Page 60 of Wicked Titan

“Is it the party or the host that’s the problem?” I tease, knowing she isn’t happy that the party is at Elliot’s house. Can’t say I’m thrilled either after my last experience there. “A movie does sound better.”

The back door opens and Nathan steps outside, turning to look back in the house before lethargically walking to us with a tight expression on his face.

“Quinn, can you come inside for a sec?”

I hold my breath when I spot Candace standing near the door with Detective Taylor behind her, as well as someone else I don’t recognize.

“What’s going on?” I blink rapidly as Victoria stands, moving next to me.

“Let’s just go inside and talk.” Nathan lightly presses his palm to my back, but I pull away, my eyes on the detective as he begins walking in our direction.

“Hi, Quinn,” Detective Taylor says as the guy next to him extends his hand, introducing himself as Detective McCoy.

“Where’s Detective Davis?”

“He’s no longer on the case. McCoy is assisting me with it now.” Taylor steps back, motioning to the house. “Let’s go have a seat and we can talk.”

“What’s going on?” My voice is shaky as Nathan moves back beside me. He slowly reaches over, pressing his palm to my back.

“Quinn.” The agony in Nathan’s voice pierces my heart. Then I notice Candace’s tear-stained cheeks. “It’s about your dad. Let’s go inside.”

Jerking away from him, I step back as I see anxious, pitying eyes on me.

No.

This isn’t real.

Detective Taylor takes a slight step forward. “Quinn, I’m sorry. We’ve located your father’s remains.”

Remains? No. Remains means … “No!” The scream that leaves my body doesn’t sound like my own voice. “No. No. No.”

Nathan moves towards me as I throw my arms up, shielding myself from him and everyone’s sympathetic looks.

I bend forward, my hands clutching my chest, heaving as I try to fill my lungs with air.

No. I can’t do this again. I can’t lose him all over. My dad is not dead.

Spinning, I run to run away.

Away from here.

I need my dad.

49

Stretching, I hang on to the rough stone beneath my fingers. I don’t remember the drive here, but I know this is where I’d intended to go. My fingers grip the unforgiving surface as my toe finds the next placement that I know is there. I will myself higher up the side of Chappell Canyon.

My dad is dead.

Gone.

My arm slaps against the harsh rock as I hoist myself up another notch.

My dad is never coming back.

Reaching up with a hard push, I go to grip the next hole that I know is waiting, but my fingers miss the mark, and my chest slams against the unrelenting surface. The air is evacuated out of my lungs just as it had been at the news that my dad’s remains were found.

“Quinn!”