Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

ZANE

Our night is shot.

Grey hops around our bedroom, pulling on her panties and bra while fielding a thousand calls that suddenly flooded her cell phone.

"No, I haven't heard anything official, Mrs. Henderson," she's saying as she crawls to all fours and peeks under the bed.

I imagined her perched like that a thousand times and, if she wasn't so desperate to find her pants, I'd probably give her a good smack.

Unfortunately, she finds her pants and hides her perfect, round backside from me.

"I haven't gotten any calls from the police. No, not yet. But I'm heading out to investigate."

Like hell she will.

I glare at her.

She glares back at me.

The person on the line must have said something off-putting because she turns her face to the side. Her lips smash into a thin line and she uses that stern, teacher tone. "Mrs. Henderson, I assure you that while we had our differences, I did not wish Principal Harris psychical harm. I resent the insinuation that I was involved in any of this and I hope you don't repeat anything like that to the students who'll undoubtedly be confused and alarmed while they grieve."

She's angry. Whenever Grey starts using lots of stiff, fancy words one after the other, it means she's at the end of her patience. That English degree spoiled her ability to use regular old curse words to tell someone off.

"Like I said, I don't know any details." Her voice thickens with exasperation. She hunts around my bed. "If you'll excuse me, the Vice Principal is calling." She taps a button and puts the phone back against her ear. "Hello, Vice Principal Vincent? Yes, I'm aware of Principal Harris's passing. No, I don't know any more information than you and I don't understand why you'd assume that I would."

Feeling sorry for her and realizing she'll probably never find all her clothes after I flung it who knows where, I walk over to my closet and pull out a hoodie.

A grateful little smile flits over her face and it almost makes up for the regret that hits me when she covers her generous tits with the shapeless jacket. At least she's wearing my hoodie. It's oversized and swallows her lean frame, but it looks good on her.

"No, I haven't yet been contacted by the police." She tosses the phone, tucks the hoodie so it's cropped into her pants stylishly, and grabs the phone back from the bed in one smooth motion.

I stare at her, impressed.

"Oh, wait… Vice Principal, I'm getting another call. It could be the police. Yes. Yes, I understand. We'll talk more at school tomorrow. Good night."

Grey pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs heavily.

"The VP has Jinx's app?" I ask, an eyebrow arched.

"He doesn't need to. Everyone who has her app probably called him to let him know." Grey distractedly answers her ringing phone. "Hello? Yes, this is Grace Jamieson."

I watch her face pinch in worry. Five minutes ago, she was vibrating under my hand, fingers digging in my hair as I got close enough to taste her. Five minutes ago, the only thing she was worried about was whether or not her spine could handle arching off the bed at that angle.

Now, she looks like she's about to tear her hair out.

I want to walk behind her and massage her shoulders, take some of her tension away. But I don't trust myself to touch her right now.

I'm too amped up.

If my hands brush an inch of her beautiful skin, I'm going to lock the door, throw her back on the bed and show her what ‘letting the world burn' means.

But Grey isn't like me.

And I know I can't push it tonight.

"Yes, I can be at the station," Grey says. She sits on the edge of the bed and pulls on her socks. The phone, pinned between her face and shoulder, keeps slipping from her cheek.

I drop to my knees in front of her, right where I'd knelt a short while ago for very different circumstances, and grab her sneakers. That earns me another grateful look.

After helping Grey slip on her shoes, I follow her out the door and down the stairs.

"Thank you. Yes, I'll be there soon."

Voices come from the kitchen.

Everyone is up except for Viola.

Cadence glances between us when we appear. " Finally ."

"What took you so long?" Dutch scolds.

Finn's eyes slide from my messy hair to the hoodie that Grey's wearing. He says nothing.

"Sorry. We were, uh," Grey falters, "occupied."

Cadey's eyes widen.

My twin gives me an inquiring look.

I shake my head.

I get a commiserating nod in return.

"Grey, you want some water before we leave?" I walk to the fridge. Since I can't take a cold shower, cold water will have to do.

"Before we leave?" She plants a hand on her hip, not accepting the water I offer.

"You're not going to the police without me."

"Sure. The cops won't have any questions about why I'm being escorted by a male student this late at night."

"That's none of their business," I say.

"You're technically step-siblings. They won't question it if you inform them," Finn points out.

Grey shudders and rubs her head as if she has a headache. "Do not remind me that we're step-siblings."

I wonder why she's acting so mortified now. She didn't care what we were when she was sucking on my lips like it was her oxygen.

"If someone has to go with Grey, I'll go," Cadey says. "After everything with mom, I know my way around a station."

"I can go alone."

"You go with Cadey or you go with me." My voice is hard.

Noticing that I won't budge, she gives in. Hurling an angry ‘fine' at my head like it's a dagger on a dartboard, she stalks to the door.

"Don't worry. I'll go with them."

I nod.

Dutch follows both Cadey and Grey. My wife doesn't so much as give me a backward glance.

Finn must pick up on her disinterest in me because he takes the water that Grey never accepted.

Unscrewing the top, he starts, "You two were…?"

I'm surprised he's curious.

"Believe it or not." I drain the rest of my water and then crush the plastic. "Good ole' Principal Harris. Always a buzzkill."

"You realize he's… dead, right?"

"Exactly. Once a buzzkill, always a buzzkill. Guy couldn't even go quietly."

Finn rolls his eyes.

He thinks I'm being dramatic, but I'm dead-serious, no pun intended. I'm starting to think there's some kind of curse on us. The world is conspiring against my marriage. I just want my wife groaning in satisfaction for one night. Can't I have one uninterrupted night, dammit?

"Sol is texting the group chat," Finn declares, eyes on his phone. "I think he just found out Harris is dead."

Finn's mention of the group chat reminds me I don't have my phone on. I need to make sure Grey can text me if she's in trouble.

Bounding away from Finn without explanation, I throw my bedroom door open and power my phone back on.

As I wait for it to go through its rebooting procedure, I return to the kitchen.

Finn is still there, texting.

"What did Sol say?"

"You have your phone. Find out yourself," he says.

"Aren't you in the group chat?" I crane my neck to see what's on his phone. Finn presses a button and the screen goes black.

"What are you hiding, Finny?"

He bristles. "Call me that again. I dare you."

My brothers really shouldn't dare me. I was never the type that could walk away from a challenge. No matter how stupid.

"Finn—"

A new message on my bright phone screen catches my eyes.

I stop mid-tease and scoop it up, tapping on the message. "Freaking hell."

Finn runs around the counter. Although he almost bit my head off for looking at his phone screen, he has no problem staring at mine.

My hand falls listlessly to my side.

I choke on the feeling of helplessness that crawls over me like black sludge.

I've been the family screw-up long enough that it doesn't bother me anymore, but this isn't about me or my brothers.

This is about Grey.

I'd die if it meant keeping all my promises to her.

But this… this is a really bad start.

Finn snaps the phone from me and pulls it close, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Is this?—"

"Yeah."

"He's really?—"

"My contact wouldn't joke about something like that."

The ebb and flow of a migraine pulses in my head. I hold my breath, wishing I could pass out and miraculously start this long, never-ending day all over again.

The first thing I'd change? Staying in town. I'd grab plane tickets and whisk Grey and I off to a distant, tropical paradise with awful cell reception.

Finn drops into a bar stool, his face pale.

I slouch into the chair beside him. "How am I going to tell Grey that…"

Finn grunts, "Slavno is…"

We glance at each other.

"Dead."