Page 34 of Journey

“Don’t play dumb, Journey.”

I take a few steps back, lean against the wall, and cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not playing dumb, Wren. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

She rolls her eyes. “And I suppose you’re gonna tell me that you didn’t leave me the flowers and note.”

“What flowers and note?”

Wren throws her arms up and begins to pace. I keep a close eye on her every step, watching for any indication that anyone other than Wren is present. I don’t know what specific triggers she has for a switch, and I’m not at all sure I want to find out when she’s this pissed.

“And then there’s the matter of your little visit to Dr. Young,” she shouts, no longer trying to keep her voice down. “What is wrong with you?”

Well, shit. I knew that was gonna come back to bite me in the ass.

“Listen, I won’t deny that,” I say. “And I’m sorry. But you didn’t leave me much choice.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I want nothing to do with you?”

No. It didn’t.

Instead of voicing my thought, I push off the wall and walk around the counter. I block her from pacing, but when she flinches, I take a step back.

“What are you doing?” she demands.

“Do you want nothing to do with me?” I ask.

That gets her attention, and she halts. “What?”

“Do you want nothing to do with me?” I repeat. “It’s a simple question, Wren.”

“I…” She shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

“If you really want me to back off, I will,” I tell her honestly while simultaneously hoping like hell she doesn’t.

“You will?”

“Of course. I’d never force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“But the flowers? And the note?”

“Yeah, about those… I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And the gun?”

“Nope.”

“But my dad…”

I stiffen. “What’s he got to do with this?”

“He called me and said Uncle Craig left it. I haven’t seen Uncle Craig in years, and there’s no way either of them know where I live, so I assumed he meant you.” She locks eyes with me. “You’re working for him, aren’t you?”

“Wren, I’ve never met your dad. All I know about him is what I’ve read about his crimes.”

She sighs, her shoulders slumping. “But I… I’m so confused.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” I suggest. “Tell me about the flowers and note.”

And she does. It takes everything in me not to punch holes in the walls as she speaks. I hate that there’s someone out there who made her question my intentions, someone who is a real danger to her.

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