Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Idling at the curb, I check my phone, but there’s still nothing from Meg. Not to my single-word moronic text, not to the summit selfie.
Everett’s everyone is okay gnaws at me.
If Meg is home, safe, why isn’t she talking to me? I decide to try something neutral.
WORLD’S WORST NEIGHBOR:
Greta made the cheer team
Scrubbing my scruffy cheeks, I watch for a reply, but there’s nothing.
Could she be sick?
Could she be ghosting me?
Annaleise’s threat hovers at the back of my mind. Would she tell Meg, just to spite me?
When I put the truck in gear and cruise though the neighborhood, I have to fight the urge to put the pedal down. A sense of déjà vu slowly twists my stomach into knots. Four years ago, I fled this same neighborhood, wounded. Out of control.
I turn onto Lakeshore and increase my speed, the cool evening air whistling through the hole in my back window. I’ll have to visit the junkyard on my next day off, see if they have a replacement. Meanwhile I’ll cover it with cardboard.
Finally, I’m cruising down Agate Beach Drive.
When I get to the top of Meg’s driveway, I pause. Her car is here, so at least I know she didn’t, in fact, crash in the Alaskan wilderness. But my relief is fleeting thanks to the unwelcome alchemy of feelings rising up in its place.
Fuck it.
I drive down and park next to her coupe.
Dusk has fallen, with shadows from the trees casting long stripes across her deck. My phone buzzes on the dash.
EVERETT:
Russ put in a flight plan for Alberta, Canada.
I scratch my scruffy cheeks, thinking about this, but I don’t have all the pieces. The good news is Russet is far from Finn River.
After jumping down from my truck, I climb Meg’s porch. Her door is locked, so I go to the back. A part of me is hoping to see her out in the lake, swimming away her troubles. But there’s no sign of her.
Kody is standing behind her sliding glass door, looking up at me with his big green eyes, swishing his tail. Like he needs to go out, but he’s got his own little door off the laundry room, so it’s not that.
Downstairs in her kitchen and living area, the lights are off, but there’s a soft glow coming from upstairs.
Maybe she misplaced her phone, or it’s broken, or …
I test the sliding glass door, but it’s unlocked. Damn it, that’s not safe.
“Meg?” I call out while Kody curls around my ankles, looking up at me, expectant. “Meg!” I call out again, frustration edging my tone.
Inside the laundry room, I check Kody’s dish. It’s empty, so I measure out his kibble, then take the stairs two at a time. At the top, I pause to listen. Meg’s zesty citrus scent instantly hooks my senses. She’s here. Another pulse of relief sinks through me.
I walk to her bedroom. Her uniform is in a crumpled heap on the floor. She’s sitting on her sheepskin rug with her back resting against the foot of her bed, in nothing but her underwear and a t-shirt.
When I step into the doorway, she glances up. Her crystalline blue eyes are glassy with emotion and her dry lips look frozen in place. She looks so…lost.
Am I the cause?
“Hey,” she says. It comes out soft a whisper, yet it hangs heavy in the air between us.
“Your door was unlocked.” I run a hand through my hair. “Kody was hungry, I…” I stop myself from adding was worried just in time.
She pulls her knees tighter. “Sorry I didn’t text you back. I’m not up for company tonight.”
Her words skim across my thoughts, but I’m too pent up to interpret them. “You just get in? Are you hungry?”
She shakes her head.
Shit, I’m screwing this up. I reach for the doorframe above me and lean in. If anyone should understand another human’s need for space, it’s me. Yet I can’t seem to make myself turn around.
She props her chin on her knee. “I’m sorry I missed FaceTiming Greta. We had a weather delay. By the time we got back to Anchorage… ”
I step into the room and settle on the floor across from her, my back against the dresser. It goes against what I’m craving—to hold her in my arms—but I think we’re going to have to work up to that. “We talked it out. She’s good.”
Meg doesn’t look at me. “How was the climb?”
“We had an adventure,” I say, going for brevity.
Her lips don’t even twitch. It’s like she’s forgotten how to smile, and it’s killing me.
“Is she with you tonight?” she asks.
“I dropped her at Kelly’s.”
Meg nods.
“Ready to tell me what’s going on?” I ask.
Tears well up in her eyes. She swipes them away and gazes out the window. “Why won’t you tell me about Trina?”
My mind goes blank. “Tell you…what, exactly?”
Her mouth tenses. “Were you two…together?”
"Whoa, Meg, hold up.” I flash my palms. “There’s nothing between me and Trina. I barely knew her.”
“I saw a picture of you two. I think it was from Annaleise’s party. You were close together, and the looks on your faces…”
Fuck.
“Who showed you this picture?” I realize immediately it’s the wrong question.
Meg sucks in a shaky breath. “I can’t do this again, Linden.”
I scrub down my face and refocus on fixing this disaster. I’ll deal with whomever shared this picture later. “Hear me out, please? It’s not at all what you think.”
“I’ve heard that before.”
I wince. She’s feeling so much pain right now. What I wouldn’t give to soften it. To take the load off her shoulders. To carry it so she doesn’t have to. Will the truth be enough?
“The night of the party, Trina wanted my help with something, but I turned her down.” I tap the back of my skull against Meg’s dresser.
Not reaching for her right now is torture.
“Ever since Trina escaped Sons of Eden, she’s wanted to press charges against them.
She’s tried to get others to join her.” I huff a slow breath and curl my fingers into the thick faux fur rug.
“Others who were abused by Sons of Eden.”
Confusion clouds Meg’s eyes.
“Trina tried this once before, and I turned her down then, too.”
Her gaze snaps to mine. “You and Trina…were part of the same cult?”
I nod. “Different circumstances, different time frames, but yeah.”
Meg closes her eyes, her chest rising in a slow inhale, and then she sighs. “Before…outside the police station, you hinted something about this. Why keep it from me?”
I comb through the rug’s soft faux fur, but it just frustrates me—I want to be touching Meg instead. “Because I want it to stay in the past.”
“I’m sorry.”
I watch her carefully. Sorry for what I experienced, or sorry about jumping to conclusions? Maybe it doesn’t matter. “I don’t talk about it because the truth affects people I love, and they deserve better.”
“Greta,” she says in a soft voice. “And…your brother, right?”
My chest buzzes with a chill. “Kelly too.”
Her eyes turn anguished. “Only to have her betray you like that…God.” She swallows hard.
“I know I’m not perfect, Meg. But I would never, ever do something like that to you.”
She rocks in place, licking her lips. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. Secrets…are hard for me.”
“They’re hard for me too.”
She reaches her hand across the gap. “I won’t ask about it again. ”
I slip my hand into hers. the contact sending a ripple of warmth beneath my skin, melting the chill that’s invaded my core. “Ask if you need to. And I’ll do my best.”
Our eyes lock, making my heart kick into my ribs. She rolls forward and crawls right onto my lap, wrapping her body around mine.
Fuck, it feels good. I cradle her against me. The tension in my shoulders and the chill beneath my skin starts to ease. I lift her up and carry her to the bed, then lay down with her on top of me.
“It was Russel,” she says, settling in. “He had the picture.”
Zero surprise. But there’s an added anxiety flooding in thanks to what Everett shared. Something’s not right with this guy. “Can you maybe not work with him for a while?” Or ever.
She gives a huff. “I could file a complaint, but it’s risky.”
I lean sideways so I can catch her eye, but her gaze flits away.
“I did something…unforgivable. On a flight.”
I comb through her silky hair, letting it slip through my fingers, racking my brain for what this could possibly be. “That sounds like a very big burden.”
Her chest swells against mine with an inhale, and she relaxes again. “It was the night I left San Diego. I took a flight for one of my crewmates who needed to give it up last minute. It made me feel useful, you know? And I thought being at work would help me feel…I don’t know…less alone?”
“Alone? Where were your friends?” Here we are, back at the question I asked weeks ago. The one she answered with a simple I left .
She sniffs, like she’s crying.
Shit. Maybe Quinn was in a different time zone or something? And Annaleise was too busy digging up ways to ruin people’s lives.
I rub Meg’s back. “What about your dad?”
“He was on a wine tasting trip with Darienne. I…I couldn’t get a hold of him. ”
This makes me want to punch the wall. Friends sometimes fail us. But no dad should ever fail his kid. End of story.
“Did something happen?” I stroke down her hair. To my relief, she inhales another full breath and lets it go, melting a little more into me.
“Above everything, it’s my job is to keep people safe.” She buries her face in my chest. “And I messed up.”
I caress up and down her bare arm.
“There was a…thermos of tea on a passenger’s tray table.
I was handing a drink to the person next to him and I…
I knocked it over. There was….a baby. In the window seat.
In a mom’s lap. The hot water…” She sucks in a breath.
“But burns are almost impossible to treat on a plane. You need cold water. Cold, running water. I did the best I could with those stupid tiny sinks we have, and when that wasn’t enough, we used our big jugs and a trash can.
He still got blisters on his feet. His screams..
.” She draws in a shaky breath. “I’ll never forget. ”