I shove those feelings down as hard as I can, backing away from them like the monstrous things they are.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me that Chasm’s father’s company provided the security systems and cameras for our house?”
“Does it matter?” Maxx queries, cursing under his breath as he takes in the parking situation outside the café. He’s going to have to circle the block a few times to find a spot or else use one of the nearby parking garages. Seattle is sort of … ehh to me. I miss the Catskills.
“I guess not,” I reply, slipping my phone back in the pocket of my blazer. But it does matter. Because that commenter is right, and they’ve brought up something that’s been on my mind since that night. The security cameras just happened to be recording to a full drive? They also just happened to be disconnected from the network and unable to upload the videos to the cloud? That isn’t accidental.
Somebody messed with them.
But who? The kidnapper? Paul? Chasm? Delphine? Shit, it could’ve been Tess herself.
I’ve made myself a spreadsheet on my phone to keep track of clues—I know, I’m too much sometimes even for myself—and write that tidbit down to explore later. I’ll talk to Chasm about it tonight.
Maxx finally snags a space not too far away, using the automatic parallel parking feature on his car to squeeze us into a disturbingly small spot.
We climb out together and walk the two blocks without talking. There just isn’t a lot to say right now. He thinks I’m a liar; I know I’m a liar. But we can’t really reconcile those two things without causing harm to Parrish.
Parrish.
I swallow past the hurt and open the glass door to the café, stumbling back when Maxine appears out of nowhere and throws her arms around my neck.
“Oh, Kota, I’ve been so worried,” she murmurs, squeezing me so hard that she nearly hugs the tears right out of me. I want so badly to curl up in her arms and pretend I’m twelve all over again, that I’ve just gotten my period and I’m weeping while she pets my hair and murmurs comforting things for hours. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” I manage to choke out as Maxine pulls away and puts her hands on my shoulders, looking me over with an assessing eye. “Really, Maxie, I’m fine.” She lifts her gaze up to stare at X over my shoulder.
“Does she look okay to you?” she asks him before immediately returning her gaze to me. “You look skinnier. Have you been eating? X, I told you to make sure she was eating.”
He holds up his hands in protest as he moves out of the way of the door so a couple can scoot past us.
“I made her coffee this morning,” he promises as my sister narrows her eyes at me. “I watched her drink it.”
Maxine purses her lips and then puts an arm around my shoulders, guiding me over to the table. It is, coincidentally, the same table that we sat at the day we were caught by Tess. Not only does it hurt to sit down on the same bench that Parrish used when he was here, but it also gives me a bad feeling.
This is an omen. I mean, I don’t really believe in omens, but it’s hard not to take this as a sign of bad things to come.
Ugh, I hate being right.
“How are you holding up?” Maxine asks, pushing over an iced double chocolate mocha with extra whip and chocolate drizzle. I smile as I tuck the drink between my hands and drag it close; my sister knows me so well. Most small problems can be solved with coffee and chocolate.
This … isn’t exactly a small problem. Still, the gesture warms my heart.
“Stressed-out. Sad. Angry,” I admit, taking a drink as X settles into the seat on my right. There’s a watermelon Italian soda waiting for him because Maxie is just awesome like that. She’d take care of the whole world if she could.
Maxine reaches out and takes one of my hands in hers, giving it a warm squeeze before rubbing her thumb across my knuckles in a soothing motion. Her eyes, so much like Saffron’s, so much like mine, study me carefully. I know she can see the dark circles under my eyes, the sallow color of my skin. It’s no secret that I’ve been having trouble sleeping.
“None of this is your fault, you know that, right?” she tells me, unaware that her gentle words are like a knife to the heart. Nearly all of this is my fault, actually. If the kidnapper is to be believed, he’s my father. And he chose Parrish for a reason. Because of me. Because I fell in love with him? “This whole mess isn’t on your shoulders, Kota.” Maxine exhales and casts a wary glance over at X. He isn’t looking at her, however. Instead, he’s staring at me like he thinks he can dig up all my secrets. “I saw your video,” she explains, forcing a smile. “I’m glad you’re back on social media; you have a ton of followers now.”
