Split Second

I stand. “Yes. Can you give me a ride home after all?”

“Of course.”

I glance over my shoulder, up the stairs toward my grandpa’s apartment. I’ll come back tomorrow. We walk down the remainder of the stairs and I peer out the lobby doors, still not sure whether my grandpa was being paranoid. I don’t see anyone out the wall of windows that line the front of the lobby. So the modified toaster doesn’t work after all. My grandpa is just insane. Is that why my dad didn’t want to tell me about him? He didn’t want me to see him like this? My stomach clenches. Whatever the reason, I’m still angry that my dad kept something this big a secret. Especially after he promised me he wasn’t keeping any other secrets from me.

I don’t stop Trevor when he heads for the lobby doors. I just follow him. Once outside, he points to the right. “I parked a few blocks down.”

Despite feeling like Trevor is safe, I look up and down the street. There is no one waiting to intercept him.

We walk in silence for a few minutes, and then he says, “I still think something is going on. And as you’ve learned, I’m not a very good detective. So maybe you could just tell me.”

“Trevor. Really. It’s nothing.” I’ve never liked having to be dishonest with him, but this is the first time my stomach turns with the lie.

We arrive at his car, and he sighs. He unlocks the door, then walks around to his own side.

“Sorry if you missed your workout for me,” I say when we’re inside.

He runs a hand down his face, his expression seeming to say, And all for nothing.

I snapped out of my Search, keeping my head on my knees, waiting for the sharp pain to radiate in my head, but only an uncomfortable pressure developed. That seemed like a good sign. Maybe resting my ability had helped.

“Addison?”

What had I missed? “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? Does your face hurt?”

“No. I’m fine.” My heart raced and I lifted my head, meeting his eyes. They were full of concern.

“Are you sure?”

I stood. “Yes. Can you give me a ride home after all?”

“Of course.”

I glanced over my shoulder, up the stairs toward my grandpa’s apartment. I’d come back tomorrow. We walked down the remainder of the stairs, and when we got to the bottom I looked both ways—first to the lobby and then to the red exit sign at the end of the hall. Why did my entire being want to go the red exit sign way? I tried to tell myself it wasn’t because Trevor almost kissed me when we went that way. It wasn’t because I could change that part of the future and let him.

He took a few steps toward the lobby and then looked back at me. “Are you coming?”

My heart ached, but I forced myself to take a step in the direction of the lobby. “Yes.”

I changed one little thing from how I had seen it play out. Instead of forcing myself to walk a foot away from him to the car like I had in this version of the Search, I let our arms brush all the way to the passenger-side door. It didn’t change the fact that he still got upset when I wouldn’t tell him anything. He drove me home in silence. As I watched him drive away, I stood wishing I would’ve taken the other path.

CHAPTER 22

Laila: Sitting in the dark is bad.

Connor looked at my upturned hand. “I thought the emotion you were channeling with my presence was hatred.”

It took every ounce of self-control not to yank my hand away. It took all the coldheartedness I’d learned over the years to keep my face passive. “It is, but the closer you are, the more disgust I feel.” I flexed my fingers. “Hurry.”

I wasn’t sure if he bought my well-delivered lie, but he grabbed my hand. The problem was that now I really was annoyed with him. Now my heart didn’t speed up like it normally did when he so much as brushed my arm with his. Now I just wanted to leave.

He shifted his hold on my hand and one by one laced his fingers between mine. The glowing light of my phone clicked off with inactivity, and his face became shrouded in shadows.

“Your dad really stole your money, didn’t he?”

It seemed easier to tell the truth in the dark. “Yes.”

“Why?”

“He’s addicted to suppressors. He’s a Telepath.”

I felt his body move as he nodded his head.

“Why are you doing this for Addie?”

The city lights across the river seemed to flicker. “Because she’s my best friend.”

He cleared his throat. “I don’t buy that.”

“I never asked you to. It’s the truth.”

“There’s more.”

“I screwed her over. Made out with her boyfriend while she was still with him. I owe her this.”

“Duke.”

“Yes.”

He was quiet for a while, seeming to consider whether he wanted to tell me something. “I know you want me to restore her memory, but believe me, neither you or she would want that.”

“But I do want that, and actually, she wrote a note to herself. . . . She wants it as well.”

He sighed. “Does it get tiring?”

“What?”

“Always thinking you’re right.”

I smiled. “No, not really. It’s other people not realizing I’m right that gets tiring. Now talk. Why wouldn’t we want you to?”

“If I Healed Addie’s mind, anyone’s mind, everything that had ever been Erased would come back.”

“That’s fine. The one she wants back is the only one I’ve ever Erased.”

“The only one you’ve ever Erased. You’re not the only Memory Eraser in the Compound.”

“She doesn’t know any other Memory Erasers.”

“But I’m sure her parents do.”

“You think her parents had some of her memories Erased?”

“I think most parents alter their children’s life experience. They think they’re doing us a favor. But it’s not just Erased memories that my ability would restore, it’s suppressed memories, forgotten memories, memories of every image she ever saw. There’s a reason Healers are used in torture. Not even a strong mind would be able to handle it.”

I had no idea, but it made sense. “Yeah, I guess I don’t want to subject Addie to torture . . . do I?”

“Believe me, you don’t.”

For a minute I had forgotten about our clasped hands, but now, in the new silence, my entire being seemed to focus on them. I tried to use that energy, but I only felt scattered and flustered. I needed to concentrate, think about something else. And I didn’t want to share any more personal items, so that left him.

“What about you? What’s your story? Why do you sell illegal expansion programs?”

“Because they shouldn’t be illegal. I think the DAA should allow for some competition. It makes for better products.”

“You’re doing this out of goodwill? Connor, the spokesperson for a free-market society? Nice try.”

His hand twitched a little in mine. Just enough for me to know I’d correctly called his bluff.

“What’s the real reason?”

My eyes had adjusted somewhat to the dark, and I saw the muscle in his jaw tighten with the question. “Maybe I want to be kicked out.”

Now that I wasn’t expecting. “What? Why?”

“Then I wouldn’t have to make the choice.”

“What choice?”

“The choice between going or staying.”

Our breaths rose and fell together as I watched him, waiting for him to expound. He didn’t, so I did for him. “You’re hoping someone takes away your power to choose by forcing you to leave the Compound?”

“If I have no choice in the matter, then there’s no guilt.”

“So you want to leave. That’s the issue. You want to be with your dad?”

“I don’t know my dad. So no. I feel trapped here. Limited.”

“Wouldn’t you feel the same out there? You could tell nobody what you can do. You’d have to live in secret. That would be a nightmare.”

Connor flipped our hands so that mine was on top and studied the back of it. “So if you feel terrible about what you did to Addie with Duke, why did you do it? Why do you still hang out with him?”

Okay, apparently we were changing the subject back to me. “We don’t hang out that . . .” I trailed off because Connor gave me a look that said I wasn’t answering his question. So I told him the real reason. “He’s a Mood Controller.”

“I guessed as much.”

“He’s really good at his ability.”

His hand tightened on mine. “He gives you false emotion.”

“It doesn’t feel false when I’m around him. When he’s there, I feel pure happiness. A feeling I can’t get anywhere else.” Why was I telling him all this? I nudged my phone so the light would come back on. It was too dangerous to talk in the dark.

His voice went low. “But it’s fake emotion.”

I shrugged. “It feels the same to me.”

“Then you’ve never felt the real thing, because forced happiness is not the same as real happiness.”

I turned to face him head-on. “And forced choices aren’t the same as real choices,” I said, anger bursting in my chest.

We held each other’s stare, and without meaning to, my body moved an inch closer to him. He reached over with his free hand, took me by the back of the head, and pulled me to him. Our lips collided roughly. As though years of pent-up emotions were waiting to come out, the kiss was hungry and raw. Our hands unclasped, and mine found his hair and entangled themselves there. His hands went to my waist, pulling me off my chair and onto his. My chest expanded, but at the same time, I couldn’t get enough air. I didn’t need air, though. I only needed him. In the midst of it all, a horrible fear struck me that I wouldn’t be able to Erase this. That he’d remember my vulnerability. My desire. My need.

I pulled away.

“That should work,” I said, and backed into my chair again to face my phone. My breath wanted to come rapidly, and I forced the movements of my chest to at least appear calm and even. I tried to ignore my lips, which stung from the kiss. I concentrated on channeling my emotion to reopen the paths I had blocked on the phone. I even closed my eyes to push out the distraction that was Connor. That’s when I felt it, the buzz that hung around me. The energy seemed to vibrate against my body. I forced it all toward the phone. A monotone voice said, “Approximately twenty minutes with traffic.” I opened my eyes again. The red line was back. The blinking dot that represented Addie’s house flashed on and off.

I’d done it.

With Connor.

Whether I’d be able to do it without him was the question. When I went to Dallas in three days, could I give Addie her memories back?

I didn’t want to look at Connor, too afraid of what I would . . . or wouldn’t . . . see. So when his chair shifted as he stood, I didn’t look over.

“If I could Erase that, I would,” I said.