Something had changed.
Still holding me, he rocked me back and forth and asked close to my ear, “You okay?”
I clasped on to him and whispered back, “I think so.”
“Good.” One more tight squeeze, and then he let me go. He tapped on my chin. “You’re back at your old job, huh?”
Laughing, I hit his arm. “I am. Want to walk me home?”
He made a tsking sound and shook his head. “You’re a little slow on this friendship thing. Walking home with you is a requirement of being the best bud.” He cocked his head to wink down at me. “Especially if there’s wine at the end of the walk.” He held his elbow out, and after a slight hesitation, I linked mine with his. My apartment was a few blocks away, and after a really long time, I was glad that Jake was with me. As we headed down the sidewalk, I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder.
Was Kian still out there? Was he watching?
More importantly, what did he want with me?
The liquor store was on the way home, so we stopped to get wine in case there wasn’t any at home. I couldn’t remember, and when we got to my apartment, Erica squealed over the wine. She didn’t seem excited to see Jake, but didn’t say anything. As soon as there was an opening, I excused myself and slipped away to my bedroom. Grabbing my phone, I perched on my window frame. There was enough room, so I could completely sit there. I pulled my knees to my chest, and then I opened my phone.
I needed to call Snark and report Kian’s arrival, but when I opened my phone, instead of seeing the blank screen that I usually did, there was a text message.
I didn’t recognize the number.
I’d like to talk.
That was it, nothing more, but I knew whom it was from. A little flutter started in my chest.
“They’re going to blame everything on you.”
Hearing Snark’s reminder, I ignored Kian’s text and sent Snark a text instead.
Need to talk. He texted me.
I held the phone, waiting, and it buzzed seconds later.
Same booth. Now.
I knew if I made up an excuse to leave the apartment, Jake would go with me. He’d even go to hold tampons if I used the feminine hygiene route, so I went a different way.
I ninja-ed my way from my bedroom. Literally.
I faked being sick, even pretending that I had to vomit suddenly from the doorway. My performance was Oscar-worthy. I grabbed my stomach, held my breath long enough to start seeing some stars, and made a mad dash to the bathroom. After that, Erica did all the work. If there was one thing my roommate hated, it was puking. She was the one to ban me to my room for the night, and once that was done, I was good to go.
Still. To be safe, I locked the door and shoved a chair underneath the doorknob. Heading for the window, I climbed onto the fire escape and left a quarter between my window so it looked closed, but wasn’t. It would shut, but it wouldn’t lock me out.
Hurrying down till the last step in the stairs, it wasn’t close enough to jump, so I climbed the rest of the way. My building was old, so there were grooves in the brick wall, big enough where I could put my hands and feet. Once my feet touched ground, I grabbed a cab, and when I got to Mel’s Diner, Snark was already there. Again.#p#分页标题#e#
Sliding into my side of the booth, I didn’t ask. I grabbed his cup of coffee and put some creamer in there.
“Hey.” He dropped a newspaper he’d been reading. “That’s mine.”
“Not this time.” I placed my phone onto the table.
Snark’s gaze fell to it, and the issue about the coffee was dropped. He pointed to it. “That’s how he contacted you?”
“He texted me.” I slid the phone to him.
He picked it up and read the text before writing down the phone number and giving it back. “That was it?”
I opened my mouth, ready to tell him about the visit, but I couldn’t. The words died in my throat, and I lifted the coffee to take a sip instead. What was I doing? Even though the liquid was likely burning my throat, I didn’t feel it. I was withholding information from him, information that I knew he would freak out about if he knew. Gripping the mug tighter, I forced myself to lower it back to the table. I couldn’t tell him. But why? Why couldn’t I do it?
“Jo?” His eyebrows lifted. He folded his hands in front of him on the table and pinned me down with his gaze. “Was that it?”
“Yes.”
His eyebrows furrowed. “You sure?”
My throat felt pinched, and I swallowed painfully. “Isn’t that enough? You said he’d get in touch with me. Wh-what should I do if he gets in contact with me again?”