“So there are two different societies,” she mused. “I’ve only seen the black cloaks.”
“They weren’t doing anything interesting, just walking, but even that was weird.”
“What? The way they were walking?” She inched closer, setting her elbows on her legs.
“No. The fact that no one said anything about it at all.” I sipped. “Well, one guy did, but everyone told him he was ridiculous.” I set my mug down. “I also heard something else that was interesting.”
“What?”
“Someone told me that there’s a rumor that these girls disappear because one of the societies sacrifices them.”
“Hm. I’m not sure I believe that. Why do so many of them come back? It seems like most of them do, actually. And they all live normal lives.” She sipped her latte as she looked at me. Hailey did that a lot, she just looked at people. Or maybe it was me she was busy staring at. I tried not to focus on it, but I found myself constantly looking away to avoid awkwardness. She set the mug down. “Do you think you’d live a normal life if you were kidnapped?”
“If I was kidnapped?” I said rather loudly.
“It’s a hypothetical question, Mae. You don’t have to freak out about it.” She let out a laugh.
“It’s not hypothetical when people are actually being kidnapped,” I whisper-shouted. “And I’m not sure. Would you live a normal life if you were kidnapped and let go a year later after they did who knows what to you?”
“I think so.” She shrugged.
I felt myself make a face, but didn’t comment. What was I supposed to say to that?
“How’s your brother?” she asked after a beat. “My mom told me she went to a mass for him. I hope he’s okay.”
“He’ll be fine. He’s just . . . well, he’s in a medically induced coma now. He was having a lot of seizures.”
“Oof. Because of drugs?”
“No.” I frowned. “My brother doesn’t do drugs.”
“What were the seizures caused by?”
Drugs. Shit. An insane amount of drugs had been found in his system when he died. My chest squeezed when I thought about that. Lincoln had actually died and been brought back. And it had been drugs. But he’d said he hadn’t meant to overdose. He hadn’t meant to kill himself. Well, he shook his head no. Still. Drugs.
“I’m not sure.” I set my mug down and looked at my phone. “I have to go. I’m going to dinner with someone and I don’t want to be late.”
“Oh, a date?” She stood up as I did.
“Not a date, no. I’m going to dinner with a friend.”
“A friend?” She wagged her eyebrows. “A hockey player friend?”
“What? No.” I frowned. Did she know about Logan? Not that there was anything to know about Logan, but still. “Why would it be a hockey player?”
“I’m just asking.” She shrugged. “Anyway, let’s do this again soon.”
“Sure.”
“And stay away from the cloaks!”
Chapter 12
I was standing outside, waiting for Max, and freezing my ass off. I had the idea of leaving my jacket open, but there was no use. I should’ve grabbed a scarf before walking out of my room. I looked up to see Max walking over to me, wearing a suit.
“You look amazing.” He whistled.
“Thanks.” I made a show of checking him out. “You don’t look half bad yourself.” He chuckled, cheeks reddening. I could tell Max wasn’t used to attention, and as much as I didn’t mind paying him a compliment, I didn’t want him to take it the wrong way, so I was quick to add, “Just so we’re clear, this isn’t a date.”
“Trust me, I never thought it was.” He smiled.
“So, where are we going?”
“This way.” He nodded as he started walking. I followed, grateful I’d opted for wedges and not stilettos. “I was able to score a reservation at a new restaurant that opened a couple of weeks ago.”
“I hope you didn’t go through the trouble on my account. I would’ve been fine at any pub.”
“Trust me, this is me selfishly using this outing as a reason to go. They only take reservations for two people at a time and I can’t really pick one friend over another.”
“Ah, so you’re using me. Got it.” I winked.
“Not using, just . . . ” He blushed again. “I mean, the place looks amazing and—”
“Max.” I shot him a look. He clamped his mouth shut. “I’m cool with it. Thanks for picking me up, by the way. Do you live nearby?”
“A few blocks. I can’t afford your block. I think Nolan lives in your building. Or maybe it’s the building next to yours.”
“Hm. I haven’t seen him around.”
“Some of the junior and senior players live on your block.”
“Yeah, I heard about that.” I looked over my shoulder as if they were all going to magically appear behind us. We were at a streetlight, waiting for the crosswalk signal to change, when I spotted a busy restaurant across the street.
“Is that the place?”
“Yeah. It looks nice, right?”
“It looks crowded,” I said. “But yeah, nice. I don’t think I noticed it when I walked by it before.”
“Rumor has it, Fitz’s brother owns it.”
“Patrick? That’s his only brother, right?”
“Yup.”
“Why’s it a rumor? About his brother owning the place? Either he owns it, or he doesn’t.”
“I guess he was worried about how opening this place would go over after the legal issues he had.”
“So, who do people think owns it?”
“Private investors.”
“Hm. Do you think he did what they said he did? Patrick Fitzgerald, I mean.”
“I mean, I don’t discredit anything like that. When you have the entire world in the palm of your hands, it’s difficult to say what you wouldn’t be able to get away with.”
“That’s disturbing but true.” I nodded at that. “Still, I’m surprised he’d keep his name out of this restaurant entirely.”
“I can’t imagine he’d care whether his name was on it or not.” He raised an eyebrow as he pulled the door open for me. I thanked him as I walked through. It was just as crowded in here as it was outside. “I’d venture to say it’s going pretty damn well for him.”
I took my coat off and checked it in the coatroom while Max walked up to the hostess and gave her his name. I busied myself looking around as I walked back to the front. On a table in the waiting area was a bowl of black matches with the restaurant name on it, and on the back, a tiny gold octopus with the numbers 8888. I picked one up and dropped it back down, letting it bounce off the other boxes.
“You’re too beautiful to be kept waiting.” The voice, low and near my ear, stinking of whiskey, startled me.
I jumped and turned around to face him, his scent flooding my senses, his close proximity causing me to inhale sharply. I braced myself, but it was no use. No point in denying that he affected me, whether I wanted him to or not. The icy look in his eyes made me take a step back, then another, until my back was pressed up against the wall and I was reminded of the saying between a rock and a hard place.