32
JOHNNY
Istop by the diner to pick up Claire a few minutes before her shift is over, and Bram informs me she’s already gone. I try not to freak out as I send her a text to let her know I’m done.
Considering how nervous she always is when I leave, I assume she’ll read it and respond immediately.
But she doesn’t.
“Do you know where she went?” I ask Bram while attempting to hide my emotions.
He shakes his head while clearing off a table. “Nope. We weren’t busy, so I let her go.” He stops and faces me, seeming to pick up on my distress anyway. “Is something wrong?”
“No.” I lie. “I’m sure everything is fine.”
“Johnny…”
“I’m on edge. It’s probably nothing.” I make my way to the door. “Call me if you hear from her.”
I bolt back to the complex. It's possible she went home to shower and change out of her diner clothes. Or maybe she's studying. There are plenty of reasonable explanations as to why she hasn't replied yet.
She could be in trouble, my brain reminds me.
I shake the thought away, not wanting to hyper-focus on that theory.
She has to be okay; I won’t accept any other reality.
I key in my code, granting me access, and rush through the empty courtyard, hoping with all my might that she's upstairs, completely unharmed.
Griffin might be lying in a hospital bed, inches away from death, but countless other things could threaten Claire, especially in this world I allowed her to step into.
I pound on her door and peer through the window for any sign of her. “Claire, you in there?” A minute goes by and when she doesn’t answer, I bolt down the hallway to my own place. I had given her a key to use, so maybe she decided to come over instead of going home. We’ve been spending so much time together that it seems like a possibility. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.
I enter my foyer and I’m greeted by the sound of my heartbeat thudding through the heavy silence. I pause and listen—nothing else. That could mean a number of things, like maybe she’s taking a nap. Shit has been overwhelming lately, she could have needed some rest. But with each step closer to my bedroom, I remember her confession last night about not being able to fall asleep without me.
Who’s to say she isn’t trying, though?
I hold my breath and step into the room. A second later, I’m back out, rushing toward the front door. She’s not here. She’s not answering. She must be in trouble.
An invisible clock starts flashing in my mind, blinking a warning that time is running out. What if I’m too late? Like I almost was when Griffin came. Or last night when Jared was going to…
I can’t even let my mind continue the vile thought. I’ve never killed someone before, but last night, the idea of ending Jared’s life for what he could have done to Claire was insanely strong. If it wouldn’t have only further put her in danger, I may have gone through with it.
I reach for the handle but startle when it turns, the door opening, and a beautiful angel standing on the other side.
“Claire.” It’s like I can finally breathe. I drag her in and wrap my arms around her. “Fuck, are you okay? I’ve never been more worried in my life.” Each time Claire’s life is threatened is a new and intense knife to the gut. Getting used to caring about someone so intensely is a shock to my system.
Claire hugs me tight, not saying a word. Her body relaxes into mine like she feels the same way I do.
It’s then that I notice the protruding thing between us.
I break away, but only slightly, to look into her eyes.
She stares back and swallows thickly. She brings her hands to her stomach and fumbles under the thin sweatshirt she’s only wearing to cover her bruised arms. Claire drags out a blood-stained package, and if I thought my heart was going to explode earlier, I was wrong.
I gasp, totally incapable of hiding my shock. A million things cross my mind in a matter of seconds, but each one of them ends with having no fucking clue how she pulled this off.
“What did you do?” I ask her in utter disbelief.