*
I woke up a few hours later and checked the clock. It was already seven in the morning. I nudged Tray awake and whispered, “I need to go to school.”
“’Kay,” he mumbled as he rolled over.
I nudged him again. “You have to drive me. My car’s there.”
Sleepily, he reached for his pants and grabbed his keys inside the pocket. He passed them to me, and yawned. “Park it in the lot.”
“Thanks,” I said happily as I climbed over him and headed into the shower. Tray had moved all the needed essentials into his bathroom the previous day—it had been our agreement. I’d been scared he wouldn’t get around to it, so I made him do it that instant, otherwise I wasn’t going to sleep over.
Stepping underneath the shower spray, I was thankful for my foresight.
When I moved back into his room, grimacing at my old clothes, I saw Tray was staring at me. Now wide awake.
“What?” I asked, my hands pausing as I moved to dress.
“You’re up early. Why?”
“What are you talking about?”
“What are you planning, Taryn?” he demanded insistently.
“I’m going to school.”
“Taryn,” he said firmly, standing up, his muscles rippled with his lithe movements, “look, you need to know some stuff before you go off on your little rampage.”
“Like what?” I asked, now interested.
“My dad was chief of police. I know all about Galverson.”
“What?” That threw me. “How? What do you know?”
“It’s not…look…all those people that have been telling you to keep your nose out—they’re saying it for a reason.”
“What do you know about Galverson?” I couldn’t believe his nerve. Now he was joining their ranks?
“Galverson is a heavy hitter.”
“You’re telling me this now? Why not last night?”
“Because you were pissed last night. You weren’t thinking clearly.”
“I’m still not.”
“You’re thinking better.” He snorted, raking a hand through his
hair. He was tired, he always did that when he was tired. “Look, whatever you dig up on Galverson—come to me before you do anything. Okay.”
“Why?” I was dreading his answer, because I knew…
“Just do it.”
I finished dressing and moved to leave, but Tray blocked me. “Promise me,” he pressed, serious.
“I promise,” I said in resignation.
Tray studied my face, searching for the truth. He must not have fully believed me because he added, “It’s how Jace and I know each other, the little business deal we worked out. Galverson’s the reason my dad’s not the chief of police anymore and why he’s in South America with my mom. Why we can afford this place.”