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Wiping a hand over my mouth, I get up, run water in the sink, wash my mouth, my face, stare at my bleary-eyed reflection.
Fuck this.
/> I make my slow way to the living room, and they scramble out of their seats when they see me, making me wonder if I look even worse than I thought.
“I can’t,” I tell them, and I hope they can hear the truth in my voice. “Not today. I’m beat. I’ll go home, sleep, and then I’ll talk about this. Okay? Ginger.” I shake my head when Gigi starts saying I need to stay. “I need to sleep. And I think… I need to call Ross.”
“Ross? Why?” Gigi frowns, turns to Octavia. “What did you tell him?”
“I told you before, nothing,” she says. “Well, apart from my dream.”
“What dream?” Jarett asks.
“About him and Ross.”
“And you told just about everyone about that except me?” Gigi cries out dramatically.
“Only Matt. And Merc.” Octavia juts her chin out, ready for battle.
See? I don’t have energy for this today.
I clear my throat, hoping to defuse the situation. “Look, guys, we’ll talk tomorrow. I promise.”
“Will you?” Gigi shoots me an accusing look. “I’ve been trying and trying to get you to talk—”
“Yes, I will. I want to stop the fucking nightmares more than you do. And if any of this is real, any part of that dream… I need to know.”
To know who that dead woman was. Who killed her. Who the bogeyman is.
“I’ll drive you home,” Jarett says, and I nod. I’m too wiped out to drive, anyway.
“Lead the way,” I mutter, kinda horrified when I slur the words.
I guess ‘wiped’ is an understatement. Grabbing my jacket from the hook at the entrance, I slip out of the house following Jarett, and don’t even think of saying goodbye.
Jarett’s old blue Nissan Versa rolls smoothly, more smoothly than you’d expect from a car almost as old as me. Then again, Jarett’s a decent mechanic, even if he doesn’t work at Matt’s garage anymore, so not that strange after all.
What’s strange is that he’s helping me escape from my well-meaning family, and I’m letting him. That once upon a time I told my sister not to date him, to keep away from him, and now he’s like a brother to me.
Life’s like that, it seems.
Though after a bout of peaceful, merciful silence, he opens his mouth, and says, “This secret Gigi has been keeping for you, what’s that about? I feel as if I’ve skipped episodes in a series.”
With my cheek pressed to the car window, I watch the city flit by and consider ignoring him and also renouncing him. Alas, our brotherly relationship won’t last.
But before I say anything stupid like that—I’m so damn tired, I take no responsibility for what falls out of my mouth tonight—he disarms me, saying:
“You know, Merc… I owe ya.”
Not that his words make any sense. “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t mean like a debt. I don’t see things that way, not anymore. But do you remember when Gigi brought me to your home, when my mom was getting worse and my brother was running around with the gang? Remember that day?
“Jeez, man, I said I don’t remember what happened one night when I was a little kid. I’m not amnesic, not yet anyway. I remember that day, yeah.”
“Right.” Jarett shoots me a quick grin. “You opened the door, and led us in, and made me hot chocolate and… invited me inside.”
I frown at him. “Yeah? You make it sound like a shocking thing.”
