The Outliers (The Outliers, #1)(25)

“Cold enough for you?” he calls as I step inside.

Careful. That’s my first thought. I need not to seem suspicious. I’m still trying to believe that my dad was just threatening to have Dr. Shepard call out the dogs, but I can’t know that for sure. I don’t feel like I know anything for sure anymore where my dad is concerned.

“Yep,” I say, smiling harder and more guiltily before ducking fast down the nearest aisle, which of course is not suspicious at all.

Halfway down the aisle I stop and turn to face all the perfectly laid-out snacks—Pringles, Honey Braided Pretzels, beef jerky. Twizzlers. They make me think of Gideon, which, surprisingly, makes my gut twist. But I do feel bad imagining him home with my dad obsessing about me, again. And what if my dad is even right? What if I am too crazy to be out here trying to help Cassie? I squeeze my fists closed, then open, like maybe I can pump my doubt out through my fingertips. Because what I need is not to let what he said get to me. What I need to do instead is to get busy proving him wrong.

I hear the door to the Freshmart open again, brace for the woman and her baby to head down my way.

“Cold enough for you?” the man behind the counter calls again in the exact same cheerful way. It’s creepy, the second time. Like he is something less than human.

“Yeah, definitely,” Jasper answers. I step back so I can see him near the door, blowing on his hands. He has on my dad’s black coat. The dark color makes his green eyes glow. “This can’t be normal for May?”

“Too hot, too cold, too wet, too windy. Always seems too much of something around here.”

“You have a bathroom?”

“Sure thing. All the way down in the back.”

Jasper pushes his hands in his pockets as he heads for me. And I wonder if I’ve let my guard down too quickly, been too easily won over. He is more likable, more genuine, and even smarter than I expected. But none of that means he is more trustworthy. None of the bad things I know about him have gone away—his temper, Tasha, that punch, and most of all the part he played in the mess that is Cassie now.

“Maybe we should buy a map in case we lose our phone signal,” he says when he reaches me. He grabs three off a nearby rack—Maine, New Hampshire and Vermont—then motions to the snacks I’m still staring at. “You getting something?”

“Um, yeah.” I grab a bag of pretzels, though the thought of food makes me want to gag. “Just this.”

“I’ll meet you up there,” Jasper says. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

“Big trip?” the man asks when I put the maps and the pretzels I don’t actually want down on the counter.

My body tenses even though I know he’s just making friendly conversation. I just wish he’d make less of it.

I shrug. “Visiting my aunt. She lives up here.” His face brightens instantly. What a stupid lie.

“Oh yeah? What’s her name?” Of course he was going to ask. “Aren’t enough of us around here for anyone to be a stranger.”

“Oh, well, she lives farther north, way farther,” I say, praying he doesn’t ask where exactly. I’m not even sure exactly which state is north.

Luckily, before I have to tell him anything else, Jasper appears right next to me.

“We’ve got to go.” His mouth is up close to my ear. His voice is a wound, wild whisper. “Now.”

He has his phone in one hand, an unused coffee cup crushed in the other. His eyes are wide and unblinking. He grabs the maps and my pretzels, even takes my change out of the old man’s hand.

“Come on, Wylie, now!” Jasper shouts as he steps toward the door and I remain motionless at the counter.

He comes back, grabs my arm, and yanks me toward the door. I wait until we’re outside, away from the old man’s prying eyes, to jerk away.

“Jasper, let go!” My heart is racing, my arm throbbing. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he tosses his phone back at me and keeps on toward his car, past the pretty baby-lady, who’s watching him. Watching us. She’s without her baby now, fussing with something tied to the roof of their car. I look away from her worried face and down at the message on Jasper’s phone as he climbs back into the Jeep. The headlights flick on as I read.

I’m at Camp Colestah near a town called Seneca. It’s in Maine. Hurry. I think they’re going to hurt me.

Whatever is going on, it’s not Cassie playing some game. Even she wouldn’t go this far.

“Wylie, come on!” Jasper shouts out his window. He’s worried and he’s losing it. “Let’s go!”

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” the baby-lady asks me. Her voice is so soft and sweet, like a lullaby.

“Yeah, yes,” I say, looking away from her as the tears rush again into my eyes. I can’t help it. It’s that mom thing about her that just makes me want to cry my face off. “I’m fine.”

“Honestly, you don’t seem fine,” she says, and when I turn, her bright-blue eyes are serious. “Do you need help?”

She’s choosing her words carefully. Like maybe it’s been her job before to help women not get back in the car with the men they shouldn’t. And she might not even be wrong.

“Sweetheart?” the woman goes on, sounding more concerned. “Does your mother know where you are? I think maybe you should call her.”