My phone informed me that it was 3:23 a.m., plenty of time for my friends to get here before my lie-rents woke, even my not-dad for his morning jog.
I wasn’t sure, however, that it would be enough time to deal with the … situation.
My friends arrived all together, all at once, at 3:33 a.m. Only ten minutes had elapsed. It felt like a thousand while I waited to seewhowould walk through my door.
I was mostly certain I was right, but only mostly. The small chance that I was wrong was … terrifying.
What happened when the person who’d supposedly gifted someone with immortality was the one to … kill him? What happened if I’d actually ended Griffin? And if I hadn’t, was Griffin all right?
Griffin was the first to barrel across my threshold, breathing heavy, his eyes roving around my now-dimly-lit room. They bulged when they skimmed across the bodies:
A very dead man who lookedexactlylike him.
And Bobo, unmoving but with a heartbeat—thank fuck—limp at the foot of my bed.
Brady, Hunt, and Layla, who gripped an open jackknife, piled up behind Griffin.
Layla asked while considering the corpse on my carpet, inching toward it with the open blade. She shook her head as if to clear it.
Hunt said before I could answer, shutting the door quietly behind him.
All four of my friends exhaled loudly in relief.
—I pointed at the dead man who looked so very much like the last man I’d ever want to hurt—
Layla asked again.
Hunt squatted beside the body.
Brady kicked the body in the leg. No movement, not even by reflex.
Griffin lowered himself onto the bed next to me, his thigh pressed against mine, and draped an arm around my shoulders.
I flinched.
He’d been leaning toward me. Now his body straightened like an arrow.
he accused silently, glaring at the body on the floor—a reflection of himself.
Hunt, Brady, and Layla yanked their stares toward me.
Brady stalked to the bed, sinking down on my other side, a snoring Bobo beside him. Anger radiated off him already, like heat waves.
I swallowed, forced myself to relax and lean into Griffin—therealGriffin.
Hunt crouched in front of me, tension corded along his neck while he, too, anticipated my answer.
Finally, I shook my head and looked down. My loose hair curtained my face to hide how close he’d come to really hurting me.
I asked.
Hunt said.
Layla said.
