Chasing Impossible (Pushing the Limits #5)(78)

“Boss man has spoken,” I say.

I offer my hand to Abby, she accepts and the two of us exit the room to applause from our friends for finally emerging.

Abby

“I think it was Tommy who shot me.” I cram the pancakes soaked in real maple syrup into my mouth and groan with how freaking good they taste. “Linus is his mentor so I’m sure Linus won’t act until he has proof and if I take Logan into town to prove that Tommy was the one that shot me, I’m putting a target on Logan’s back. But since I’ve already made the accusation, I’m pretty sure Tommy will slit my throat because what if Eric was playing me and I just made Tommy look bad? Either way, bad blood is now between us. Maybe, but maybe not. I sort of like breathing so I’d prefer to not bleed out. Do you think I can still get an additional side of bacon?”

We’re at this tiny diner about twenty minutes from the cabin. It’s like we stepped out of the 2000s and entered nineteen twentysomething and I like it because it reminds me of Grams’s house. There’s a long counter with old weathered men sitting on the old weathered stools.

Isaiah returned my cell under promise of death to not contact Linus and I had to admit that plan seemed like a winner. I check in with Nadia and Nate several times a day and I’ve even spoken with Grams on Skype at three every day, but I’m not sure she knew I was there. Both Nadia and Nate confirmed that her mental frame of mind was definitely shaky this week.

Not sure how I feel that I’m not missed. Good? Bad? A bit like throwing up?

I shove the thought away as I drizzle more syrup on my pancakes and then the nausea returns as I notice Logan’s plate: eggs, bacon, strawberries, water to drink. Not a carb in sight. My eyes widen and the fork I had lifted to my mouth starts to lower. I am the worst person ever.

Logan scoops up his eggs, shoves a huge helping into his mouth, and mumbles to me, “Doesn’t bother me. Eat or I’ll force-feed you.”

Right, Logan will be irritated if we act differently. I can live with that and I can definitely live with eating pancakes. Before I insert some delicious fantasticness into my mouth, I glance up at the round table, and except for Logan because we’ve already covered some of this tale of woe in late-night conversations, they are all staring at me: Isaiah, Noah, West, Chris, and Ryan.

Yup, eyes glued on me.

Staring at me like I have leeches stuck to my face or I’m about to eat leeches or I’m having a love affair with a leech. “What?”

West breaks eye contact first, readjusts that baseball cap forever on backwards and then shoves his plate of bacon in my direction. “If Linus is this guy’s mentor, do you think Linus knew?”

They all begin eating again.

No one asks if Ricky knew because these guys are smart. I don’t trust Ricky at all, but Linus... “No. Linus wouldn’t betray me. Not like that.” Would Linus undercut me to make a gain? Yes. Shoot me? No. “He respected my father too much for that.”

I pick up the bacon and I’m deliberate and slow as I nibble on it. “I need you guys to understand something. Even if Ricky knew about me being shot, he’s still moving me up. He still has interest in me. Let’s call a spade a spade. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. Whatever is going on, Ricky is investing in me and Ricky doesn’t let his investments go.”

“What are you getting at?” Isaiah asks.

Honestly? “I don’t know. Linus said it to me the other night and it just struck me as true.”

“Doesn’t mean it is,” Logan says.

Doesn’t mean it isn’t. “I think maybe Linus was hinting that I’m already in too deep to leave. That I’ll never be safe out and that my safer option is in—where he and Ricky can protect me.”

Logan tenses beside me and I can sense his quiet, brooding anger. “If we figure out a way to take care of your grandmother, will you quit?”

“But Linus is protecting—”

“Me,” he cuts me off. “You’ve mentioned that a few times. I’ll take care of me and you need to trust me on that.”

“How?” I push.

“You show me Tommy and if he’s the guy I saw, I go to the police.”

My lips shift because I don’t like that idea at all. Logan and Isaiah have this faith in the police, but people on the right side of the law make me squirm.

“I’m asking about the money,” Logan continues. “If you didn’t have to worry about the money and Ricky let you leave, will you quit?”

I own the table’s undivided attention again and I can’t help that it strikes me as funny that I’m the lone girl in this mess of muscle and testosterone. The urge is to say something crazy to make them all get that perplexed hysterical expression, but I then think of how serious they all seem and suddenly it’s tough to swallow the food in my mouth.

They care about me and that causes my system to glitch. I’m unworthy of all this emotion. I gently place my fork on the table, use the napkin to wipe my mouth then tell them the truth, “Yes, I would quit.”

Harvard gave me their card. Doesn’t mean they want me, but it could mean somebody else would. It means I might have a say in my destiny.

“But the amount of money I need to take care of my grandmother isn’t pocket change and can’t be made working at McDonald’s. I need cash and a lot of it.”