I pushed myself to my feet and splashed cold water on my face. Avoiding Scott’s reflection in the mirror, I grabbed a paper towel and dried off.
“You’re also going to tell me who you were looking for in the men’s room,” said Scott.
“I thought I saw my dad,” I shot back, summoning up all the anger I could to mask the stabbing pain deep inside. “There. Satisfied?” I wadded up the towel and flung it in the trash. I was heading for the exit when Scott let the door drop closed and leaned against it, blocking me.
“Once they find the guy who did it and send him away for life, you’ll feel better.”
“Thanks for the worst advice I’ve received yet,” I said bitterly, thinking that what would make me feel better was having my dad back.
“Trust me. My dad’s a cop. He lives for telling surviving family members that he found the killer. They’re going to find the guy who destroyed your family and make him pay. A life for a life. That’s when you get your peace. Let’s get out of here. I feel like a creep standing in the girls’ room.” He waited. “That was supposed to make you laugh.”
“Not in the mood.”
He laced his fingers together on top of his head and shrugged, looking uncomfortable, like he hated awkward moments, let alone knew how to resolve them. “Listen, I’m playing pool at this dive in Springvale tonight. You wanna?”
“Pass.” I wasn’t in the mood to play pool. All it would accomplish was to fill my head with unwanted memories of Patch. I remembered that very first night when I chased him down to finish a bio assignment and found him playing pool in the basement of Bo’s. I remembered when he taught me to play pool. I remembered the way he stood behind me, so close I felt electricity.
Even more, I remembered the way he had always shown up when I needed him. But I needed him now. Where was he? Was he thinking of me?
I stood on the front porch rifling through my handbag for keys. My rain-soaked shoes squeaked against the boards, and my wet jeans rubbed a rash on the inside of my thighs. After tailing Scott, Vee had dragged me into several boutiques to get my opinion on scarves, and while I was giving her my thoughts on a violet silk versus a folksy hand-painted one in neutrals, a storm had blown in from the sea. By the time we’d sprinted to the parking lot and flung ourselves inside the Neon, we’d gone from dry to drenched. We’d blasted the heat the whole drive home, but my teeth were chattering, my clothes felt like ice painted on my skin, and I was still shaken from believing I’d seen my dad.
I shoved my shoulder against the humidity-swelled door, then patted the inside wall until my fingers fumbled the light switch. In the upstairs bathroom, I peeled out of my clothes and hung them over the shower rod to dry. On the other side of the window, lightning pitchforked down through the sky and thunder clamored like it was stomping on the roof.
I’d been alone in the farmhouse through numerous storms before, but all the experience hadn’t made me any more accustomed to them. This afternoon’s storm was no exception. Vee was supposed to be here now, sleeping over, but she’d decided to meet up with Rixon for a few hours since she’d canceled on him earlier. I wished I could travel back in time and tell her I’d tail Scott by myself, if she’d make sure to keep me company at the farmhouse this evening.
The bathroom lights flickered twice. That was all the warning I got before they drained, leaving me standing in shadowy darkness. Rain threw itself against the window, streaming down it in rivers. I stood in place a moment, waiting to see if the electricity would be restored. The rain turned to hail, striking the windowpanes hard enough that I feared the glass would crack.
I called Vee. “My electricity just went out.”
“Yeah, the streetlights just died on me. Slackers.”
“Want to drive back and keep me company?”
“Let’s see. Not especially.”
“You promised you’d sleep over.”
“I also promised Rixon I’d meet him at Taco Bell. I’m not going to cancel on him twice in one day. Give me a few hours, then I’m all yours. I’ll call you when I’m done. I’ll definitely be there before midnight.”
I hung up and squeezed my memory, trying to remember where I’d last seen the matches. It wasn’t dark enough that I needed candles to see, but I liked the idea of lighting up the place as much as possible, especially since I was alone. Light had a way of keeping the monsters of my imagination at bay.
There were candlesticks on the dining room table, I recalled, wrapping myself in a towel and taking the stairs down to the main level. And pillar candles in the cabinets. But where were the matches?
A shadow moved in the fields behind the house, and I snapped my head toward the kitchen windows. The sheeting rain spilled down the panes, distorting the world outside, and I stepped closer for a better look. Whatever I’d seen was gone.
The kitchen phone shrilled, and I grabbed for it, half because I was startled and half because I wanted to hear a human voice. I prayed it was Vee calling to say she’d changed her mind.
“Hello?”
I waited.
Static crackled in my ear.
“Vee? Mom?” At the edge of my vision, I saw another shadow slink through the fields. Sucking in a steadying breath, I reminded myself there was no possible way that I was in any true danger. Patch might not be my boyfriend, but he was still my guardian angel. If there was trouble, he’d be here. But even as I thought it, I wondered if I could count on Patch for anything anymore.
He must hate me, I thought. He must want nothing to do with me. He must still be furious, and that’s why he’d made no effort to contact me.
The trouble with that train of thought was that it only made me angry again. Here I was, worrying about him, but chances were, wherever he was, he wasn’t worrying about me. He’d said he wasn’t going to just swallow my decision to break up, but that’s exactly what he’d done. He hadn’t texted or called. He hadn’t
Yes, I was angry. Only this time, I was going to do something about it.
I slammed the home phone down and scrolled through my cell phone, looking for Scott’s number. I was going to throw caution to the wind and take him up on his offer. Even though I knew it was for all the wrong reasons, I wanted to go out with Scott. I wanted to give Patch the finger. If he thought I was going to sit home and cry over him, he was wrong. We’d broken up; I was free to go out with other guys. And while I was at it, I was going to test Patch’s ability to keep me safe. Maybe Scott really was Nephilim. Maybe he was even trouble. Maybe he was exactly the kind of guy I should stay away from. I felt a hard smile cross my face as I realized it didn’t matter what I did, or what Scott might do; Patch had to protect me.
“Have you left for Springvale yet?” I asked Scott, after keying in his number.
“Hanging with me isn’t so bad after all?”
“If you’re going to rub it in, I’m not going.”
I heard him smile. “Easy, Grey, I’m just playing with you.”
I’d promised my mom I’d keep my distance from Scott, but I wasn’t worried. If Scott messed with me, Patch would have to step in.
“Well?” I said. “Are you going to pick me up or what?”
“I’ll swing by after seven.”
Springvale is a small fishing town, and most of it is crammed onto Main Street: the post office, a few fish- and-chips diners, tackle shops, and the Z Pool Hall.
The Z stood one story high, with a plate-glass window offering a view inside to the pool hall and bar. Trash and weeds decorated the exterior. Two men with shaved heads and goatees were smoking on the sidewalk just outside the doors; they ground out their cigarettes and disappeared inside.
