Split Second

“You think you’re tough, princess?” He was so close I could smell the musky scent of his deodorant. I glared at him. As if I needed someone else to show me I had no control today.

I’d show him how much control I had.

I looked down and then back up through my lashes. “I’m sorry. Thank you for Healing me. It’s just been a really bad day.” Step one: Seem vulnerable. Check. I wrung my hands together and then “accidentally” let them catch the bottom of his shirt. I pulled back when I realized, giving a little laugh. “Sorry.” I reached out and touched his chest with my apology, pretended to hesitate, then put my hand back and left it there. Step two: Contact. Check. “It was my dad.”

“What was your dad?” His breath came quick now, and I could feel the rise and fall of his chest beneath my hand.

“He stole the money. For suppressors.”

“Your dad stole your money?”

I nodded. Step three: Share something personal. Check. He leaned toward me. So the impenetrable Connor wasn’t as immune to me as I thought he was.

Step four: Draw his attention to my mouth. I bit my bottom lip. His eyes flicked to my lips and then back to my eyes. Check. And step five would normally be: Reel him in for a fun, forget-all-my-problems make-out session. But since I couldn’t do step six with him—Erase his memories—I had to stop there. His eyes again went to my lips, and this time my heart picked up speed. I took a deep breath to control it.

“What’s your dad’s ability?” he asked.

Crap. In my attempt to play him, I had told him something real.

I stretched up a little, toward his face. He leaned closer. His breath touched my cheeks. It smelled hot and sweet. I blinked and reminded myself that I was proving I had control over him, not the opposite.

If I knew one thing about Connor, it was that he had a lot of pride. If I wanted to assert my control and make sure he never, ever came this close to kissing me again, I just had to do one thing. Make him feel stupid.

“My dad didn’t steal my money.” I gave a single laugh. “But you should see your face right now. You totally bought that.”

I thought he’d jerk away, be angry, but the smugness in his eyes made me think that he was the one playing me.

“Can I ask you something?” Connor said, still not moving away from the space where our breath mingled.

I felt myself nod, even though I had meant to play stoic.

He moved a millimeter closer. His bottom lip brushed ever so softly against mine and sent a chill up my spine. “Can I have my shirt back so I can go?”

Horrified, I looked down at my hand. It held a tightly clutched fistful of his T-shirt. So had I been the one pulling him toward me the whole time? I let go and stepped back up into my truck, swallowing the bitter taste of humiliation.

“Laila,” he said, but I didn’t give him a chance to finish. I slammed the door and pressed my thumb against the starting pad.

CHAPTER 19

Addie: Can cardboard have blocking capabilities?

It took two days watching my dad every time he pulled out his phone to finally figure out his password. So that night, after giving him plenty of time to fall asleep, I retrieved his phone again and brought it back to my room. I sat cross-legged on my bed and entered in his code. The wallpaper on his phone was a picture of me sticking my tongue out at him. It almost made me feel bad about stealing his phone to get information. Almost.

I clicked on Contacts and held my breath. My name was first on his list, followed by several people I didn’t recognize. Probably coworkers. But just in case, I wrote down the name and address of any contact I didn’t know. Then there were some names I did recognize from back home, friends of my parents. My mom was in there, which shouldn’t have seemed weird, but it did. By the time I got to the end of his list, I had written down five people altogether. I could handle researching five people.

I zipped my hoodie higher against the chill in the air and looked up and down the street again for the bus. The schedule had said one stopped every fifteen minutes, but I’d been standing there for twenty and hadn’t seen a single bus pass. Considering it was the middle of winter, it could’ve been much colder. It was Dallas, after all. But standing outside in my light jacket with the wind blowing was causing a chill. I pulled out my phone and checked the map again. Maybe I could walk to one of the addresses from here. The little red dots on the map, indicating each location, assured me I couldn’t.

The sound of a car idling on the street made me look up. The passenger-side window rolled down, and Trevor leaned over. “Addison. Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Do you need a ride somewhere?”

“No. I’m good.”

He looked at the pole next to me, and I did as well. A sign showing the bus schedule was posted there. “This is the downtown bus.”

I nodded. Two of the addresses were downtown, and I figured I should go there first.

“Are you going to the cemetery again?”

That’s right. The cemetery was downtown. Maybe Trevor could drop me off, and I could walk from there. “Yes.”

He moved his head once to the side, indicating I should get into his car.

I hesitated for one second, then opened the door. He moved a duffel bag from the passenger seat into the back, and I sat in its place. “Thanks.” I buckled and ran my hands over my thighs, trying to warm up.

“No problem.” He flipped his blinker on, then pulled onto the road.

A chill ran down my body. He reached forward, turned a knob on the dash, and then aimed one of the vents at me. Warm air hit my neck and cheeks.

I picked a subject before he had a chance. “How is your comic coming?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m thinking about letting my brother take over. He’s already a better drawer than I am.”

“He is good. But I’d have to see your work to compare.”

“You already told me you were impressed I drew comics. I wouldn’t want to risk you changing your mind by showing you the product.”

“True. My opinion is right up there with the top comic critics in the world.” I paused. “Wait. Are there such things as comic critics?”

He laughed. “Yes, there are actually.”

His smile was contagious. It made me want to smile back. He glanced over at me after changing lanes, and I quickly averted my gaze. My eyes landed on his duffel bag in the backseat.

“Oh no. You were on your way somewhere, weren’t you? I’m sorry. You can take me back. Really, I don’t mind waiting.”

He didn’t slow down at all with my suggestion. “It’s okay. I was just on my way to the gym. I can go later.”

My eyes went to his arms with his mention of the gym. This time he wore a T-shirt, and I could clearly see this trip must’ve been a daily routine. I looked away before he caught me staring at his arms again. “Aren’t you cold?”

“My sweatshirt is in the back.” It was quiet for a while. He pulled onto the freeway. After driving in silence for several miles, he said, “I’m not crazy.”

“I know.” Not this again. Tension immediately spread across my chest. “You brought a sweatshirt, so clearly you’re not.”

“That’s not what I mean. I know what I saw. You can move fast. Beyond fast.”

“Fast?” I put on my best skeptical voice. “What are you talking about?”

He took in two deep breaths and stared straight ahead. “I know what I saw.”

My eyes stung. Why had I gotten in the car with him? I didn’t like this at all. Trevor was a nice guy, and I felt terrible making him feel this way. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“The truth would be nice.” He pulled into the right lane and exited the freeway.

I wished I could tell him the truth. But I knew I couldn’t. “If you believe that’s what you saw, there’s not much I can say.”

The statues came into view. He parked the car and turned toward me, his eyes pleading.

His stare nearly undid me, almost made me confess to every lie I’d ever told in my life. When my head started to swim, I realized I hadn’t taken a breath since he faced me. I blindly reached for the door handle, fumbled with it for a few seconds, then pushed myself out of his car.

“Thanks for the ride. I’ll see you later,” I said, then quickly shut the door and walked toward the cemetery. I reached the first tree, ducked behind it, and let my breathing return to normal. Trevor had some kind of hold on me, and I couldn’t figure out what.

The first address on my list was one of my dad’s coworkers. I recognized him from the Thanksgiving party we’d gone to at Stephanie’s house. So after politely telling him I had the wrong address, I headed for the second red dot on my phone map, an apartment building ten blocks from the cemetery.

The apartment number was 314, so I waited by the elevators to head up to the third floor. They were taking forever and I was feeling impatient, so I found the door marked Stairs instead. The stairwell was dimly lit and in need of a paint job—maybe the reason they kept it dimly lit. The echo of every step I took bounced off the walls. I made it to the third floor and stepped out into the hall.

A sign indicating that 314 was to my left was mounted on the wall. I followed it. I knocked on the door. Nobody answered. I knocked again, harder this time. Just as I turned away, the door swung open.

“Hi, I was—” My sentence stopped in my mouth as I turned back to face the man now standing in front of me—my grandfather.

My supposedly dead grandfather.

I bit back a scream, and my heart doubled its speed. I stuttered out something incomprehensible.

His mouth curved into a smile, and he said softly, “Addie.” Then he pulled me against him in a crushing hug.

My arms, not sure what to do at first, stayed stiffly at my sides. But as memories filled my mind and my eyes filled with tears, I wrapped them around his waist.

“You’re . . .” Alive, I wanted to say, but my throat closed up and the tears spilled from my eyes.

He pushed me out by my shoulders and took my face in his hands, searching every inch of it. “Look at you. You’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful.”

My cheeks went hot. He looked just like I remembered him—white hair and blue, smiling eyes. A few fresh tears found their way down my face.

A movement out of the corner of my eye caused him to let go of my face and both of us to turn.

“And who’s this?” he asked.

I quickly wiped at my cheeks. Trevor stood at the end of the hall.

He walked forward. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to leave you downtown alone. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m good. You can go now.”

My grandfather spoke up. “Does your father know you’re here, Addie?”

“No.”

“Stay.” He shut the door in my face.

Great, was he going to go call my father? I turned to Trevor. “Thanks for the ride, but really, I’m good now.”

He looked at the door, as if thinking I was anything but good, standing there staring at a door. “Who is that?”