Secret Page 51

He grabbed a can of soda from the refrigerator and dragged his physics textbook out of his backpack.

As soon as he looked at the page, he realized he didn’t want to be doing this.

His cell phone rang.

Nick looked at the display and smiled. He pushed the button to answer. “You are my hero.”

“I like the sound of that.” Adam’s voice was rich and warm in his ear, and Nick realized this was the first time they’d talked on the phone.

He wanted him to keep talking.

“How was dance?”

“Could’ve been better.” Adam sighed, and his voice was tired. “Quinn didn’t show up.”

Nick ran a hand down his face, feeling his emotions vacillate between worry and exasperation. “Man, I’m sorry.”

“She texted me that she couldn’t make it. It’s all right . . .

man.”

Nick could hear the smile in his voice. “What are you going to do?”

“Would you think less of me if I said I had a backup routine?”

“I wouldn’t think less of you if you had a backup partner.”

“Good. I’ve got one of those, too.”

Nick blinked. “Really?”

“Nothing official, but I could get one of the girls from the studio to dance with me. I liked Quinn for this piece because it’s raw and edgy and passionate, and she fit the part.” He sighed.

“Enough about dance. How’s your night?”

“The height of awesome. I’m sitting in an empty house with my physics textbook.”

“Want to come over?”

Nick’s heart bounced around in his chest. “Can’t. I don’t have the car.”

“How long are you alone?”

“I don’t know. Three hours, maybe?”

Adam hesitated. “Want some company?”

Just the words sent a curl of desire winding through Nick’s thoughts. He told his thoughts to get real. “God, I wish.”

“How far do you live from a bus stop?”

Nick straightened. Adam could not come here. Could not. “I have no idea.”

“How far do you live from Ritchie Highway?”

Nick wet his lips and hesitated. He should be telling Adam that there was no way this could work. But when he opened his mouth, he found himself saying, “Three blocks. We’re on Chautauga. Just south of the community college.”

“Near the firehouse, right?”

Of course Adam would know the area. “Ah . . . yeah.”

“I can be there in fifteen minutes. Twenty, tops.” Adam’s voice dropped. “So let me ask you again. Want some company?”

Quinn sat in Tyler’s truck and stared at her apartment building. Her mom’s car was in the lot. So was Jake’s. That didn’t mean much other than that their cars hadn’t been towed. If her brother had been arrested, his car could still be here, right?

What about her mom?

She’d been waiting for a call to the guidance office all day, expecting to find a social worker sitting in the waiting room or something. She was prepared for hushed voices to say things like, “We didn’t realize how bad things had gotten. We have a few options, but we’re going to take care of you . . .”

But that call never came. Quinn slogged through her classes, making her way toward the end of the day, hating the thought of going home.

She’d been ready to ride the bus all night, but Tyler texted to ask if she wanted to be his rooftop companion for the evening.

Without Nick, she didn’t have a ride to the dance studio.

Without Tyler, she didn’t have a place to sleep for the night.

Rooftop taquitos it was.

It had been nice to sit in the nighttime quiet, to eat and drink and not worry that someone was going to hassle her. She’d told Tyler about school, about waiting for the call that never came.

She’d confided her fears that her brother might have done something to her mother. That maybe Jordan had come home and Jake had hurt him. That maybe the cops hadn’t come at all.

That maybe Quinn had walked out of one mess, only to leave a bigger disaster in her wake.

“You don’t have to go up there,” said Tyler. “I can check on them if you want.”

Quinn shook her head. Sit down here and wonder if her brother was going to answer the door with a gun in his hand?

“I’ll go. Wait here.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m letting you go up there alone.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m letting you—”

“Jesus, do you need to be balls-to-the-wall about everything?

If you want to go up, go up. I won’t get in your way.”

She thought that meant he was going to wait in the truck after all, but when she climbed the stairs, he was right behind her.

Halfway up, she stopped short at the tiny landing. “Am I being an idiot?”

“Of everyone I’ve met in your family, you seem like the least idiotic.”

Well, that wasn’t really saying all that much. “My mom and I—we’ve never gotten along.”

“I kind of assumed that when you told me she was knocking you around.”

“She’s not—she’s under a lot of stress—”

“So are you. So am I. I don’t give a shit, Quinn. Your mom is messed up. So is your brother. And what the f**k is your dad—”

“Okay, okay. Forget it.” She spun away from him.

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