He hangs up and we turn around in the driveway, exiting through the gate and driving the five or so blocks back to Tess’ house. The crowd of reporters has turned into a veritable throng, like a swarm of bees surrounding a hive. No, no, scratch that—like a swarm of wasps. Bees at least pollinate things; wasps are awful, disgusting, biting assholes. That’s how I see the reporters, like something that needs to be caught in a trap.
It takes Maxx the better part of fifteen minutes to push his way through them, driving at about two miles per hour and basically shoving the paparazzi out of the way with his Jeep as I flip up the hood of the sweatshirt and try to hide my face from the cameras.
Once we’re inside, Maxx parks inside the garage and I climb out, hands shaking, dread filling my entire body. My feet are leaden as I trudge toward the door, opening it to find Tess waiting for me in the entryway.
Much to my surprise, she’s crying, too.
“Don’t make me believe I’ve lost you again,” she breathes, and then for some inexplicable reason, she’s hugging me. Tess Vanguard, queen of crime and thriller novels, bestselling author since freaking forever, is hugging me. It’s the first time she’s actually hugged me since we met back in New York.
It throws me for a loop, and I go completely still. But then, I must still be traumatized from seeing a dead girl and watching my sixth period teacher shoot a rapist in the face, so I end up hugging her back, too.
“I miss him, Tess. I miss him,” I whisper, and she sniffles and strokes my hair back, holding me so close that I might actually believe she loved me if I hadn’t read that page from her typewriter. Am I a tool to be used to further her career? Just a pawn? Does she actually care about me? As my grandfather used to say: ‘words are worth pennies; follow-through is worth billions’. When I asked him what he meant by that, he explained how easy it is to say you’re going to do the right thing, but how much it really costs to act on those promises.
I want Tess to show me through actions and not words that she cares. As a writer, I’m sure that’s hard for her. But it’d mean the world to me, it really would.
“I miss him, too,” she tells me, pulling back slightly and looking down at me. Her face hardens then, back into that bestselling author persona. For once, I’m actually relieved to see it. “We’re going to get him back, no matter what.” Tess looks up and over my shoulder at X, nodding her chin in thanks. “I appreciate you finding her, Maxx. You’re like a son to me, you know that?”
I can hear the sad smile in his voice when he replies.
“I appreciate that,” he tells her, moving up to stand beside me. I wish I didn’t notice his presence the way I do, cataloguing every movement he makes without even meaning to. It makes me feel like such a traitor when it comes to Maxine, but I push that feeling aside. Talk is cheap, act like a billionaire. I’m buying self-control like it’s going out of style. “I’d like to stay in Parrish’s room again if that’s okay?”
Tess offers a small nod, and Maxx gives me a quick flick of the eyes before heading up the spiral staircase to the second floor. I start to move away, too, but Tess reaches out and puts a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“I know you’re probably tired, but we need to talk before you go upstairs.”
I swallow hard, but nod my acquiescence, allowing Tess to escort me into the kitchen. She prepares a drink for herself and a hot tea for me. Somehow, without even knowing, she guesses that my favorite is peppermint with a dash of honey.
“I do listen sometimes, you know,” she says as she hands it over to me, and I give her a skeptical look in response. “You mentioned this was your favorite the first time we met …” Tess trails off a moment, and we end up staring at each other. It’s like, here we are facing the most horrible situation that anyone could imagine, and yet … we’re making progress? They say you get to know yourself and others best when under fire, so maybe that’s what this is? Growth through crisis. “Shall we sit outside?”
Without waiting for a response, Tess heads over to the balcony doors and pushes them open. With a single tap of a button, she lowers an automatic awning and then tugs an additional shade down on the side, blocking us from the view of the reporters without entirely obscuring the view of the lake.
