“No,” I huff. “This is hopeless. I don’t know what you expect us to find. He knew we were coming. If he was up to anything, he would have hidden away any sign of it.”
“Ah, there you are,” my father chimes from down the hall. “I’m sorry, I feel rude. I should have offered to give you two a tour of the house.” He swipes his palm across the back of his head with a nervous smile. “I guess I was just embarrassed,” he confesses shyly. “This isn’t exactly the nicest place I’ve lived, or really the first impression I wanted you to have of me.”
“My first impression of you was putting a bullet through a man’s head, remember?” I respond bitingly before shoving past both of them toward the front door.
I catch a glimpse of Emmett rolling his eyes and sulking behind after me with an exasperated breath.
“Did you want to stay for dinner?” Theo calls out, chasing us towards the door. “I can have my cook whip something up for us.”
“No, thank you,” I state plainly as I storm through the front door. I’m still exhausted from the day before, and I’m beyond ready to go and hopefully never see my father again.
I march out to Emmett’s car and notice the two of them exchanging words in the doorway. “Nice to see you, Ophelia!” he calls out to me with one swift wave. “I promise it won’t be so long until we meet again.”
I want to think he’s making empty promises, but there’s something ominous in his tone. “What does that mean?” I whip back around to him.
“Just that I don’t intend to stay out of the picture forever,” he explains coyly. “I’ll be seeing you around.”
I release a huffy moan and give up, yanking the locked door handle repeatedly.
“Give me a minute!” Emmett snaps as he jumps into the driver’s seat and unlocks my door. “I know you don’t like the guy, but you don’t have to be so hard on him.”
“This whole thing was a waste of time,” I lament, sinking into my seat and crossing my arms.
“No, it wasn’t,” he defends. “I think your father is innocent.”
“What makes you so certain?” I ask in an unconvinced tone.
“I’ve met a lot of bad guys doing a lot of bad things when I was by my father’s side,” he explains. “I can usually spot a guilty man, and your father doesn’t seem like one of them. At least not in terms of Bernadette.”
“Then why was he acting so fucking weird?!” I argue, wishing he would be guilty out of pure spite.
“He’s trying to charm us. I can’t tell you exactly what his motivations are, but he’s not a guy who’s responsible for a missing girl. I just don’t see it in him. You have to trust me on this.” He stops and looks at me. “I’m proud of you,” he says softly.
“For what!?” I shoot back, still feeling angry.
“I know it wasn’t easy for you to come here and see him today,” he explains.
I sink down in the seat. Emmett doesn’t know the half of it. This about more than just my dad. It’s about him and that stupid deal they made. Whatever way Emmett redeems himself, it’s hard to reconcile with his partnership with my father. And I still can’t shake the feeling that Theo will be coming back to get more out of that deal than was originally promised.
Seeing my father does scare me. I’m afraid that whatever part of him made him fit into the Elites is something hereditary that exists in me, too. What if I am just as capable of being selfish and vengeful? To the point that I’d sacrifice others to get what I want. Isn’t that what I’ve been doing? Only feeling motivated to find Bernadette because of my own selfish need for Emmett? I don’t think enough about the fact that she’s his sister or what this is doing to him inside. I’ve been distracting him every step of the way, not helping like I promised.
We’re silent for most of the drive back. Emmett eventually plays me an album from a band he’s been telling me about, claiming he wants to take me to one of their concerts sometime. It feels good to talk about normal things for a bit, but I can’t let go of the greasy feeling leftover from my father’s visit so easily.
As much as I hate to admit it, I think Emmett is right. He may know more about bad people than I do, but I didn’t see any sign of guilt in my father either. He’s up to something, but whatever it is doesn’t seem like it will lead us to Bernadette. And now I am left knowing that once all of this is over, I’ll have to worry about my father trying to show up in my life again, thanks to his departing promise. I can only hope that he just feels bad about never being around and wants to make it right, but something tells me nothing in my life will ever be that simple again.
“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” Emmett asks suddenly.
“Reeling from everything that just happened,” I quip. “Or at least that’s as far as I’ve planned. Why?”
“There’s a Halloween party,” he announces casually. “Wanna go?”
“A party,” I gape. “Wow…I wouldn’t have thought you’d want to go to a party right now…with everything that’s going on.”
“We could use the distraction I think.” He nods. “Maybe relaxing a little will set our heads straight. Give us some clue of what to do next.”
“Sure,” I shrug with a smile. “Let’s go.”
We stop by a second-hand store on the way home to scour through the clothes for some sort of Halloween costumes. We have a blast digging through the racks and trying stuff on.
“Where is this party anyway?” I ask, as I try on a wig.
“This girl from school, Diana,” he replies, straightening the wig for me and planting a soft kiss on my lips. “Her parents are famous musicians. Very wealthy. She always throws these giant parties and makes everyone endure her own nasally performances. But I don’t think she’s going to be as successful as her parents.” He laughs.
“I’m sure they’ll just buy her fame,” I joke.
Emmett and I settle on some vintage clothes that can let us pass as hippies. To him, this is just a way to pass the time and get our minds off of things. But I’m excited for so many other reasons. In my entire time at WJ Prep so far, I have never been invited to a party.
He shoves a pint of liquor into my purse before we walk into the party. The only Halloween decorations to be found are an unlit string of pumpkin lights half-hanging from the edge of the staircase in the living room, where a makeshift stage had been built to accommodate each of the musicians taking turns singing slow, steady acoustic songs.
Emmett quickly gets caught up talking to a group of guys, and I am left standing on my own awkwardly, realizing maybe I hadn’t been missing out on much by not getting invited to these things. He finally turns back to me and says they’re going to go check out Diana’s brother’s new car.
I’m not on my own long before a familiar tall, slender figure approaches. Malcolm. He’s holding a PBR and his icy blue eyes light up with a kind smile as soon as he sees me. Everything seems to slow down a little.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says coyly as he slides into a standing position next to me against the wall.
“Why’s that?” I shoot back.
“I never see you at parties,” he explains.
“I’m never invited,” I scoff.
“Well…glad you got invited this time.” He smiles, stumbling slightly as we both laugh.
“Somebody’s drunk,” I snort.
“No, I swear. Just hopelessly clumsy.” He flashes an adorably sly boyish grin. “Okay, and maybe a little drunk.”
“Hoping to join you soon,” I reply as I raise the pint from my purse in cheers before taking a big, long swig.
He’s standing too close with a light in his eyes that’s making me feel uneasy.
“I like your costume.” He points to my long-tasseled suede vest.
I peer at him from the corner of my eye, noting the way he’s looking me up and down. I don’t know if it’s the swigs of liquor I am taking every so often, or just the desperation of feeling awkward and alone at a party, but I don’t feel nearly as defensive towards him as I normally would. Which is dangerous, considering Emmett is right outside and could be back at any time.
“What are you supposed to be?” I ask, examining him and coming up empty at guesses.
“A computer hacker.” He grins.
“Oh, so yourself…” I laugh when he nods, realizing that’s why he’s wearing his regular clothes.
Silence falls and I can feel him staring at me again. “Hey, you got something…” His hand reaches up towards my face, “Just, uh…mind if I?...” I awkwardly flinch back. He licks his index finger before pressing it to my cheek to remove a lone eyelash. He holds it out before us. “Make a wish.”
Feeling a growing buzz from my drink and his suddenly handsome presence come over me, I press my fingers to the cold spot burning on my cheek. We both blow until the lash vanishes.
“Malcolm,” a voice booms out suddenly.
“Oh, hey, Emmett,” he replies innocently, rubbing his hand down the back of his neck.