“Kid, do I look like the kind of guy who does those things?”
“I figured. You wouldn’t be at our doorstep if you were. Clara is in a bit of a sticky situation. She’s currently engaged to one of our other roommates, Trips.”
Her dad stops on the sidewalk. “My Clara-girl’s engaged? And the guy didn’t ask me first? Wait, aren’t you my daughter’s boyfriend?”
I stop too, weighing how much to tell him. “It’s complicated. Before I tell you more, I need to know if you can keep a secret from your wife.”
“Maggie? Why?”
“Because Clara doesn’t trust her. If you do, there’s not much more I can tell you.”
Her dad looks me over, then lets me lead him two blocks to Dinkytown, ending up inside the same coffee shop Clara worked at before. We both get drinks, then sit at a table on the sidewalk, watching nervous students rushing toward their first day of classes. He sighs, looking me over.
“I love my wife, kid. But I get why Clara doesn’t want to share whatever is going on with her. Can you answer one questionfirst? Then I’ll decide if I’m keeping secrets. Is Clara safe right now?”
Shit. To hell if I know. “We’re doing what we can, but we can’t communicate with them, and it’s a dangerous situation.”
His eyes squeeze shut, the cup in his hand trembling. “I know I haven’t been a perfect dad. I tried to take care of her, to show her how special she is, but I couldn’t be there all the time. Picking up all those extra shifts, trying to make enough for the rent, for her mom to have nice bags and shoes sometimes so she could feel like she was part of her old life, it didn’t leave as much time for Clara as I’d wanted. But now that Clara’s stepped back, I can see how bad Maggie’s gotten. I thought she was only mad at me, at the sacrifices she made for me. I never dreamed she’d take it out on our little girl. But she did. And I didn’t keep her safe from it.”
He opens his eyes, looking across at me. “Will me knowing what’s going on help or hurt what you’re doing? Because I’m not going to hurt her again, not if I can help it.”
I hand him my phone. “Give me your number. If there’s something you need to know, I’ll tell you. And if you get invited to the wedding, go, but know she won’t be the girl you remember. She’s someone else right now.”
He types in the number, handing it back. “I never thought my big-time college girl would end up a grifter with a society page wedding.”
“Not all that glitters is gold,” I warn, and his gaze grows dark.
“Don’t I know it.” He stands, offering me his hand, a finger shaped bruise peeking out from under his shirtsleeve. “Take care of her, as best as you can.”
“I will.”
He takes a few steps, then turns. “If your blond friend comes to visit again, tell him not to. We’re being evicted, so he’d be visiting strangers.”
Goddammit. That was one of the promised ‘sticks’ from Trips’ father, only one step from sending Jansen to jail. “I’m sorry,” I say, my heart thudding against my ribs. We haven’t had any contact, but that’s a bad sign.
“We’ll make it work. It’s not like we needed the two bedrooms anymore.” Sadness washes over him, and it echoes the grief I’m shoving into a safe little box myself. He walks away, leaving me with a swirl of emotion that threatens to drown me.
I finish my drink, some frou-frou coffee I got because it reminded me of Clara, then wander back to the house, both aching and dreading seeing her after so long, hoping Jansen is well enough to do what needs to happen. Terrified of what other consequences there might have been for them over the last few weeks.
A pink envelope leans against the door, and I add annoyance to the pile of emotions. Opening the envelope, the now familiar all-caps scrawl from Bryce scrapes across a picture of the gate in front of the Westerhouse estate. The message is simple this time: ‘Welcome back.’
I toss it into the garbage. He’s the least of our problems right now.
I take a moment, wishing I could be her protector. I’m faster, stronger, more capable than before, but I’m still an artist at heart. Sensation, decadence, color and light drive me, not breaking bones and wrestling smelly meatheads into submission.
But I will be who I need to be to keep her safe. With my words and my smile, I can trick nearly as well as with my art.
It will have to be enough.
Chapter 62
Trips
The sun is bright in the sky when the door to the white room clicks open. Falk motions me over, my eyes gritty after three hours of fitful sleep on the hardwood floor. “I take it we’re putting in an appearance on campus?” I ask as I pass him.
He grunts and points down the hallway, unlocking the door to the blue room. “You guys have thirty minutes to get dressed. Then I’ll be back with Smith to bring you two to the U. Tuesdays and Thursdays you’ll be sharing a ride, Mondays and Wednesdays I get you and Smith has her.” His eyes darken, telling me how much he hates that division, and something truthful colors the air between us.
“Got it.”
