Pivot Point (Pivot Point #1)(49)

“Can’t we just wait until tomorrow?” We’re standing in the dark hall of Laila’s house. Our first step is to get Poison’s number from her dad’s cell phone. His snores echo down the hall.

“No, he’s a more predictable sleeper at night,” Laila says. “Just wait here.” She tiptoes into her parents’ room.

Duke, who’s standing behind me, slips his arms around my waist. “Are you nervous?”

I relax back into him, and his breath tickles the hair on my neck. I can feel his heartbeat against my back. “Not anymore.”

“Good. We’ll fix this. He probably just gets a kick out of scaring people. Especially pretty young girls.”

“I guess.”

Laila comes back out and motions for us to follow her to the living room. The cell phone is in her hand, and she scrolls through his phone book.

“Addie, put his number in your phone.”

“Okay.” I wait, phone ready.

She tells me the number, and I enter it into my contacts attached to the name Freakshow.

“More like Dead Freakshow, if I ever see him again,” Duke says, looking over my shoulder.

I elbow him.

“Okay, I’m going to put this back.” She leaves, and I stare at the numbers on my phone. This all seems so pointless.

“What’s wrong?” Duke asks.

“We have a number, but now what? It’s not like we can call him up and ask him to tell us all about himself.”

“No. But my best friend happens to know how to hack into computer systems. It’s one of the perks of his ability.”

“Really? Who?”

“Bobby.”

I groan. “Bobby? Are you serious? I don’t think we should share this with him. I don’t trust him.” I still haven’t told Duke about what Bobby did to me in my Search. I wonder if I should, if he’ll think I’m overreacting. It’s hard for people to understand how real my “memories” are. Laila’s the only person who knows what Bobby did … would’ve done … to me. The night I told her, she held my hand and asked me if I wanted her to wipe his memories and turn him into a drooling vegetable. I said no, but just the thought made me feel better.

Duke pushes a button on his cell phone, then spins it once before pocketing it. “Well, I trust him. And right now, we could use his help.”

“Right now?” I look at my phone. It’s past eleven.

“Yep, I just texted him. Bobby stays up late.”

Laila walks back out, and Duke says, “We’re going to Bobby’s to see if he can dig up any information on this guy.”

Laila’s eyes dart to mine. “We are?” She searches my face, probably looking for any signs of resistance.

I want to give them, but I just shrug and say, “Yes, I can’t think of a better idea, or believe me I would.”

“Okay then, let’s go.”

We pull up in front of Bobby’s house, and my blood runs cold. I’ve never been inside except in my Search. As I stare at the large oak tree in his front yard the memory of Bobby’s eyes boring into mine while we sat in his car comes into my mind. I remember wondering how we had ended up in front of his house in the first place when he was supposed to drive me home.

“My mom wanted to meet you,” he had said.

“Oh, okay.” But no one had been in his house. It was dark, and I felt uncomfortable. “Where is your mom?”

A smile crept onto his face, and he sat down on the couch and patted the cushion next to him.

My instincts told me to leave, but his green eyes softened.

“Come sit next to me.”

I didn’t want to be rude, and the dance had been fun. I sat down, and his arm snaked around my neck, his hand instantly finding my collarbone, tracing a slow line along it and then lower.

“I don’t think so,” I said, grabbing his hand and using it to remove his arm from my neck, then hanging on to it for good measure.

“What’s wrong? You don’t like me?” His free hand went to my thigh, where his fingers dug into my skin.

“Ouch, Bobby. Knock it off.” I tried to stand, but he held on to my leg and pinned my shoulder with his.

For a moment I was frozen in shock, unable to believe what was really happening. His mouth found mine, rough and uncaring as his hand continued to travel upward. The sound of the skirt of my dress ripping and the feel of his hand brought me out of my shock, and I kneed Bobby hard. Holding together my ripped dress, I ran out of his house, my eyes stinging.

Now, in the car with Duke and Laila, those feelings are back. I try to push them aside as I step out of the car, not wanting Duke to think I can’t handle this. I can handle this. Bobby doesn’t control me. Laila must sense how I feel, because she’s at my side immediately, grabbing hold of my hand.

Bobby opens the front door before we even knock. I don’t like the way his eyes travel over me as if he, too, remembers the Search and enjoys tormenting me with it. But I know he doesn’t remember; only I get that privilege.

Bobby leads us into a back room, which I’m glad isn’t as familiar as the family room we passed. “I got started with the number you gave me. His name is Steve Paxton.” In the corner of the room, computers light up the wall.

“Your house is like a tomb,” Laila says. “Don’t you have sensors?” She waves her hands over her head, but nothing happens. “Bobby,” she says in exasperation, and he points at the wall. She finds a switch and flips it on. When the overhead light flickers to life, the breath I didn’t realize I was holding slowly seeps through my lips.