Assassins: Slow Agony Part 4

"Hi, Knox," I said. "I've got a situation." I began to shove clothing into my bag, explaining at the same time what had happened. It didn't take as long as I thought it would.

He was quiet on the other end for several minutes after I finished talking.

I zipped up my duffel bag and slung it over my shoulder. "Knox?"

"I'm here," he said. "You still in your apartment?"

"Yes, but I'm getting ready to leave."

"You think that the police are on their way after your 911 call?"

"I called earlier," I said. "I gave my address then. I'm sure they'll be here soon. Do you think I should wait for them?"

"No," he said. "No, your instincts are right. Get the h.e.l.l out of there as quick as you can."

I strode out of my bedroom and out of the apartment, stopping to pick up my keys as I did. I didn't bother locking the apartment when I left. I never did. It was Thomas. There hadn't been a crime here in like...

Oh G.o.d. I was going to cry again. I clutched the railing outside my apartment, willing myself to hold it together. "He killed her, Knox."

"Yeah," said Knox.

"G.o.ddammit," I said. I pounded down the steps. "And he says he's following me. Do you think he is?"

"Oh, probably," said Knox. He sighed. "Hey, Leigh, I'm really sorry about this."

"It's not your fault," I said. I pulled open the door to my car and threw my duffel bag inside. "It's Griffin's."

Knox was quiet again. "I heard that you two, um... That things didn't work out."

Right. I hadn't actually talked to Knox since the breakup. Knox was an ex-a.s.sa.s.sin like Griffin. He'd helped us go into Operation Wraith and stop everyone who'd been trying to kill us. He was a friend, but only because of the past we shared, not because we actually had anything in common. He was trying his best to live out a quiet life with his baby daughter Dixie. But I hadn't told Knox about Griffin and me. So that could only mean that Griffin had. "You've talked to him, then."

"Yeah," said Knox.

"Did he tell you-"

"We don't have to worry about that," he said, but I could tell from his tone of voice that he knew.

"Did he tell you that he ran off and left me, and that's the only reason why I did it?"

"Leigh, I don't blame you. None of my business. Seriously."

Did I believe him? Did it matter? Oh G.o.d, oh G.o.d, my best friend was lying under a sheet on my couch with a bullet in her head. How could I even think about my issues with Griffin? I got inside the car and gripped the steering wheel. f.u.c.k. I was going to cry again, wasn't I?

"Let's just get you out of there," he said.

"That's what I'm doing," I said. I put the key in the ignition and turned it. The engine came to life along with the radio. Adele. "Rolling in the Deep."

I jumped. How did I handle listening to that so loud?

I turned it down. "Sorry."

"It's okay," he said. "You get your a.s.s on the road and come here. To me. As soon as you can."

I pulled the car door closed and fastened my seatbelt. "No, Knox, that's not why I called. I can't do that to you. This guy is following me, and I don't want to put you and Dixie in danger. You got out, and you have a baby. I want you to stay out."

"That's the thing, Leigh. I don't know of anyone named Marcel. I don't think that guy is Op Wraith. So, it kind of doesn't matter whether I'm out or not, because I'm not sure it has anything to do with me."

"He healed."

"Are you sure you really killed him?"

I thought I was. But... "I think so."

"Anyway, you know you're always welcome here."

"I'm not coming to you."

"But I also care about my daughter. And maybe you're right that it's better for us to stay out of it unless we have to," he said. "So, here's what you're going to do. You're going to drive to the biggest town you can drive to. Get as lost in traffic as you possibly can. And then go someplace and buy yourself another phone. Ditch this one somewhere. Can you do that?"

"Yeah," I said. I pulled the car out of my parking lot. "Sounds good."

"All right," he said. "Once you got a new phone, call me again. I'll tell you where to go from there."

"How are you going to figure that out?"

"I'm going to call Griffin."

My stomach turned over. "Don't do that."

"I have to, Leigh."

"No," I said. "I don't want to see him. He doesn't want to see me." That wasn't exactly true. I did want to see him. I'd wanted to see him every day since he'd walked out of my life. I missed him so much. His absence was a dark ache in my gut. Always there. Always hurting.

In the background, Adele accused her old lover, telling him how they could have had it all.

I snapped the radio off. The lyrics. .h.i.t too close to home.

"Look, this Marcel guy knows who he is, but neither of us know a thing about Marcel. And if he's threatening you, I'm pretty sure Griffin wants to know about that."

I laughed bitterly. "I don't think he cares. He hates me."

"He..." Knox floundered. "I'm sure he doesn't hate you. He wouldn't want you hurt on his account."

"Yeah, I'm not so sure about that." I bit my lip, easing my car out onto the main road. "Anyway, this Marcel guy isn't looking him up for a friendly chat. Griffin's in danger. Don't tell him anything. He could get hurt." I still cared about him. I didn't want anything to happen to him.

"You could get hurt."

"Please, Knox. Just find another way?"

He sighed. "Call me once you have another phone."

I debated on going to Morgantown or c.u.mberland. c.u.mberland was a little bit closer. Morgantown was a little bit bigger. In the end, I found myself on the way to c.u.mberland and so I went that way. I wasn't sure if it mattered.

While I drove, I kept my eye on the cars around me. For long stretches of time, there were no cars behind me at all. None in front of me. Only an occasional one pa.s.sing me.

Was this guy following me or not?

I had to a.s.sume that he was. But he'd also threatened to kill people in Thomas. How could he kill people in Thomas and follow me at the same time?

He was lying about something. He was bluffing to scare me.

It was working.

He'd shot Naomi without a second thought. The violence was casual, easy. He didn't care if he killed another person. He was inhuman and unfeeling. And that was terrifying.

So I'd do what he said, even if his threats didn't make sense. Even if I wasn't sure he was following me or not.

The road stretched out ahead of me, and I drove. I tried not to think about Naomi, about the way she'd sobbed in terror before Marcel had shot her dead. I tried not to think about my friend Stacey, last year, her eyes gla.s.sy and empty as she lay on the floor of her house. She was dead too. Both of them. Dead. Because I'd befriended them.

If Griffin was here, he might give me some bulls.h.i.t story about how loss was the only way someone understood the importance of life. But Griffin wasn't here. And I knew life was important. People didn't need to die for me to realize that.

I bit my lip hard. I concentrated on not falling apart. I drove.

I thought about Marcel again. The more I thought about this guy, the less sense he made to me. He wanted Griffin, right?

So why involve Naomi at all?

If he was so sure that I could contact Griffin, then why not simply capture me and force me to call Griffin myself? Certainly, if he thought we were still together, my terrified voice would have worked better.

For that matter, if he was so sure that I had Griffin's phone number, why didn't he go through my phone himself?

It had been sitting on my coffee table, as he'd pointed out to me.

Maybe he'd looked at the phone while I was sleeping. Maybe he'd seen that Griffin's name wasn't there, and that was why he woke me up.

Ugh. None of it made any sense. Knox said the guy wasn't Op Wraith. But he hadn't died when I shot him.

He mentioned something about jail. Maybe he was someone Griffin knew in jail. But if that were true, why did he want Griffin?

Thinking of Marcel was making me think of Griffin. My Griffin. The man I thought I'd be spending the rest of my life with. And it was hurting too much. I wasn't going to see Griffin again.

My thoughts were jagged and painful. Everything that occurred to me was something I shouldn't think about. All my thoughts hurt too much. I needed to stay alert. If I let myself wallow in anything that was happening to me, I might lose my mind. So I couldn't let these thoughts overtake me.

Instead, I put on some music that I'd loved since I was sixteen. A band that had been popular when I was in high school. I knew all the words, and I sang it at the top of my lungs, effectively blocking out anymore thoughts. And when I started to feel guilty for singing when my best friend was dead, I just told myself to shut up.

I dialed Knox on my new phone. I was in the Wal-Mart parking lot, and the phone was one of those disposable kinds. The ones where you have to buy minutes for them.

"h.e.l.lo?" he said.

"It's me," I said. The sun was high in the sky now. It was nearly noon, a brilliant day in the balmy month of May. I hated that the weather was so cheerful. It was taunting me.

"This your new number?"

"Yeah," I said.

"All right," he said. "You in c.u.mberland?"

"Yes," I said. "How did you...?"

"It was either that or Morgantown. c.u.mberland's a tad closer, right?"

"Right," I said in a quiet voice.

"Okay," he said. "Here's what you do next. You're going to meet someone at a restaurant called D'atri. You know where that is, right?"

"Yeah," I said. I hadn't been there in a while. They had the most amazing subs. It was the salad dressing they used on the lettuce, I thought. Something about it was positively delicious. But I hadn't been there since Griffin and I- "You did call him."

"Leigh," he said. "I had to."

Chapter Three.

"Here you go," said the waiter. "The menu you got before didn't have the insert with the specials." He whisked away the menu I'd been staring at and placed another one in its place.

A piece of paper was face up, reading, "Act natural. Don't let on you recognize me."

I raised my gaze slowly to the waiter. It was Griffin.

My breath caught in my throat. He was wearing the D'Atri uniform, just like a waiter. His shoulders were still as broad and strong as they had been the last time I saw him, his chest still as muscled. His eyes were the same steely gray.

The last time I'd looked into those eyes they'd been full of accusation and hurt. He'd called me selfish and petty and shallow. Now, they were blank and expressionless. He looked at me coolly. "Can I get you something to drink while you decide?"

I tried to speak, but nothing came out.

"Maybe just some water then," he said. He tapped the piece of paper. "Make sure you read the specials carefully." And then he was gone.

I turned back to the "specials" and continued to read. "Wait for two minutes and then go to the bathroom. Fold this piece of paper up and put it in your pocket."

I read it over and over again, looking for some hint of emotion in it somewhere.