you to answer me.”
He nervously inspects his foot, the tweezers hovering above the glass. He says something under his breath that I can’t hear.
“What was that?” I ask, easing the tone of my voice for him.
His nose flares and he shouts, “I’m not going to the hospital!” He jabs the tweezers towards the door. “I promised her I wouldn’t ruin the relationships she’s made with any of you—and if I go to the hospital, people will see you, take stupid pictures, and everyone will know whatever nowhere-ville state we’re in. So no, I’m not going.” He takes a strained breath and focuses back on his foot, jaw tight.
He has a heart. And maybe he has learned from his mistakes. Enough for me to forgive him for his past transgressions? It may take longer for me to want to spend my time on him, but I can forgive. I can give him that.
“Relax,” Lo snaps. “We’re not going to force you to do something you don’t want, but I would like to know why you’re here.”
Ryke crouches to sweep the glass into a dustpan, his face darkening. “If he’s here to get laid—”
“What?” Garrison cringes. “No.” He recoils at Lo’s glare. “Not that I don’t like Willow.”
Ryke joins in on glaring at him, so he turns to me for comfort. My face is welcoming among the hard and rough edges of Ryke Meadows and the sharp and jagged ones of Loren Hale.
Garrison says with bite, “Some starship trooper nerd asked her to prom, okay?”
“Declan,” Lo says. “You know who he is. Lily told me that he stops by Superheroes & Scones at least four times a week.”
“To try to talk to Willow,” Garrison complains. “And what the fuck kind of name is Declan?”
“What the fuck kind of name is Garrison?” Lo retorts.
Garrison rolls his eyes and sighs heavily. “Whatever.”
Garrison hid in a duffel bag in a trunk for twelve hours, and he doesn’t seem the type to go to that length just for a girl. I cut in, “As amusing as all of this is, we’re still no closer to answers, and I’d like them sometime in the next five minutes.”
Ryke dumps the glass into a trash bag and then disappears into the bathroom. Lo kneels beside the bed and gestures for the tweezers from Garrison.
He hesitates and then relinquishes them to him.
“Is there anything we can use to sew up the cut in there?” Lo nods to the first-aid kit.
Garrison relaxes further at the idea that we’re not going to the hospital.
“We can find an alternative if that’s what he really wants,” I say. I’m sure we can suture the wound ourselves, but it’s not going to be pretty.
Garrison nods. “That’s what I want.”
Ryke returns with a cup of water and hands it to Garrison. I pass him a packet of Advil, the best we have to stop the pain.
Garrison looks between us, and strangely he seems like he might cry, maybe just overwhelmed. “I thought you two hated each other?” He gestures from Ryke to me. Based off tabloids, it would appear that way.
Ryke answers before I do, “We’re good friends.” I’d label us in a similar manner. Not just friends, but a friend that I count on, rely on, a person that I need in my life.
Garrison grows quiet, eyes fixed on the carpet.
“What is it?” I ask, unable to read the sentiments beneath his features.
He shakes his head and tears open the packet. “I was just thinking…I don’t even know where I find the kind of friendship that you three have. My friends are dicks.” He lets out a short, pained laugh. “I’m one too…”
I glance at Ryke and Lo. Through years of ups and downs, fights and riffs between us, we’ve each become closer, and they’ve both taught me valuable things: how to be selfless and how to bear the pain in love.
I don’t live for money or for titles or achievements like I used to.
I live for people.
There is nothing greater than that.
“We’re all assholes,” Lo tells Garrison. “But one day, you’ll meet an asshole that pushes you to be a better person. Those are the ones that stick with you.”
Garrison rubs his eyes once, trying to hide the movement from sight. Then he downs the pills with a swig of water.
“We’re encroaching on my five-minute time limit,” I tell him.
His throat bobs. “I needed a place to crash…I’ve been sleeping in the breakroom at Superheroes & Scones for the past month. But I found out that Lily planned to install more video cameras in the store…I just…I don’t know. I couldn’t think of anywhere to go.”
I’ve already compiled a list of five places that seemingly should outrank where he is now. “Your parent’s house,” I suggest.
He licks his chapped lips. “They think I’m at Faust. You went there, right?”
I nod. “And why aren’t you there?” Lightning cr
acks outside the windowpane, the thunderstorm still raging on.
“I flunked out in April…” He tugs his hoodie’s string harder. “Most of the senior classes are college-level, you know that?”
