Chapter 14: Unlikely Partners In Crime

989 202 297
                                    

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out. Even in my fit of surprise, I took the time to look at his crisp white button-down shirt and the way his messy dark hair and cheekbones always drew me into his eyes, a pop of bright blue color. His outfit looked like something his dad had made him wear for him to be fancy, and the thought of it almost made me smile.

Almost.

Griffin scowled at me. "What am I doing here? Natasha was my ex-girlfriend. What are you doing here?"

"Well... she was my ex-best friend," I retorted back.

"Yeah, like forever ago," he said, scoffing.

"A week ago, you were practically begging me to help you find her, so I guess forever wasn't that long ago." I crossed my arms across my chest triumphantly and then dropped them, wondering why I was even fighting with him.

He glared at me, probably selecting his next insult, when Mrs. Ryan came toward us.

I took a step back, grateful she hadn't heard us.

"For you," Griffin said, handing her the bouquet. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mrs. Ryan. I know what it's like losing someone close to you." From Griffin, it didn't sound forced or formal, as if he struggled with the thought of how to address the loss of a loved one or as if he didn't mean it. It just sounded like a boy who meant everything from his heart.

Because that's just how he was.

"Thank you, Griffin," she said. As usual, her tone remained commanding, and she showed no sign of falling apart. Still, the way she briefly nodded was the closest I had ever seen her to showing emotion. We followed her to the dining table and sat down, serving ourselves the maple-glazed salmon and asparagus she had made. At first, it was quiet, and then Mrs. Ryan spoke.

"Whatever happened to Natasha," she said, her blood-red nails wrapping around the stem of her glass, "It wasn't an accident. I know what people are saying."

I froze, suddenly aware of every movement of my body, worried that one wrong move would make Mrs. Ryan stop talking.

"I knew one day her anger would cause her to suffer." I wanted to ask her what she meant by that, but I didn't know how; if I even attempted to open my mouth, I felt my voice would betray me. She shook her head, her cold eyes staring straight into my own, and chills ran down my spine. "She would sit right where you're sitting, Haven." I uncomfortably placed a hand on my knee, wondering if I reminded her of Natasha.

I held my breath, anticipating what she would say next but not expecting her actual words.

"She was fond of you both. You were the two people who truly got her. Thank you for trying to save her from herself."

I didn't deserve that. I wasn't there for her, and I didn't even know if I missed her; if I could separate the betrayal from the friendship. I was sitting in her mother's home, playing the role of a best friend, when I felt guilty for her death.

I had let Natasha become a stranger and proved everything she thought about me.

Maybe the real reason Natasha and I had become friends wasn't that I was vulnerable.

It was because we were both cowards.

I felt my eyes stinging, and I looked up to see Griffin watching my face. He knew exactly what was on my mind, unraveling the crevices as if he saw the darkness. His gaze calmed me down, and without using words, he could talk me through it.

Despite my inner turmoil, I had come here for a reason, and I couldn't let emotions get in the way.

"Mrs. Ryan?" I cleared my throat. "Can I take something from Natasha's room to remember her by?"

Cupid's Guide to MurderWhere stories live. Discover now