“Matt…” She’s still there, pinning me with those clear blue eyes. “Anything else I can do?”
Yeah.
“No.” I struggle to gather my thoughts, regroup. “Be careful.”
“Is it dangerous, you think? Ross wouldn’t hurt us. Not physically, at least.”
That’s good to know, although I won’t forget the way he gripped her arm that day at the garage. Maybe Ross changed.
&
nbsp; But I don’t want to scare her more, so I leave it at that and wait until she sighs and walks out the door.
Then I lock and drag the bolt home before I check every window and every door in the house to keep my remaining family safe.
Chapter Fourteen
Octavia
No more messages appear stuck to Matt’s door in the following days—as far as I know, though why would he keep that from me? The rest of the week goes by pretty quietly. Even Adam isn’t around. He said he had to go visit his sister in Springfield.
No more ice cream strolls.
Then I realize there’s no reason why I have to wait for him to go for ice cream. And it’s not as if he’s my boyfriend or anything.
So I grab Gigi and we set off toward the main street under the cloudless evening sky with a promise to Merc who’s playing video games with a friend of his to return with a tub of mint with chocolate chip for him.
That kid’s obsessed with mint. Mint soap, mint chocolate bars, mint donuts, mint brownies. He says it’s a genetic thing he got from his father.
That’s a topic we never touch at home.
Our father.
Mom refuses to talk about him. Says he skipped town ages ago, right after we were born. But if that’s the case, why can’t I remember him? I was four when Merc was born. If our dad left us right after, why wouldn’t I recall a single thing about him?
“So… you and Adam,” Gigi says, cutting through my thoughts. “You guys are so cute together it’s disgusting. Are you two an item now?”
“No.”
“Wow, that was vague.” She sticks her tongue out at me, all mature. “Not sure I got it, try again.”
“We’re not dating.”
“Woo. Goosebumps. That was clear all right.” She drags her fingertips along the rotten fence of Mrs. Koontz’s house. “Why the hell not?”
“Because.” I rub my arms, wishing I’d brought my light cardigan with me. “We just aren’t.”
“Lack of chemistry, huh?”
I shrug.
“Has he kissed you?”
“What? No.”
“So maybe that’s the problem.”
I stop walking. “Meaning what?”