Kian, Page 7

  be huge for me, Jo. Huge.”

  Oh my God.

  A hand was pressing down on my chest.

  I asked, unsure if I wanted to hear the answer, “Who’s interviewing him?”

  The gleam in her eye slightly dissipated at my question, and she moved back a step. “Um…the senior reporter is doing most of it, but so are we—Susan and me. I shouldn’t have said anything, though. Crap. Don’t say anything to Jake. I know Susan still talks to him. She says she’s keeping tabs on him for Tara. Promise you won’t say anything? Please, Jo.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Of course not.”

  Kian was coming back. He was going to meet my friend. I couldn’t get that out of my head.

  “Thanks, Jo.” Erica rolled her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything, but I was excited. I am excited. I mean, this guy is everywhere. Journalists all over are clamoring for an interview with him, and he’s coming to our school to do one. Susan thinks it’s a weird angle for him to get into Hillcrest.”

  “To get into Hillcrest…” I couldn’t have heard that right.

  We resumed going through the market as Erica nodded, gripping her bag tighter. “Well, he’s out, you know? I mean, it makes sense. He’ll want to go somewhere for college. Everyone needs a degree, and his name attracts mayhem now. It can’t be easy, being him. Anywhere he goes, reporters show up, protesters start lining the streets, and who else knows what?” She shrugged and then stopped to pay for some corn on the cob. “The interview’s going to attract a lot of attention to our school. I think that’s why he’s doing it, showing the university what his name could do so that they’ll let him in.”

  “I…”

  He hadn’t been back since that night, since Snark had said he was going to go see Kian’s parents. I considered that the door was closed since it had been a month with no word from him. But, now, knowing he’d be coming back, a whole slew of sensations were bombarding my system. And I didn’t want to focus on any of them.

  “All the hard questions are going to be asked, that’s for sure. Like where’s Jordan Emory, for one. The girl’s been missing for three years. How can someone like that, with eyes like that girl has, stay hiding? You know?” She bought a bag of kale, then saw my one bag of strawberries. “Is that all you’re getting?”

  “What?” I couldn’t hear her. There was a pounding in my eardrums.

  She indicated my bag. “I thought we were stocking up for the week. That won’t hold you.”

  “Oh. Yeah.”

  Erica chuckled, shaking her head, and moved to the next booth. “You’re being weird. Why are you being weird?”

  “No reason.”

  Kian would talk to Erica and Susan, and then he would leave again. But, my God, if he actually came to school here…

  I felt sick to my stomach. Glancing around the little park, at the food market, I realized that all of this would go away. I’d have to go away. The media attention would be absurd.

  Or would it? Did I dare hope…

  I grabbed Erica’s arm. “You have to find out if he’s really coming here or not.”

  She glanced at me, startled. “What?”

  “Find out if he’s coming here to stay.” I was insistent.

  Maybe it would be next year. Maybe I would have a whole year for the media buzz to fade away. But, no. I was fooling myself. If he came here, somehow, I would be discovered.

  “Okay, but we were planning on doing that anyway.” She cocked her head at an odd angle. “You’re not one of those stalker types, are you? Granted, we know he’s got ’em. He’s gorgeous and deadly, and he saved that girl. I know those types of girls, the stalker ones, are a big reason why we want to interview him. We want that attention, but please tell me you are not one of those girls.”

  “Oh.” I flushed. “No. I’m the furthest thing from that.”

  “Good.” Her shoulders relaxed again, and we headed away from the market and went back to the sidewalk. “I think you would’ve had to compete with Susan for him, if that were the case.”

  Walking side by side with Erica, I glanced at her. “Susan?”

  Erica gestured to her own eye. “Every time we have meetings about the interview, because there’s a lot to work out, she gets this gleam in her eye. I wouldn’t be surprised if she cornered him or something. I’m sure the guy’s used to girls throwing themselves at him. But with Susan, who knows? She could drug him just to make sure she would have her way with him.”

  “She wouldn’t pull something on him at the interview, would she?”

  Suddenly, Erica stopped. Her arm was thrown out, and I walked into it from the abrupt motion.

  “What—” The question died in my throat.

  Erica was thinking. Her eyebrows were fixed together, and her lips were pinched as she was chewing on the inside of her cheek. That was the brainstorming I-had-a-sudden-light-bulb-thought look on her face, and I sat and waited. Sometimes, her ideas were genius. Other times, they were not.

  She muttered, “Oh. My. God.”

  I would’ve normally said, What? But I didn’t. It wouldn’t have mattered. Erica was in her own world. If Wanker had been there with us, he and I would’ve shared a look.

  I waited again.

  Her fingers turned to grab ahold of my sleeve. “You’re right, Jo. You’re totally right. She’s going to make a move. In the meeting last night, she said that there should be a dinner with the college higher-ups and his team.”

  “Oh?” I frowned.

  “Yeah, and I have a feeling she’s not going to want me there.” Her head jerked to attention, and she looked right at me. “We have to be there.”

  “Uh, what?”

  “Yes, we do.” She pointed at me. “You, too. Susan hates you. I know what you’re thinking.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  “It’s not like I want to cockblock another girl. To each their own—but not her. I hate Susan. She’s so condescending, and she makes everyone feel like they’re dirt under her feet. I would hate if she got this guy—although, he’s a killer, so maybe that would be Karma for her. But still, I hate the thought of her getting this guy. I hate her for even trying.” She snapped her fingers. “I’m getting you to that interview with me somehow. This will be great. Just you being there will annoy the hell out of her. If she thinks she can scoop me in some way…hell nah, that’s not happening.”

  Erica started forward, but my feet stopped working. I stood there, watching her talking to herself, as she hadn’t noticed that I wasn’t at her side. She wanted me at the interview—with her and Kian. So many scenarios were running through my mind. This could be bad, really bad, for me. But Erica had her mind set. I’d heard the determination in her voice. She was going to see it through, no matter what I did.

  Kian couldn’t tell anyone. I would have to plead with him, make him see reason, but even at that idea, ice plunged through my veins. That meant I’d have to see him. I’d have to talk to him. It’d have to be in private. He couldn’t act like he knew me. If he did, all the attention would go to me. Step one for Blame Jordan would be successful.

  My God.

  My heart started racing again. The media storm that could happen—from the discovery that I was at the same college he was being interviewed by, that I would be in the room when it happened—would be disastrous.

  “Jo?” Erica had clued in that I wasn’t at her side.

  I looked down. From the distance of her voice, I had a few seconds to clear my mind and make all the panic go away.

  Three.

  “Hey.” She started toward me.

  Two.

  “Jo?” A weird laugh slipped from her.

  One.

  I looked up, and she was right in front of me, frowning at me, as she scratched her nose, flicking her glasses back up.

  She asked, “You okay?” She looked around. “Were you talking to someone?”

  “What?”

  Lie, Jo. Do what you’re best at. I forced
a smile at my roommate. Snark’s voice sounded in my head. “Stick to the truth, but be vague. It’s the best form of lying there is.”

  I said, “I don’t know if I can go to the interview with you.”

  “Why not?”

  The newspaper was still in my hand, and I held it up. “Because he scares the shit out of me.” Truth.

  “Oh.” Her frown deepened. “Others will be in the room. You won’t be alone with him. I promise. You don’t even have to talk to him. I just have to ask him general background questions and get that on camera. He’ll be with the senior reporter for the harder questions. Susan’s supposed to be the meet-and-greet one. You can take a breather and watch from the green room for that.”

  I shook my head. “No, Erica. I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to be around him.” Not the truth.

  “Please, Jo.” Her eyes were pleading with me. “Okay, yes, I think it would be amazing if you were there. Susan hates you. She’ll be on edge if you’re even in the room, but for real, I could use a friend, too. This interview is going to be huge, and the more allies I have around, the better. I’m scared Susan’s going to take all the credit. That can’t happen.”

  She needed me. She needed her friend. I had to go, but damn, I didn’t want to.

  “I don’t know…”

  “Great!” She tugged me to her and hugged me. “Thank you so much, Jo. You’re the bestest roommate in the world. Now, enough about me and the Destroy Susan plan. Let’s get to the other part that is rubbing her crotch red—Jake. Or”—she playfully nudged my arm—“the friendship that we all know is going to develop into more between you and him. That’s driving her nuts already. She asks if he’s been over to our place every morning.”

  “There’s not, for real.”

  “Okay. For real, should I be concerned? You’re not acting all besotted like last time, so I haven’t been all up in arms, but if I need to be, you say the word. Jake Monroe will go down.”

  I shook my head. “We’re friends. I couldn’t…” I hesitated at what I should say here. I ended with, “It’s been too soon after how it ended with him. It was only seven months ago. I…we’re just friends.”

  “Okay.” She held my gaze, making sure.

  I nodded.

  She dropped it. “Say the word, and I’m all about the Hate Jake parade. I’ll do my own float if I have to.”

  I grinned, saying lightly, “Thank you.”

  She nodded as we began walking again.

  I couldn’t do the interview. There was no way I could even risk the exposure, but I had a few days to think of an excuse. I needed a good one. Erica wouldn’t be swayed by anything except if I were on my deathbed. I hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

  After putting the food away, she was off to work, and I needed to change before heading to the restaurant. After showering and changing, I reached for my purse. When I lifted it, the cell phone was tucked underneath, wedged beside a book. I had forgotten it was there. I’d pulled it out of the drawer the night before to check that Snark hadn’t tried to contact me, and he hadn’t. In my mind, I figured his talk with Kian’s parents had worked.

  But I saw a message on it now. There was only one word in it.

  Tonight.

  Two hours later, the nerves started to settle in. By the time my shift was over, my insides were doing complete somersaults. Henry took over for me, and I was leaving when I saw Jake outside the door.

  “Hey.” He opened the door for me.

  I ducked under his arm, stepping out to the sidewalk. “You’re waiting for me?”

  He let go of the door and fell in step beside me, grinning down at me. His eyes crinkled at the corners in an adorable manner. “I was hoping to walk you home again?”

  “Oh.” I blinked up at him. “Sure. Thank you.”

  We started down the sidewalk, walking the few blocks to my apartment. As we swung around a group of laughing people coming out of a bar, Jake touched the back of my elbow. He tightened his hold and steadied me as a woman’s shoulder bumped into me.

  She whirled to us, her hand covering her mouth, and giggled. “Excuse me.”

  I started to tell her it was fine, but a guy she was with suddenly stepped wrong, and he came hurtling at us. My eyes got big. He was huge, and he was falling fast, but Jake yanked me back and stepped in front of me. He caught the guy and shoved him backward. Before the guy could fall the other way, Jake stepped with him, still holding him, and righted him, so he wouldn’t hit anyone else.

  The woman next to me made an appreciative sound while the guy seemed dumbfounded.

  Jake patted his shoulder twice and murmured, “Steady on your feet, mate.”

  “Thank you.” The guy looked at me. “I’m so sorry. I almost nailed you.”

  One of the other guys in their group barked out a laugh. “That’s what she said.”

  The guy who Jake had helped steady turned around, his eyes darkening in anger. He shot back, “Bad timing, Bart. I could’ve really pounded the girl.”

  The woman next to me started snickering, and her hand covered her mouth once again.

  The whole group, all probably in their older thirties, were laughing, or their shoulders were shaking from repressed laughter. The smell of booze was ripe on them, and I caught the bar stamps on their hands. They were on a pub crawl.

  “Come on.” The first joker stepped forward, holding his hand out to Jake. “Thank you, sir. We’ll keep an eye on him for the rest of the night. He won’t be slamming into your girlfriend any longer. We promise.” The corner of his mouth dipped down and then the other corner. He was biting hard on his lip.

  Jake narrowed his eyes.

  I registered the joke, but it was old by now. The disrespectful undertone had my heart rate rising.

  These people were all dressed in business suits or business skirts for the women, and I recognized their type. They’d come for happy hour from their middle-class white-collar jobs. I actually recognized one of the couples since they often stopped by the restaurant to get a reservation, but they never heeded the advice to call the day ahead to reserve a table. We were always booked out a day in advance, but this couple never listened. They would get miffed when they were denied.

  As both of them were watching me, I knew they had recognized me as well. I stiffened and tried to keep myself from glaring at them, but I didn’t think I was succeeding. The woman’s eyes sharpened, and she started to glare back at me. The guy didn’t seem to like me much more. Slowly, one by one, their group of friends noticed the exchange, and they grew silent.

  One of the guys asked, “You know these two, Harold?”

  Harold. I snorted. He looked like a Harold—old and stuffy with an ego that didn’t match his bank account.

  Harold’s wife hissed at me, “You have a problem, little girl?”

  I drew upright, slowly going to my fullest height.

  “You’re nothing but a little girl who’s going to be a gone little girl.” Edmund’s sick taunt washed over me.

  I started shaking.

  This woman had no idea what she’d said, but I was right back there.

  I was in the bedroom as Edmund started forward, but Kian was there. He stepped inside. I saw him, saw the complete calm over his face, and I couldn’t look away. His eyes were dead. A part of me knew that I should’ve been scared. I should’ve cowered, run away, but I didn’t. I stayed there, and I knew, somehow, that I would be safe. When Edmund realized someone else was in the room, it was too late.

  For him.

  The flashback ripped through me. The old fear crept up inside of me, mixing with the rage that was really directed at Edmund. I jerked forward, my nostrils flaring, and my hands were in fists. This woman and her husband had become Edmund to me. I wouldn’t take their disrespect. I had taken it for too long from him, and I never would again.

  They were talking.