He clearly followed us home.
I don’t know if that’s a red flag. Maybe, but I can’t call it bad, not when my entire body is still shaking from how terrified I was to face my dad.
After a while, Zephyr pulls into a driveway. A house with a garage. Small. Single-story. Normal.
Jax and Zephyr both get out and open our doors.
I look at Zephyr as I step out, thanking him. He’s watching me carefully with his curious brown eyes. Something about the way he looks at me makes my stomach flip. But I look away and follow Jax toward the front door.
The house on the inside is normal. A black couch, a coffee table, and a flat-screen TV mounted on the wall.
Jax gestures to the couch, so Zinnia and I sit.
Zephyr brings us two glasses of water and sets them on the coffee table.
“Bathroom’s down the hall,” Jax says. “First door on the left.”
“Thank you,” I say.
Zephyr turns on the TV. A cartoon for Zinnia fills the silence.
But it’s awkward. Tense.
Jax and Zephyr stand near the kitchen. Not hovering. Just there.
Jax clears his throat. “You can stay as long as you need. We have an extra bedroom.”
Zephyr says, “It’s an office with a bed.”
“Thank you.” I pause. “I don’t think we’ll stay.”
Jax looks at Zephyr. Then back at me.
“You want to go back home tonight?”
I nod.
But even as I nod, my gut is screaming at me not to.
Dad will be waiting, and he’ll be angrier than before. He’ll have had time to work himself up. To decide what he’s going to do to me.
And now he knows about Jax. Number 39. The boy I swore I didn’t know.
He’ll think I lied.
He’ll make me pay for it.
Maybe he’ll go after Jax too. Show up at his house. The University. The hockey rink. A hockey game. Wherever he can find him.
My chest tightens.
Zinnia curls into my side, and I wrap my arm around her.
The TV plays Despicable Me, and I’m thankful for the Minions. They’re lightening the mood. I find myself smiling despite the pure dread coursing through me.
Jax and Zephyr move to the other side of the room, giving us space. But I can feel them watching. Not in a creepy way. More like they’re waiting.
I touch my pocket—
