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“What do you think?”
“Annoying me? Stalking me? Treating me like a child instead of a grown woman? You’re not my father, FYI.”
“No, but I’m here in his stead—and your father is freaking out,FYI.”
“Only because you had to go make a big deal about stuff. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“A text or two might have calmed things down, you know, but you had to go incommunicado.” He lowers himself to the bench. “Scoot over.”
I sigh, perhaps a bit dramatically—or perhaps not dramatically enough. This is truly the worst possible scenario. Sliding over, I remember my bruised hands and tuck them between my thighs.
He clasps his hands on the table, his gaze encompassing both me and Marco again. “So. What’s up?”
If looks could kill, I’d be planning my brother’s funeral, true story. The stony fury on Marco’s face is unnerving. He was already on edge, making this the worst of all times for Tripp to show up. “How’d you know where to find us anyway? Are you tracking my phone?”
“No, I am not.” He clears his throat. “That would be illegal.”
Marco snorts.
I look between the two of them. There’s a story somewhere in there, I think.
Marco folds his big arms, more jacked even than my brother’s. “I’ll tell you how he found us. He set us up.”
Tripp seems to settle into the seat. “You didn’t think I’d send you a lead and not check it out myself, did you?”
“I didn’t think you’d do anything on my behalf.”
Tripphmms.“And yet, I sent you information just last night. Interesting take on things, Gonzalez.”
I have to admit Tripp has a point. Further, while I would never, at least not in this moment, say I told you so¸I believe I did tell Marco that very thing only this morning.
“I figured I needed to take care of this one myself.”
“Well, you figured wrong.” The declaration has the feel of an arrow hitting its mark.
Marco stares out the window, his cheek caught in his teeth. Figuring he needs a moment, I elbow Tripp. “Are you sure you’re not tracking my phone? How did you find ushere?”
“You want to tell her how, pardner?”
“Shut up.”
Tripp chuckles, though, personally, I don’t think this is the time for laughter, and he’s the only one feeling it. “Your newfriendis a sucker for breakfast food. He’d eat it three meals a day if he could. And IHOP is his favorite.”
Still…
“The way I had it figured, you guys drove in from New Mexico this morning…?”
He lifts an eyebrow, but neither Marco nor I give him confirmation because he’s being super annoying and know-it-all. I, for one, learned years ago never to give him the satisfaction of being right. It’s a sibling thing, I suppose.
“We just got into town a little while ago ourselves. Dropped by Winburn’s apartment. He told me he’d spoken with you on campus. I’ll confess you were a little ahead of schedule. I’d planned to wait for you outside his place. Once I knew I’d missed you, I headed for campus, but then I saw IHOP…and had a hunch.”
Ugh. Distance may make the heart grow fonder, but it does nothing for making annoying older brothers less so.
The silence around the table is like a cloud of noxious gas draping us all. Something Tripp said niggles my subconscious, but I can’t place what it is.
Until I glance toward the front of the restaurant and the entrance to the bathrooms.
We.
