Page 18 of Griffin (Pecan Pines #3)

Chapter 18

Michael

T he bus slowed to a stop, its automatic announcement system crackling to life: “ Pinewood Avenue .”

The doors hissed open, and I watched as a small group of passengers shuffled on and off.

The driver didn’t move to close the doors right away, though. Instead, an elderly woman approached at her own slow pace.

She gave him a grateful nod before stepping up and glancing around with a sheepish smile. Most passengers returned her smile, unbothered by the brief delay.

I found myself doing the same. No one seemed in a rush today—least of all me.

I wasn’t exactly eager to stream, that was for sure. In fact, I didn’t even have to.

My game review video wasn’t due until tomorrow, and I’d already told Todd I had plans for the day.

Yet somehow, here I was, gripping my phone in irritation after his earlier message.

You need to do it today. This afternoon.

No explanation. No apology.

After what happened when we met up in Cinderfield, Todd had stopped replying to my messages.

At first, I’d convinced myself he was probably just swamped with other work—he always had a lot on his plate. But after a few days without a single response, that excuse started to feel flimsy.

Eventually, I stopped trying—maybe he needed space, I told myself, or maybe I’d done something wrong and just didn’t realize it.

Still, it stung. It wasn’t until my last stream, the one where I told everyone I’d be taking some personal time, that he finally decided to message me again.

The bus jerked to a halt as the automated announcement crackled: " Pecan Pines Boulevard ."

I rose from my seat and stepped off, the cool breeze brushing my face as I headed toward Griffin’s place.

For all Todd’s insistence, I wasn’t about to drop everything and rush back to stream—not today.

I hadn’t even bothered to ask why he was pushing so hard, and honestly, I didn’t want to.

Whatever was going on between us, it wasn’t going to fix itself if I pushed too hard. Best to give it some air, let things settle.

Besides, it was too nice a day to spend locked inside.

As I walked, a flicker of movement caught my eye. A large black bird swooped low overhead, its red-tipped tail feathers catching the light as it landed on a nearby lamppost. My steps faltered.

It looked exactly like the bird I’d seen that night outside GamesCon.

The memory hit me all at once—sharp and unwelcome. Back then, I’d been drowning in everything: work, the stalker, the mounting pressure to keep up appearances.

For just a moment, the bird had been a distraction, a strange little anchor that pulled me out of my spiraling thoughts. But the calm hadn’t lasted.

Because right after that, I met my stalker.

The familiar weight of dread crept in at the edges of my thoughts, but I shook it off. That night hadn’t been all bad, had it?

It had also led me to Griffin, to this unexpected new chapter in my life. I smiled faintly. Things were different now. Better.

Griffin’s place came into view, and I pulled out the key he’d had made for me.

My thumb traced its edges as I approached the door. I paused for a second, considering something.

Maybe I’d ask Griffin to visit his dad again soon. My visit earlier had been cut short, and I wanted to do it properly next time.

Before I could unlock the door, a hand landed on my shoulder.

“Todd?” I froze, my heart thudding in my chest.

He was the last person I expected to see here. A nervous laugh escaped me as I turned to face him.

“Hey, Mikey.” Todd grinned, the edges of it just a little too sharp.

I didn’t like the nickname. Only Casey ever called me that, and usually when he was annoyed.

I might’ve mentioned it to Todd once, years ago, but hearing it now— from him —felt weird. Unsettling.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my hand still gripping the key in the lock.

Todd shrugged, his gaze darting around the porch. “What, can’t I visit my best friend?”

“No, I mean…” I turned fully to face him, frowning. “What are you doing here ? How did you even know I’d be here?”

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Isn’t this Griffin’s place? Didn’t one of you mention it the other day at lunch?”

Did we?

I tried to think back, but nothing came to mind. Something about it felt off.

I knew I hadn’t mentioned it, and I doubted Griffin would’ve said anything either. But how did Todd know?

Before I could make sense of it, Todd stepped closer, slinging an arm around my shoulder. The weight of it startled me. My whole body tensed.

“Aren’t you going to let me in?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah, sure.” The words slipped out automatically, even though every instinct screamed at me to shut the door and bolt it.

I pushed it open, stepping aside as Todd walked in like he owned the place.

He paused, looking around the room with an expression I couldn’t quite read. My pulse thudded in my ears, and I tried to shake the uneasy feeling crawling up my spine.

“Do you want a drink or something?” I offered, heading straight for the kitchen.

My hands felt clumsy as I grabbed two glasses from the cabinet. I focused on the simple motions—reach, grab, set them down—like they could anchor me. Still, my fingers trembled.

Behind me, Todd’s voice broke the silence. “You sure know your way around here.”

I turned, glass in hand, and froze. Todd was standing by the coat rack, his fingers curled around the edge of a sleeve—my sweater. He lifted it to his face and inhaled deeply.

A shiver ran down my spine. I tried to shake it off, but the feeling of his eyes on me lingered.

“Uh, yeah.” I forced a laugh. “Griffin lets me work here sometimes.”

I set the glasses on the counter a little harder than I meant to. “Oh, is that why you’re here? To check whether I was going to stream?” I tried to keep my tone light, but my voice still wavered.

Todd raised an eyebrow, taking the water I offered him. “No. I just felt bad about how we left things the other day and thought I’d come by to clear the air.”

“Ha.” The brittle laugh escaped before I could stop it. I looked away, running a hand through my hair. “You didn’t have to come all this way for that.”

“It’s no trouble.” Todd waved me off with a grin that didn’t quite sit right. “In fact, I was thinking we could go out for ice cream after you stream. I found this place in the next town over—they have waffle cones and a ton of toppings. Just the way you like it.”

I froze. That sounded almost exactly like the order I’d gotten with Griffin at Cinderfield.

No. It didn’t mean anything.

In all the years I’ve known Todd, we must’ve had ice cream together at some point. Maybe he just remembered what I liked.

A coincidence—that’s all it was. It had to be.

The silence stretched too long. Todd watched me with an expectant smile, but something about it felt off.

“You know what? Why don’t I call Griffin and see if he wants to join us?” I said quickly, reaching for my phone.

Todd’s smile faltered, just a little. His gaze darkened, flicking to the phone in my hand. For half a second, he didn’t move. Then?—

“No!” His voice cracked like a whip, sharp and raw. Before I could react, he lunged forward, snatching the phone from my hand.

The sound of it hitting the floor was jarring, followed by a sickening crack as the screen shattered.

“Jesus, Todd!” I gasped, staring at the broken phone.

Todd laughed—a harsh, humorless sound that sent a shiver down my spine. I looked up, and for the first time, I really saw him.

His grin didn’t belong on his face. His eyes glinted with something wild and bright.

Details jumped out at me: his rumpled shirt, creased pants with faint stains, dark stubble shadowing his jaw. Cuts and bruises peppered his forearms.

What the hell had he been doing?

“Todd…” My voice came out quieter than I intended, my hand lifting instinctively toward him before I could stop myself. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped. The sharp edge in his voice made me flinch, but then, just as abruptly, it softened. “I’m fine,” he repeated.

For a second, I thought he might pull away. Instead, his hand shot out, gripping my arm so tightly it hurt.

“Right. Yeah.” His gaze darted around. “I’ll get you a new phone. I’ll get you anything you want.”

I yanked back, my breath catching. “Wait, Todd, what are you doing?” He didn’t answer.

I blinked, disoriented. Somehow, we were now at the entryway. I hadn’t even realized we’d moved—had Todd dragged me here? How did we get here so fast?

“Everything’s going to be just fine,” Todd muttered under his breath.

His voice was low and sing-song, each word pitched wrong. My stomach knotted, dread spreading through my chest like ice water.

“Just you and me. Everything’s going to be fine. Just you and me. Everything’s going to be fine.”

He kept repeating it, but it didn’t sound like he was talking to me. I tried to pull free, digging my heels into the floor as panic sparked through me.

“Todd, stop!” My voice broke as I shouted. “Griffin?—”

Todd stopped. His whole body jerked, and for a split second, I thought he was going to let me go. Then he turned.

The way he moved was all wrong—too fast, too sharp, like a puppet whose strings had been yanked.

His face twisted, baring his teeth in a snarl, but it was his eyes that froze me in place. They gleamed in the dim light—a bright, unnatural gold.

“Stop saying his name,” he hissed. His voice didn’t sound human anymore.

What the hell is happening?

My breath hitched as a sharp sting ran up my arm. I gasped, feeling a warm trickle slide down my skin.

Slowly, I looked down. His hand—no, not a hand—dug into my arm.

His fingers had elongated into sharp talons, dark and gleaming like obsidian blades. Feathers sprouted along the back—black and glossy, their tips dipped in crimson.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“Todd…” My voice barely escaped my lips.

His eyes, now a dark golden hue, locked onto mine, his grip tightening as his lips curled.

“It’s just us now,” he growled. “No one else. Not Griffin. No one. Just you and me.”