Page 54 of Crawl
“It’s so weird,” she says, her voice quiet. “It smells good. It was always so stale, like everything was rotting.”
I haven’t noticed anything like that at all. The fresh air must have cleared it up.
“Wait here,” I say, directing her to the kitchen. “If you need anything, you know where it is. I’ll be right back.”
I creep up the stairs as quietly as I can, then sneak down the hallway. Cash is sitting behind his desk, his nose deep in a report on his computer. His phone flashes beside him in silence. He always ignores phone calls. Maybe it’s a part of his reclusive nature, though I’m not quite sure.
“She’s here,” I say. He keeps his eyes on his work, like he’s not concerned with the meeting at all. Cash is like that; he rarely cares about things. But this is different. He knows Jenna hates him. She’s the reason I pursued him in the first place. Why doesn’t he care?
Downstairs, Jenna holds a cup of water, peering out the windows. My heart vibrates, my body tense. I don’t want her to be in pain any more than she already is, but she needs this.
Still, I have to make sure she’s ready.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask.
She forces a smile. “Let’s go.”
I stand in front of her, leading the way up the stairs, as if I can protect her. Outside of his office, I raise my hand, blocking her from entering. Then I check first: Cash is in the large leather recliner at the far end of the room, with his back to us.
I step to the side, letting Jenna in. She enters, lifting her chin. I stand behind her.
“Mr. Winstone,” she says.
Cash doesn’t move. It’s almost like he’s a statue decorating the chair.
“Do you remember me?” she asks.
She touches her lips, staring at the back of Cash’s head.
“You made it so that I couldn’t defend myself,” she says, tears shaking through her voice. “I worked hard for you. And you hit me? Like you could beat my mistakes into me?”
Jenna clutches her hands to her chest. Nerves swim inside of me, and I gnaw on my bottom lip until a bitter taste fills my mouth. This is what Jenna needs, but I also know that this is why Cash hates being around people. These kinds of interactions don’t make him sympathetic; they irritate him. But he stays silent.
Is he ignoring her?
Why does this seem worse than if he retaliates?
“Can’t you at least pretend you’re sorry?” Jenna asks, frustration growing inside of her.
I hold my breath as my heart pounds. A tear rolls down her cheek.
“Stop being a coward,” she shouts. “Look at me, damn it.”
At those words, Cash finally stirs. He stands up, then slowly turns to face her. Their eyes meet and Jenna’s jaw drops, her lips shuddering to make words, but nothing comes out. Cash’s eyes are vacant, like he can see past her, and it gives me chills. Jenna presses her fingers to her lips, her eyes wide.
Then she quietly leaves the room. I follow her. She flattens herself against the outside wall, but she keeps her eyes on the open office door.
“What happened to him?” she asks, her words trembling out.
I search her, trying to understand what she means. “What do you mean?”
“He looks different now.”
“Different? How?”
“I rarely got to see him,” she says. Her eyes keep shifting over to the open door like she’s afraid he’ll hear us. “He always had his back to me. Made me keep my eyes on the floor. But even if he dyed his hair, it doesn’t explain his face.”
“He got plastic surgery,” I say. That’s what he told Dean. Getting work done isn’t that uncommon, especially being this close to Miami. But the more I think about it, the less it makes sense. Why would Cash get plastic surgery, unless he’s hiding something? And what is he hiding?
