“Love you fierce, baby sister.”
As soon as she hangs up, I dial my grandparents, noticing that they answer the call without Saffron present. With all of this crap going on, I can’t help but wonder if she didn’t somehow know.
“Has she told you? If she hasn’t, she should—before he finds you.”
If Saffron didn’t know anything, then she must be prophetic because all the things she told me seem to be ringing true. But how? How the fuck would she know anything at all about my biological father?
“Is there a way for me to contact Saffron?” I ask after I’ve had a chance to talk for a while. The look on Carmen’s face tells me that wasn’t the best question I could ask right now. She seems wary, almost afraid.
“It’s probably best that you don’t see or talk to her for a while,” she hazards, giving my grandfather a look. “Tess wasn’t happy with us for contacting you, to say the least. And Saffron was having a really hard time with it. She’s … well, she’s staying in a facility for the time being.”
I cock a brow, but I don’t really know how to respond to that. Saffron has always been a little sad, a little flighty, a little weird, but I never thought of her as someone who’d need to be committed or anything.
I decide to let the subject go for now, allowing myself just a few minutes to enjoy talking to my grandparents with Tess out of the house. Once I’m done, I curl up on my bed with an alarm set on my phone. Just thirty minutes and I’ll get up, get online, and see what I can’t do to help locate Parrish.
Unfortunately for me, I don’t wake up until hours later, when it’s already dark out.
The first thing I do is snatch my phone and check for messages.
There’s one waiting for me.
I don’t want your studies to slack because of this; it’s nearly finals and you should be studying. I’m going to give you the rest of the week off, and we’ll start fresh on Monday. Rest well, princess.
I just stare at the words, my jaw clenched tight as I resist the urge to throw the phone against the wall. What the hell is this guy playing at? My studies? Give me the rest of the week off? What the actual fuck?
You’re kidding me, right? You want me to study when someone I care about is bleeding and hurting and suffering? What sort of monster are you?
The response comes almost instantly.
The fatherly kind.
And that’s it. Just that. I send several more texts that he ignores, and then I shove up to my feet, wrenching my bedroom door open. Parrish’s is closed, but I can hear someone moving around inside. Even though I know it can’t possibly be him, a surge of stupid hope takes over anyway, and I find myself yanking the door open and stumbling inside.
It’s Maxx.
He’s sitting on the edge of Parrish’s bed, looking worn out and hopeless. Pretty sure he didn’t mean for anyone to see him that way. As soon as I set foot in the room, he stands up.
“Kota.” I love that he uses my nickname, but I’m not particularly thrilled to see him. He’s too perceptive. He knows that I know something, and he isn’t going to let it go until he finds out what that something is. “Are you okay? I knocked on your door earlier, but you didn’t answer.”
“Must’ve fallen asleep,” I offer, which is not at all what I wanted to say. I was sleeping while he was out searching for Parrish. That doesn’t make me look very good and, for some strange reason, I want to look good to Maxx. He’s my sister’s boyfriend, after all, and she’s more into him than any boy she’s ever been with. What if they get married? How will I ever live this down?
“Mm.” X ruffles up his hair with a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment, like he’s doing his best to regain his composure. “I’m sorry about earlier; I shouldn’t have come at you like that.” Sounds like someone was talking to Maxine, I think, forcing my tired lips into a semblance of a smile.
“No problem.” I pause, eyes flicking to the side where Parrish’s sketchbook is sitting, one of the green and black roses featured prominently on the exposed page. “For what it’s worth, I do care about Parrish. I want to find him just as much as anyone else.”
Silence stretches sticky and uncomfortable between us.
When I look back at Maxx, I find him staring at me.
“You know something,” he repeats, that edge of danger in his voice again. “Something big. I just can’t figure out why you’re keeping it to yourself.”
A shameful flush crawls up my cheeks and boobs, and I turn away toward the hallway.
