Chapter 13
Link
Cassie drives in silence. Her anger is so thick I half expect it to shatter a window. Four hours without a single word. I’ve seen lesser sentences for worse crimes.
“Are you going to ignore me the entire way home?” I give a strand of her blond hair a gentle tug.
She turns, her eyes stormy.
I raise my hands defensively.
“Easy now. I don’t want any trouble.” Lightening the mood is proving harder than I expected.
“You lied about Nathan.” Her tone is sharp, and she angles her eyebrow as she spares me a glance.
“I didn’t lie. A source told me he met with Anita.”
“Was this source Phineas?” She bites her lower lip, frustration filling her expression.
“Does it matter if it was? He knows a lot more than we think.”
“That doesn't mean you can just trust him.” Her voice raises a notch.
“Have I ever mentioned that you're beautiful when you're mad?” I put on my goofiest grin, anything to distract her from continuing to investigate what is going on with Nathan and Phineas.
She blushes, and something flashes in her eyes. My flirting probably isn't normal for her.
Cassie sputters and shakes her head.
“Stop that. Don’t say stuff to distract from what’s at hand.” Her lips twitch as if maybe she’s holding back a smile. “It’s not going to get you out of this. The only thing getting you out of hot water is telling the truth. Then again, I know you're no good at that.”
“That hurts.” I clutch my chest as if she's just shot me with an invisible arrow. If only she knew that the pain is more real than she might think. Hearing her say that about me is not pleasant.
“Sometimes the truth hurts.” She shrugs, and a small laugh escapes her pink lips. “I'm so mad at you.” She reaches out and turns up the radio, and a country song fills the cabin of the station wagon. I lean my head back against the seat. The sound of country guitar and drums washes over me, keeping the beat with my thoughts.
“I wouldn't expect anything less.” I close my eyes, trying to ignore the constant throbbing in my leg.
Hopefully, being honest with Cassie and Quinn about the fact that I'm looking for Nathan will pay off in the long run. If anything, working with Phineas has taught me how much of a team we are and how important everyone's role is. At least we know Anita is out there, safe and sound.
Somehow, though, I don't think all of the trouble related to her case is completely behind us.
By the time we get home, things have settled down a bit, though I’m pretty sure Cassie is still mad at me. She’s stuck to small talk and glossing over things on our drive home. She’s hiding something from me. I know because, as someone who hides things, it’s easy to spot that in others.
She pulls the station wagon in front of the house and sits still in the driver's seat for a moment, looking conflicted.
I take the chance to go around and open her door for her.
When she steps out, she stumbles a bit. My hand moves to her waist, holding her up. I step closer and her eyes lock with mine.
There’s so much I want to tell her, to share with her, but my whole body knows it would be a terrible idea. Instead, I clear my throat, enjoying the closeness for a moment.
“Are we okay?” I ask, my voice falling a notch. I can see the way her lips part as she looks up at me, her chin angled up at the perfect angle.
“That's up to you. Has anyone ever told you that a relationship is built on trust?” She doesn't move to get away from me or change our position. I tuck a bit of hair behind her ear that's worked its way loose from her ponytail. It’s silky smooth, just like I imagined it would be, every time I think about touching it. My hand lingers on her neck.
“One of these days, I'm going to tell you everything. I wish that could be tonight, but some things aren't my decision. ”
Coward.
I could tell her. Phineas wouldn't know. Even if he did, he would probably forgive me, considering he needs my help. I'm just too much of a coward to risk everything by putting it all out in front of Cassie. I know that it could make her walk away for good. She’d never forgive me if she knew who I was before I came into her life.
“Do you really mean that?” Her green eyes show a moment of vulnerability.
“Yes. I do mean that.”
All it would take would be a couple of words, an honest confession. It would all be out in the open. Would she accept me? Embrace me with all of my flaws? This can’t be about me. Telling her would mean pulling her under into something dangerous, something that could destroy everything for her, including her future. I can’t do it, but I want to.
She sighs. “All right then. To answer your question, we're as good as we can be.”
Sadness sits there in my chest. I want to be better than as good as we can be. Instead of protesting, I step back, reluctantly letting my hand fall from her waist and shoulder.
“Sleep well, Cassie.”
Her eyes follow me as if she wants to say something else to me but doesn't. I turn and walk back up to the second entrance to the garage before I change my mind about what I want to tell her.
My heart aches, and my head spins. It reminds me of the saying about eating your cake and having it, too. As a child, I thought buying two cakes solved that problem. If only there were a solution to my problem with Cassie, especially the problem of the feelings I have for her. Sometimes, like right now, they rear their heads, reminding me of everything I want and have promised that I won’t ask for when it comes to Cassie.
If the world were a perfect place where all my dreams could come true, we would have a chance together. I can’t allow myself to wander into those thoughts. I’m not sure if there is a way for that to happen in any reality.
I let myself into my small garage apartment and looked back through the window. Cassie is still standing by the station wagon. She’s staring up at the sky, a look of wonder creasing her brow. What is she thinking about?
I wish I knew.
Cassie
It takes me a couple of minutes before I force my feet to carry me inside. Lincoln insists he didn’t lie, that someone told him Nathan met with Anita, but I’m having doubts and hate it. Trust is important when working in such a small team. It’s hard to work with someone that may be a liar. Everything he tells me, I run it through that filter.
Looking up at the twinkling night sky, I wonder… Is Dad up there looking down on me? What would he think about Lincoln and me, and how we’re running the office? Sometimes, I almost expect to hear his voice, telling me his opinion or guiding me somehow. Instead, there’s just silence and an incessant ache. That ache was su pposed to fade over time, but over how much time, I’m not sure.
What about my mother? Is she still out there? It would be impossible to know if my mom is still alive. I never looked for her or tried to keep tabs on her since she walked out of our lives. The day she walked away and never looked back, we stopped expecting her to return. Her walking away shook us to the core. It was a slap in the face, unexpected, and it broke us in different ways. We couldn’t bear to hope it could be repaired.
My heart thunders against my ribcage. What would Dad think about the way I feel about Lincoln? I’m not sure how I even feel about it.
Whenever I close my eyes, Lincoln is there with that conceited smirk and the impenetrable wall hiding his real emotions. He knows he’s charming, and he uses it against me. The worst part is I fall for it every time. Why couldn’t my crush be on someone less complicated?
The feelings I harbored as a teenager have only grown stronger in the last couple of weeks. I can't tell if they are real or just a result of Lincoln being a little too handsome for his own good. The lights go off in the garage. It looks like Lincoln is finally turning in for the night.
I stand for an extra second in the hall and stare at his door.
Sometimes, the house feels a little too big and empty for my liking. There are still so many memories of my family floating around in this house. Back when I was a kid, just starting to keep my memories, Mom was baking at the stove, singing before bed, and tucking me in.
Then, during the bleak days right after she left, we had to scramble to find the rhythm in our lives again. Dad tried to make up for her not being there, and soon enough, we started our own little traditions and good memories. We’d wake up on Christmas morning, fill each other’s stockings, and make pancakes every Saturday. We prioritized having a picnic once a month and planned father-daughter outings around town.
I hang my keys by the door and take off my shoes before heading to the couch and taking my laptop off the coffee table.
Anita's words replay in my head over and over. I was adamant about her being wrong, but what if she's right and I'm wrong? There is a big possibility that I've misjudged the Thorntons, and the very thought of it is unnerving. I start my research with the Thorntons' family tree, tracking them back a few generations.
It seems that they didn't come from family wealth, as they tell everybody. Only three generations ago, they were just nobodies, normal families.
I keep reading news article after news article. Nobody can say exactly how they climbed the ladder or became one of the wealthiest families in Pinecrest. Soon enough, my fingers are sore from the past hour of fruitless sleuthing. My head spins with more questions than I had when I started.
How did the Thorntons manage to end up on top? The story always was that they came from a wealthy family, and their grandfather purchased the first gas station in Pinecrest. If they had a Ponzi scheme running with Corey Thornton at the top, it would mean disaster for this town. When everything came tumbling down, so would people's livelihoods.
They did own a couple of gas stations, several of the stores, and quite a few offices. Even the ones that seemed to be owned by other people are linked to them somehow. My stomach churns.
If there was ever something I desperately hoped wasn't true, it's this. If it is true, does that mean the Thorntons were just using me as part of their cover? How did I not see the signs? It’s probably not true…
I close the computer and curl up on the couch with my blanket. It's the softest blanket I own, and it feels like a pillow all over my body.
I stare at the ceiling, too tired to go to my room, and my mind wanders. Something is going on with Lincoln, something deeper than Quinn or I initially guessed. Should I ignore it or try to help him with it?
I could forget I ever suspected anything and take him at face value, trusting him to come up with the answers when he's ready. No, that's not going to happen. He's been honest about one thing: He doesn't intend to share details with me.
That means it's my responsibility to find them out. Why is Lincoln so tight with Phineas lately, and what business does he have with Nathan Thornton? I'm hoping Quinn has figured something else out, and I can hardly stop thinking of different scenarios long enough for a few moments of rest.
Tomorrow, we'll get to the bottom of what Lincoln is involved in… or at least as much as he’ll allow us to.