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I need a minute to process everything. Everything other than Grant. I can't se
em to function around him at all, so I'm not going to waste my thoughts on what the hell that all meant. I need to figure out why Niall's so evasive about how he knows my mother. Why he's been representing me for years for free without me realizing it. And who's paying for my tuition to Blackwood, since Brendan is obviously hung up on that one.
Which brings me to Brendan, who is also represented by Niall. And he's fixated on these details more than I am. Why does he care so much? And truthfully, why should I? The answers to these questions won't clear my name and make sure Vic gets what's coming to him--without involving my friends. That should be my priority. The rest of this is just an unnecessary distraction.
Except ... I can't stop thinking about the bomb Brendan dropped on me on the shuttle, that someone killed his mother. And Niall may know who.
Maybe I should talk to him, just once.
"Did you forget your combination?"
I startle.
"Oh no. I'm just out of it this morning." I realize I've been standing in front of my locker, staring, when Kaely walks up beside me.
"Ashton?" she asks, as if that's the only explanation needed. Guess everyone knows about her recreational habits.
"Actually, no." I realize she's already dressed in her uniform. "Sorry, I'll be fast. Meet you down there?"
"Sure." She smiles and walks out of the locker room, her thick, wavy auburn ponytail swaying behind her.
When I grab my Grille uniform out of the locker, a piece of paper flutters to the floor. The side that lands up is blank. I bend to pick it up and find written in red capital letters:
The lines are neat and precise as if they were drawn with a ruler. I don't know why my first instinct is to look around the locker room, but I do. Like the person who wrote it might be lurking in some corner, watching. But it's empty, until three girls enter, laughing and chatting. They separate to go to their lockers to change for this shift.
"You okay?" one asks from the locker a few down from mine.
"Yeah," I reply, shutting my locker. Before she can say anything else, I take my uniform into the dressing area to change.
First the message on the wall, now this. It has to be the same person. Someone who knows what happened? That's the only thing that makes sense. But then, who's him? I groan in frustration. Whoever's fucking with me is doing a shitty job with their threats because I don't know what the hell they mean! Be specific, Crazy!
I see Brendan walking toward the golf carts ahead of me and jog to catch up.
"Are you doing this?" I shove the note at him.
He takes it from me and reads it. "My, you move fast, don't you, Lana."
"What?"
"Looks like a jealous girl warning you off of her man."
"That's stupid. I just got here and have barely spoken with anyone besides you. Do you have any psycho exes I should know about?"
Brendan scoffs. "I don't do girlfriends, exactly for this reason." He hands back the note. "Watch yourself. Whoever she is, she doesn't like you."
"She? You're the only one who knows anything about me--illegally, but still."
"I don't play mind games."
"Liar." He's a master at mind games; that was obvious on day one.
"Not like this." He nods toward the note in my hand. "I'm open to sharing what I know, when you agree to do the same. Ambiguous threats aren't my style."
He walks away, approaching a man with a hideous checkered hat and a bulging stomach. They shake hands and Brendan gets in the driver's seat of the golf cart. I now notice he's dressed in pressed khakis and a navy polo shirt with KCC embroidered on the chest. He pulls on a white baseball hat before pulling away.
He's a caddie. His job is to help members play golf. Bullshitting all day. How appropriate.
I don't know which door is the service entrance to get into The Grille, so I approach the counter where Kaely is handing an ice cream to a dripping wet boy in a bathing suit.
