7. Eliana
SEVEN
I followGriffin as he walks to his Jeep, but I stop when I spot the rest of the team piled into the van. In the back seat, Zale furiously rolls his window down and sticks his head out.
“Eliana,” he calls out. “You’re one of us now. An attack on you is an attack on the team. So, make sure you’re not blaming yourself in that pretty little head of yours.”
I don’t expect his words to hit me as hard as they do, and I fight back the warmth prickling in my eyes and the tightness forming in my throat because I have been blaming myself. If I wasn’t there, that weirdo wouldn’t have approached me with the stupid bottle and the others could have continued with their fun night.
Who knows what will happen to them now that the bartender told Gabriel. What if he kicks Zale and Griffin from the team? Or what if the police show up at the house and take them away for injuring that creep? I’ll only have myself to blame if that happens. I clear my throat and force a small smile on my face.
“Thanks, Zale.” I say, my voice shaky.
“You get her home safe, Fin!” Maliah calls from the passenger’s side before she looks at me through the windshield and wiggles her brows, a grin creeping onto her face.
I feel my face flush from her silent insinuation. Kairi flashes me a toothy smile too before backing out of the parking lot and pulling onto the road that leads to the Shredder House.
“You coming?” Griffin holds the passenger side door of his jeep open as his eyes focus on mine.
In the light of the parking lot, I get a better look at him. He’s wearing a black T-shirt, fitted black jeans, and sneakers. I find myself staring, until he raises an eyebrow at me questioningly.
I dip my head and walk over quickly, getting in before he slams the door behind me. Once he hops into the driver’s side, he starts the car and pulls out of the parking lot with an aggression that scares me into instinctively gripping my seat belt to make sure it’s still there while an anxious feeling crawls up my throat.
“Please slow down,” I say, hating how scared I sound.
He doesn’t slow down though; he keeps increasing his speed as we continue down a dark and winding road. The sound of screeching tires, shattering glass, and the screams of my parents echo in my head, and I squeeze my eyes shut as my breathing becomes labored while the flashbacks from the accident pour in.
“Griffin,” I whimper, “please.”
I feel his eyes land on me, but I keep mine squeezed shut. The car deaccelerates and we drive in silence for a while until my heartbeat and breathing have returned to their normal rhythm.
“What was that?” he asks softly.
I feel embarrassed that he saw me like that, so close to breaking down, but I’m also pissed that he was driving like an insane person. I turn to glare at him, and he raises a questioning eyebrow in response.
“You tell me.” I cross my arms over my chest.
He sighs and returns his attention to the road, choosing to sit in silence instead. After a few minutes of driving through the dark roads, I realize that we aren’t driving towards the house, we’re driving away from it.
“Are you planning on dumping me at the edge of town or something?” I ask.
His eyes search mine before he sighs and looks away. His grip on the steering wheel tightens, knuckles turning white.
“Do you really think I would have stepped in today if I wanted you gone that badly?”
“Yes, I do. You’re not a complete asshole.” I repeat his words from earlier back to him and he returns his piercing gray eyes back to mine.
I avoid his intense gaze and turn away to look out the passenger side window instead, spotting the ocean in the distance. I watch as the night waves ebb and flow, the sight hypnotizing.
“I wasn’t going to drink from his bottle, just so you know,” I mumble. “I’m not stupid.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” he sighs. “I wasn’t going to step in at first but when I saw him grab you, I just…”
“You just what?” I ask, turning back to look at him as he clenches his jaw and holds the steering wheel in a death grip.
“I just couldn’t stand back and watch,” he returns his eyes to the road. “Maybe I overstepped. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t overstep.” I whisper, returning my eyes out the window.
He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the drive, until he pulls off the road into the parking lot of a small diner called Burger Shack with a blinking Open sign on the door.
“Stay in the car, I’ll grab you something to eat,” he says under his breath before jumping out of the car and leaving me behind.
The locks click into place, locking me in. I hear them click into place three more times as I watch him furiously press the button from inside the diner. He runs a hand through his hair as if he’s stressed leaving me out here on my own.
“Paranoid much?” I whisper, though a warmth spreads in my chest at his obvious protective nature.
Wait what?
No. There is no warmth in my chest. Him standing up for me at the bar does nothing to me. Neither does the fact that he called me his when the creep asked him if we were together. I refuse to fall for the mind games he’s playing. This must be the second part of his plan to get me out of here.
But, despite thinking it was all for show, I still feel grateful for him showing up when he did. I can only imagine how wrong that encounter at the bar could have gone if Griffin hadn’t been there to step in. That guy wasn’t taking no for an answer.
While I wait, I decide to snoop around his car to get a better idea of what makes him Griffin. He has a mini cobalt blue surfboard shaped car freshener hanging from his rear-view mirror. The words Ocean Breeze are written on it, and I can confirm it does in fact smell of fresh saltwater. Aside from a chunky yellow blanket in the back seat, his car is empty.
I pull down the passenger side visor to look at myself in the mirror, but a photo booth strip falls onto my lap instead. It’s of him and a pretty, tanned girl with straight black hair. In the first photo they’re smiling at the camera, in the second they’re laughing, slightly blurry from moving, in the third he’s staring at her with an expression full of adoration and love, and in the last photo they’re kissing.
The car locks jump up, and I quickly slap the picture back into the visor, smacking it back into place, as he climbs into the car. He glances at me and then at the visor curiously. Trying to divert his attention, I quickly grab the takeout bags from him and watch as he places both drinks into the cup holders, tossing the tray into the back seat.
“So, do you have a ‘no eating in the car’ rule?” I ask as he starts up the engine, clipping his seat belt in place.
“You can eat in the car, but I want to show you something first.” He returns his attention to the road as he backs out of the parking lot.
He drives us to the top of a nearby hill, parking in a beautiful lookout spot overlooking all of Saltwater Springs, the mountains, and the ocean. We’re also the only car here, parked beside a large willow tree.
“I’m guessing not many people know about this place?” I question as I look around.
“Not many people care to find a place like this when faced with a beautiful day at the beach or a hike through our mountains. I think I can probably count the number of people that know about this place on one hand.”
Why did he bring me here? He easily could have bought the food and driven us back to the house to eat there, but instead he’s choosing to spend time alone looking at the beauty of Saltwater Springs together.
Maybe he’s planning to push you off the edge of this cliff.
I push the thought out of my head as he reaches over and opens the takeout bag on my lap, his fingers brushing along my thigh through the bag, as he pulls out a wrapped burger which he hands to me before taking his own.
I peel back the foil wrapping and am greeted with a cheeseburger that smells so good it makes my mouth begin to water and my stomach growl loudly.
“I wasn’t sure what you’d like so I tried to keep it simple.”
I take a bite of the burger and let out an embarrassingly enthusiastic moan as my eyes roll back and I tilt my head against the headrest.
“This is the best burger I’ve ever had,” I say as I slowly chew.
When he doesn’t respond I lift my head and look at him. He’s holding his burger in midair as he watches me with his mouth ajar and a flush creeping onto his cheeks.
“What?”
“Please don’t moan like that again,” he says in a rough voice, clearing his throat and readjusting himself in his seat.
As embarrassed as I am at his reaction, I decide to make light of the situation.
“Sorry, I thought it would help with the feng shui of the car the same way all that porn you were blasting last night helped with your room.”
He rolls his eyes, a small smile pulling at his lips, before he focuses on his burger. We both eat in a comfortable silence while staring off at the town below us, his radio playing country songs at low volume.
“Earlier, when I was driving fast,” he says, crunching up the foil wrapper after he’s finished his burger, “you freaked out a bit. What was that about?”
I finish chewing the food that’s in my mouth before I answer, buying myself time to think of what I want to say and how I want to say it.
“I was in a car accident a few years ago, so fast cars make me uncomfortable now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Were you the only one in the car?” he asks, picking up his milkshake and taking a long sip from it.
“No,” I answer abruptly, sensing the conversation heading into dangerous territory, “so, what’s the story behind your accident?”
The topic switch is obvious, but he doesn’t push, which I appreciate. He places his milkshake back into the cup holder and adjusts his seat so that he’s leaning back.
“I don’t think there’s much of a story. My mind just wasn’t focused on the wave, and I made a rookie mistake that ended up almost costing me my career and my life.”
“What was the rookie mistake?” I press.
He doesn’t answer right away, seeming to consider the best way to answer.
“I didn’t wax my board,” he sighs, “which means I didn’t have much foot traction out in the water.”
“I know what waxing your board does, Griffin,” I roll my eyes, “why didn’t you wax it?”
“I told you already,” he lets out another deep sigh, “there were just too many things on my mind at that time.”
“Like what?”
He turns his head and looks at me with warning eyes as I realize I’ve pushed too far.
“Is your scar from the car accident?” he asks, switching the focus back to me.
“Yes.”
“Were you driving?” I return the same look of warning and he chuckles, looking away from me and out of his sunroof instead. “I guess we both have secrets we don’t want to share.”
“I guess so,” I mumble in agreement, picking up my milkshake for the first time.