The Dark Divine(9)

“But how do you know if someone is bad or if they just need help?”

“God is the ultimate judge of what is truly in our souls. But we are required to forgive everyone.”

My father left the conversation at that. To be honest, I was more confused than ever. What if the person who hurt you didn’t deserve to be forgiven? What if what they’d done was so terrible—?

Sc-rape. Sc-rape.

It was the shifting of gravel again. On both sides of the car now? I gripped the hockey stick. “Pete?” No response.

Rattle. Rattle.

The door handle?! Electricity shot up my spine and surged through my arms. My heart hammered in my chest, and my lungs ached with heavy breaths. I peered out the window. Why couldn’t I see anything? Rattle, rattle, rattle.

The car shook. I screamed. A high, piercing noise echoed outside the car. The windows moaned and shrieked like they were about to shatter. I smashed my hands over my ears and screamed louder. The noise died. Something clanked on the asphalt outside my door. My pulse pounded in my ears—it sounded like running footsteps.

Silence.

Every nerve seared under my skin. I shifted and heard the rattling again. It was just my shaking knee against the dangling keys in the ignition. I let out a short laugh and closed my eyes. I waited, listening to the silence, for as long as I could hold my breath. I let it out in a long sigh and eased my grip on the hockey stick.

Tap, tap, tap.

My eyes popped open. My arm flew up. I whacked my head with the hockey stick.

A shadowed face stared at me through the fogged window.

“Pop the hood,” a muffled voice said. It wasn’t Pete.

“Get lost!” I shouted, trying to make my voice sound huskier.

“Do it,” he said. “It’ll be okay, Gracie. I promise.” I put my hand to my mouth. I knew that voice. I knew that face. Before I could stop myself, I said, “Okay,” and pulled the hood release.

His footsteps scraped against the frozen pavement as he walked around to the front of the car. I opened the door and saw a crowbar lying at my feet. My spine tingled as I stepped over it and followed Daniel. His head and shoulders disappeared under the hood, but I could see he wore the same ratty jeans and T-shirt from yesterday. Did he even own another set of clothes?

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Daniel twisted off the cap to something in the engine and pulled up an oily metal stick. “You dating that Bradshaw guy?” He screwed the cap back on.

He was being so matter-of-fact I wondered if I’d dreamed all that commotion. Could I have fallen asleep while waiting for Pete? But that crowbar wasn’t there before. “What just happened?” I asked. “Were you watching me?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You aren’t answering mine.” I took a step toward him. “Did you see what happened?” Did you stop what almost happened?

“Maybe.”

I ducked under the hood so I could see him better.

“Tell me.”

Daniel wiped his greasy hands on his pants. “Just some kids playing around.”

“With a crowbar?”

“Yeah, they’re all the rage these days.”

“And you expect me to just believe that?”

Daniel shrugged. “You can believe whatever want, but that’s all I saw.” Daniel fiddled with something else in the engine. “Your turn,” he said. “You going out with Bradshaw?”

“Maybe.”

“You picked a real prince,” he said sarcastically. “Pete’s a nice guy.”

Daniel snorted. “I’d watch out for that prick if I were you.”

“Shut up!” I grabbed one of his bare arms. His skin was like ice. “How dare you say things like that about my friends. How dare you come back here and try to weasel your way into my life! Stop following me around.” I yanked him away from my father’s car. “Get lost and leave me alone.”

Daniel chuckled. “Same old Gracie,” he said. “You’re just as bossy as ever. Always ordering people around. ‘Tell me.’ ‘Get lost.’ ‘Give it back.’ ‘Shut up.’ Does your daddy know you talk like that?” He wrenched his arm out of my grasp and turned back to the engine. “Just let me get you moving, and then you’ll never have to see my filthy face again.”


I stood back and watched his movements. Daniel had that way about him that could shut me down in an instant. I rubbed my hands together and jumped up and down to generate some heat. Most Minnesotans have thick blood, but how could Daniel even stand to be outside in only short sleeves? I kicked the gravel a couple of times and worked up my courage again. “Tell me … I mean … why did you come back? Why now, after all this time?”

Daniel looked up at me. His dark eyes searched my face. There was something different about those too-familiar eyes. Maybe it was the way the orange light from the streetlamp illuminated his pupils. Maybe it was the way he stared without blinking. His eyes made him look … hungry.

He dropped his gaze. “You wouldn’t understand.”

I folded my arms. “Wouldn’t I?”

Daniel turned to the engine, hesitated, and then looked back at me. “You ever been to the MoMA?” he asked.