Page 82 of Rules to Love By

“What kind of fight?”

“Not sure really? I was… I don’t know. But he yelled, which he never does, and I kind of… fuck.”

“You what?”

“No, nothing, I just… I couldn’t. Anyway, he apologized, and it was fine. I thought it was fine. But when it got dark and I still hadn’t heard from him, that was weird. Because it’s always been in his Aunt Iris’s rule book that if you’re out after dark, you call to say where you are, when you’ll be back. Just so she didn’t worry. And he always did. Even after she was sick, he’d call me. Until I moved here. Then I wasn’t around for him to call.” He broke off to haul in a deep breath. “I guess no one was. So maybe he got out of the habit. But it’s just not like him. He follows the rules, you know?”

“I know.” Eli glanced around, like he expected Marcus to be sitting at a nearby curb on the scooter, waiting for him.

Of course, he wasn’t.

“I guess I was really just hoping he was with you and distracted at this point.”

“But you haven’t seen him since this afternoon?”

“Kreed fed him a late supper, but other than that, no. But I’m staying at the B and B in his room. So when he comes home, I can chew him out.”

“And call me.”

“Of course. And if you hear from him…”

“I’ll let you know.”

“Why did you call so late?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll talk to you later.” He hung up quickly. No way was he getting into the sorry state of the diner with those guys. They had enough to worry about, running one business and renovating another.

As he hung up, he realized he’d stopped walking, less than halfway to his place. He didn’t want to go farther. His roommates were great, and he loved them. But if they were still up, he’d have to be at least a bit social.

He could go back to the Hen and Hog, or his bar, but what would be the point? He certainly wasn’t going to pick up. And he wasn’t going back behind the bar. His only option was to sit and drink by himself. Not his style.

If he went back to Griffon’s Elbow, that would eventually lead to a discussion with his father about why he was home at the beginning of the school week instead of in the city, attending class. And sure, that was a discussion that was beyond long overdue. But not tonight.

Sighing, he turned back the way he’d come. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he was an idiot. He stopped across the street, next to a concrete planter that blocked vehicle access to a small park. He leaned on the edge of the planter to study the diner.

He wasn’t sure why he was back here. Maybe because his father had always insisted that instinct should be listened to. He was still contemplating that when the crash of shattering glass rocketed him to his feet. A small un-boarded window on the corner of the building disintegrated in a shower of crystalline brilliance, and Eli whipped his head around, looking for a cause.

All he caught was the sound of running feet fading into the dark, and a moment later, the distant wail of sirens. He, too, turned and fled, though he didn’t run. He set a purposeful pace towards his apartment.

He hadn’t seen anything to help the police, and it wasn’t worth his being there when they arrived. Sure as he was that any and everyone involved with the diner would vouch for him, it wasn’t worth a night in jail or the stress it would cause his father to get arrested, even for something he didn’t do.

And that was if the confrontation was with reasonable cops who did everything right, which was no guarantee. It wasn’t worth the risk. But now he wondered about the shadowy form he’d seen in the alley. He wondered how Johnathan Smally was built.

He wondered where Marcus was.

Suddenly, heading back to Griffon’s Elbow and facing the possibility of an awkward conversation with his father was the very smallest of insignificant worries. Of slightly more significance was the fact the outline of the building he’d been staring at was now visible against a dull grey sky.

Well, shit. Staying out all night had not been part of his plan. How many more people were freaking out over that? He quickly sent a text to his roommates, then one to Tris, letting them know he was fine. He did not text his father. He wanted some time to work up to the idea that when he inevitably asked why Eli wasn’t in class, this time, Eli would actually answer the question.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

Marcus watched Eli watch the diner. He thought about approaching but didn’t. He wasn’t sure what he even wanted to say. His plan, when he’d left Griffon’s Elbow earlier, had been nebulous, and quickly fallen apart when he’d actually done it.

Driving into the city had seemed like a good thing to do. He’d promised Ozzy he would go see the diner over the weekend, so here he was. It made him sad. And angry.

The spray-painted stone and boarded-up windows had sent him into a crouch, his head between his knees, staving off an unexpected panic attack. Iris would have had a cow. Not that anyone would have dared deface her place while she was still alive. Now the building seemed to lean on its neighbour like a tired, broken old man, patched and cranky.

Marcus could relate.

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