Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
J
Dawn creeps past the blinds, stealing into the room like a thief. I watch the darkness crawl away in fear.
It’s morning already.
According to my watch, I managed to sleep for two hours and twenty minutes after Finn left. It’s shocking to me. The last thing I remember is tossing and turning. I was overheating from both Finn basically grounding me to my room last night and Finn being shirtless.
His body was glorious. Every inch of him, sculpted to perfection. From his shoulders to his biceps, Finn is the definition of power. When he picked me up with one hand, I knew he could crack my skull like a toothpick.
And yet, when he held me, it felt… almost… gentle.
My watch beeps, warning me not to think about a half-naked Finn. At least not this early in the morning.
My jaw cracks with a yawn and I rub my bleary eyes. A pressing discomfort grates against my chest. It feels like someone’s squeezing my heart with a vice.
I reach for the pills and swallow.
Sleep, my eyes are begging me.
An eye mask hangs off the edge of the bed. Normally, when I pull an all-nighter, I sleep in until hunger wakes me. Then I wander down to the hospital cafeteria to see what they have on the menu.
But while my body is tired, my mind is racing.
It’s a new day and I didn’t die in my sleep. Which means I have a chance to look up Finn’s friends from last night. I’ve definitely seen those men somewhere before.
Wrapping myself in the blanket, I tiptoe barefoot across the room to my desk. My computer chair snuggles me like a warm hug.
As I’m logging into the hospital’s system, I hear a buzzing sound. Glancing across to the window, I smile when I see the cleaning drone.
“Hi, Sparky.” I wiggle my fingers at the object outside. The flying plastic tripod has spray jets attached to it, and when it sprays, my view of the city turns blurry. But I don’t want the distraction right now.
Typing quickly, I instruct Sparky to come back another time.
Sparky turns and obediently whirs to someone else’s room.
Focused, I log into the hospital’s surveillance system and drag the timeline back to around three a.m. this morning. With a few clicks, the footage for the parking lot, the front lobby, and the elevators expand before me.
I keep an eye on the monitors while mindlessly rummaging through my snack drawer. Plastic crinkles in my hand. I pop the bag and reach inside when my nose scrunches. What is that smell?
Looking down, I let out a squawk of dismay. “Plantain chips?” I read the name on the package and stare at the golden-yellow discs inside.
I don’t even know what a plantain is.
Panicked, I wrench my snack drawer open fully. This drawer is where I keep my secret stash. All the chocolate bars, candy, chips, and cookies that I tucked away for when I need an energy boost are mysteriously gone.
Peanuts, cashew nuts, almond nuts, home-made granola bars, gluten-free banana and plantain chips, and bags of unbuttered popcorn fill the space.
Horror consumes me and I push away from the desk. “No, no, this can’t be happening.”
Like a soldier seeing her comrades go down on the battlefield, my eyes shoot to the stash of energy drinks that I keep tucked away under the desk.
It’s gone too.
Even worse, it’s been replaced by a case of red tomato juice. Do people drink tomatoes? Voluntarily?
“You’re up?” a voice says with a hint of surprise.
I switch off the monitor and whirl around. A tall man steps into my room. I recognize him as one of the men from last night. He’s tan and broad-shouldered like Finn with a small face, a pointy chin, and dark eyes. This morning, his suit is completely dry—unlike last night.
I spring to my feet. The knife Finn gave me is still in my pocket. If I reach for it…
At that moment, I notice the case of pomegranate juice in his arms. I lift an accusing finger instead. “You! You did this!” I jab at the tomato juice.
He dips his chin in the affirmative.
I stalk forward, forgetting that—like Finn, he’s twice my size and can fight. “Who gave you the right to touch my stuff?”
“It was a request from oya—” He stops himself, and his eyebrows crease as he sounds out the name, “Finn.”
“Finn, did this?” My left eye starts twitching. I stomp back to the computer desk, pick up my phone, and stab Finn’s number.
The phone rings.
Since I’ve known him, Finn Cross does not answer my calls, but I am fully prepared to blow up his phone today.
To my surprise, he answers before the second ring.
His stern voice fills my ears. “I thought you’d sleep in.”
“What. The. Hell?”
He pauses. “You found my gifts.”
“You mean your poisonous granola bars of health?”
“What a strange way to say thank you,” he answers dryly, copying what I told him last night. “I told Ren not to wake you.”
Ren is standing a polite distance away, his eyes averted.
Pacing to the side, I hiss, “Don’t pin this on Ren, you candy-stealing monster.”
Finn chuckles. His soft laughter through the phone temporarily throws me for a loop, and I forget my side-splitting hatred for him.
But it’s only for a second.
I continue to pace. “Those cotton-candy flavored chocolate bars were limited edition. They don’t even sell them anymore. I was rationing them out, so they’d last me until I died.”
“Those candies would have been the reason you died. Now you get to live longer. Congratulations.”
“Finn—
“I’m busy,” Finn says, his tone dropping. “Scream at Ren if you really need to get it out of your system.”
“But my candy—”
Click.
The line goes dead.
I stare at the phone in disbelief. Did he just hang up on me?
Nostrils flaring, I pull the phone away and scream at it. “You jerk!”
Ren blinks in discomfort. “I guess now wouldn’t be the right time to ask where you’d like me to put these?”
“Ugh!” I flounce to my bed.
My watch beeps, warning that I’m getting too agitated, but I won’t calm down. Not until I get my candy back. Since Finn wants me to live so badly, I might as well die.
You’re being irrational, J.
So what?
“I’ll just leave this here. I’ll be right outside,” Ren says, slowly lowering the case and backing away from me like I’m a rabid dog.
He folds up the sleeve of his shirt. His tattoo catches my eye. It’s extremely intricate linework, radiating outward from the wrist, forming a pattern resembling a ring of flames.
“Wait,” I blurt.
Ren freezes.
I shuffle toward him and grab his arm, turning it to the light.
The footage from the Redwood Prep cameras was fuzzy that night, but I remember the tattoo. It’s the same.
“You were there,” I whisper. “That night, someone was fighting the Grave City Crew outside Redwood Prep.” My eyes lift to his. “It was you.”