Epoch (Transcend Duet #2)(2)



“I have to go.”

“Then I’m going with you.”

I laugh. “You’re coming with me to watch Morgan today?”

He nods. “You’re not driving. And if Professor Hunt knew what happened to you yesterday, he wouldn’t want you watching his daughter today.”

“I would never sacrifice Morgan’s safety.” I ball my hands in defense.

“It’s me and you today, Swayz. Deal with it.”

On a sigh, I grab my socks and shoes.

“Where are you going?” Mom asks when we make our way to the living room.

“Work.”

Sherri and Scott shoot Griffin concerned looks.

“I’m going with her.”

They give Griffin deliberate nods, redirecting their worried looks toward me.

“I’m fine. Really. But thank you for your concern.”

“Call me when you get home later.” Mom hugs me. “We have a lot to discuss.”

Who knows what Griffin told them. I’ll deal with it later.

*

“Does Erica have family around here?” Griffin asks on our way to Nate’s office.

I stare out the window, seeing everything and nothing in particular at the same time. “Yes.”

“I’ll look for something on her visitation and funeral.”

I nod. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t say anything else, and I don’t spur on the conversation. At some point we’ll discuss Daisy. How can we not? But not now. I need to let these images speak to me before I can try to make anyone else understand.

I lead the way to Nate’s office, dodging students milling around the hallways. It was dead in the building the last time I was here.

“You’re getting a lot of attention,” I say as we take the stairs to the second floor. “These girls are wondering what your major is so they can change theirs to have all the same classes.”

Griffin shakes his head, but he can’t hide his grin. A pang of jealousy slithers into my conscience. Does he like these girls looking at him? Or am I looking for anything to distract my mind from Erica, even if it’s conjuring up ridiculous reasons to blame Griffin for being—Griffin.

“This way, rock star.” I nod my head toward the door to Nate’s office.

“I only want to be your rock star.” He slides two fingers into my back pocket, giving me a playful tug as I open the door.

“I don’t want a rock star. I like my grocery store guy.” And Erica alive again. If I’m making a list of things I want, she’s at the top.

“Hi,” Donna, the blowout lady, greets us. “She’s zonked.”

I glance at a sleeping Morgan in her car seat. “Thank you for helping Nate—er … Professor Hunt out. I feel really bad for running late today.”

She stands from his desk chair, closing her laptop and hugging it to her chest. “No problem. Here are the keys to Nathaniel’s car. He said you’d swap vehicles so you would have a base for Morgan’s car seat. He’s parked on the east side. Lot C. First row on the right.” Her gaze falls over my shoulder.

“Oh … Donna, this is Griffin. Griffin, Donna.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“Keys?” I say to Griffin.

He fishes out the keys to my car. I toss them on the desk and take Nate’s keys.

“Well…” I shrug “…I’ll take it from here.”

Donna snaps out of her dreamy state. It’s the same way she gawks at Nate. “Good. Okay. Nice to see you and uh…” she serves Griffin a flirty smile “…meet you.”

After the door shuts, I turn toward Griffin. “A good ego day for you. Now you know where to come if it ever needs a boost.”

He smirks. “College. Work. Gym. Grocery store. It doesn’t really matter.”

I smile. It’s hard. With each step, the reality of what I saw yesterday sinks in a little deeper, permanently staining my memories and my conscience. The adrenaline that spurred me to get dressed and rush here has started to wear off.

Doug Mann is a killer.

My friend was murdered.

Daisy was murdered.

Nate didn’t tell me that. He’s never told me how she died.

“Where are you, Swayz?” Griffin pulls me into his arms.

“Erica’s dead,” I mumble.

He kisses my forehead. “I know. I’m so sorry.”

“He killed her.”

“If he did, I’m sure the police will figure it out. You definitely put him on their radar yesterday.”

“Maybe. Let’s go.” I pull away. “Before Morgan wakes up.”

Griffin lifts the infant carrier. My gaze flicks to his.

“If you don’t trust me to carry her, then we have issues to discuss.”

“I trust you with my life.” I smile, stopping short of telling him that means I trust him with Morgan, because whether it’s right or not, she’s part of my life.

Slinging her diaper bag over my shoulder, I open the door to the dull chattering of students and instructors flowing in both directions. Griffin, with baby in tow, garners as many hungry female eyes—if not more—than Griffin without Morgan.

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