Page 128 of Tear Me Apart
“Do you know where you’re going?”
The reporter adjusts his Maui Jim sunglasses. “Actually, dude, yeah. I’ve been scoping the story for a while now, trying to get Mindy alone to talk to me.” He seems unembarrassed by this blatant greed. Zack wants to punch him but has a feeling even violence won’t stop the kid.
The car zooms around the circle, and they are climbing. Zack wants to jam the car into fifth and make it go faster. Whatever is happening, it’s happening now, and he needs to get there.
“Could you hurry?”
“I’m going as fast as is smart, dude. The roads are still icy up high. I’d rather not plunge off the side of the mountain.”
“Who are you even with? You don’t exactly have the corporate vibe.”
The kid grins, puts out a hand. “Bode Greer, at your service. I work forSki Magazine. I did the profile on Mindy a couple of months ago. We got along. I figured I have as good a chance as anyone to get in to talk to her. I think she dug me.”
The smug, knowing smile is enough to make Zack’s blood pressure rise. He knows exactly what Greer means. He gives the boy—he is only a boy, in his early twenties, handsome, carefree—a long look. He is shocked to hear himself say, “You aren’t getting anywhere near my daughter, young man.”
If he wasn’t so scared, so witlessly terrified, this sudden surge of protectiveness would make him laugh. But as it is, he knows only one thing. It is paramount that he protects Mindy. From the reporters. From Jasper. From Lauren. Hell, even from Juliet. He needs to get her separated from the entire world here, all the people who have been using her and riding her coattails and forcing her into the daily servitude of being a world-class athlete. She needs peace to heal, time to get to know her real family.
Vivian, help me.Help me save our girl.
He tries Juliet’s cell phone, which goes to voice mail immediately. This is not good.
He realizes Bode is still talking. “—no offense, dude. I’m just saying she’s a cool chick. She was a fun interview. I’m not trying to exploit her or anything. It’s a huge story, whether she can keep her lead in the World Cup standings or whether she’s going to miss it this year.”
“The story is bigger than her World Cup standings, trust me.”
“Tell me. And hey, there’s a recorder in my pocket, mind reaching over and turning it on?”
“What?”
“Oh. Did I not mention we’re on the record?”
“You manipulative little shit.”
Bode smooths his cap. “Hey, man, I’m just trying to make a living. You’d do the same in my shoes.”
They are flying up the mountain now, hitting the straightaway that leads to the final set of switchbacks that will bring them to the Wrights’ drive. Zack’s hands are balled into fists. He bites the inside of his lip, and the pain is sharp and intense. He relaxes his hands and takes a deep breath, the metallic tang of his blood on his tongue. His blood that will save her. His blood that flows through her veins. In his blood, the truth.
“Fine. On the record. An interview with Mindy and me. Now shut the fuck up and get me to that house.”
* * *
It is quiet when he arrives. Juliet’s truck is in its usual spot, off to the right in the guest slot. The garage doors are closed; the house feels empty. He doesn’t know why he expected it to be any different than normal—maybe he imagined the two sisters tearing each other’s hair out on the front deck, fighting to the death over him. The idea makes him snort, and Bode, who has just put the car into Park, glances over inquisitively.
“Never mind, it’s nothing.”
“Okay. Now what?”
“Stay here.”
“Come on, man, you said—”
“Mindy isn’t here, Bode. And we agreed—an interview with Mindy and me. Now, stay in the car. And no taking photos, all right? I’ll be back in a minute. Kat, stay.”
She whines but listens. He runs up the front stairs, dodging the icy corners, and rings the bell, but no one answers. He tries the knob, but it’s locked. He doesn’t have a key. What’s he going to do, break down the door in front of the reporter? That will go over well.
He presses the doorbell, tries Juliet’s cell phone again, too, knowing something is terribly, dreadfully wrong.
Bode is out of the car now, sensing the urgency. Kat’s head is out the window. She begins to bark. The garage door goes up.
