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“Threatening your neighbor?Tsk. Tsk.Time to run back to school before I call—”
Her face tightens. “Didn’t think that one through, did you?Call who, huh?Daddy?”
I tighten my jaw.
“Are you a straight sociopath, or what?” she asks.
I am.
“Help me,” she begs.
“If I help you, will you get the fuck out of my face? Damn snow-gnat, I swear to God, if there ever was a fucking thing.”
“Yes, I promise.” She grabs onto my sleeve with both hands.
My entire arm goes numb like I’ve been struck by a taser. There’s no skin on skin, just the mere need for me makes me react. What the hell is this?
Doesn’t matter. I’ve overstayed my welcome in this dark fantasy. Time to exit.
“The cops… their trail is cold.”
Chapter 3
Quinn
It was impossible to get anything out of that silver-haired, green-eyed fox of a neighbor. I followed him for blocks until he eventually got into a black-on-black SUV with taxi plates. No trail to follow. No nothing. All I have is my gut—it’s not the cartel who came after my father.
“The cops… their trail is cold,”Silver’s voice plagues my mind as I look up to the strange mark on the side of my house. It’s been hours of scouring the web and coming back out here to get another look.
If Silver hadn’t stared at it, I would never have noticed. At first glance, it looks like a scratch from a nail, but since I’ve been staring for about thirty minutes, I realize it’s purposefully shaded.
With a frustrated sigh, I pull out my phone and scroll to Uncle F.
He would think I’m losing my mind if I dialed him for this. I mean, look at this house… there are marks like it all over the siding. It’soldfor God’s sake.
He’ll placate me and convince me to stay with him and Mara again. I can hear the tone of his voice already. Like I’m a child. Some tucked away accountant in need of protection.
Thethumpof my father being thrown out of his room plagues my head. I wince, wishing it away. But the reality is here. He’s gone. Maybe dead.
God, don’t think like that, Quinn.
I’m drawn to the mansion behind me. Silver has answers. He’s too well dressed to be an ex-cop, and too loose to be ex-military. Maybe he’s a bigshot with Hollywood friends. Or…maybe he’s a gangster. Why else would he be in an abandoned,immaculatemovie studio house?
Looking at my phone again, I scoff and shove it into my pocket.
Tingles run up and down my legs as they carry me across the street. These tiny steps of courage send shockwaves throughout my body. Of course I froze up last night. I was trying to run before I could walk.
My bootsscrunchover the snow as I bypass the street slush and make way to the heated sidewalk of my neighbor’s house.
In no way should I be doing this right now. The rookie cop on duty—Jacob, or whatever—could be texting my uncle right now. Whatever… I don’t even turn to worry about it. The allure of Silver keeps me biting my lip, while the courage to find my dad keeps me walking.
He knows something,I repeat to myself.
I get to the gate blockinganotherwalkway up to his gorgeous white marble front door. It’s like somebody helicoptered the nicest mansion in Italy to dirty Jersey. When I wrap my mittens around the gate top, my breath hitches and I nearly fall as it swings.
It’s open? What the—
Swallowing past a lump in my throat, I carefully place the gate an inch from shutting behind me, and continue toward the haunted mansion of my mysterious neighbor. Hair stands on the back of my neck from acting like a criminal. Instances like this—being somewhere I shouldn’t—is paralyzing after making a thousand promises to Dad never to break the law.