Relentless by Robin Parrish Read Free Book Online Page B

eye. ‘‘I’ll take care of you. I promise.’’
    ‘‘It’s not me I’m worried about. And I’m not talking about what this Konrad person is capable of, either. You said you nearly killed him yesterday afternoon.’’
    Grant made no response.
    Julie proceeded with caution. ‘‘I know you’ve had . . . episodes . . . in the past, but you were doing better, weren’t you?’’
    ‘‘I was,’’ he said, exasperated. ‘‘It was just . . . it felt natural . I reacted without thinking. I just knew how to stop him. I knew exactly where and how to hit him to knock him unconscious. I don’t know how . . . I just knew.’’
    ‘‘And aside from this instinct stuff, you’ve had an hour of sleep in what, thirty-six hours now?’’
    ‘‘What do you want me to say !’’ shouted Grant. ‘‘Am I tired? Yes! Am I on edge? Yes! Am I a danger to myself? Maybe. To others? Probably! But this guy’s not going to stop to let me get some shut-eye, so unless you have a better idea . . .’’
    She looked away, out her side window. They inched forward in silence for a few minutes. The morning had already gotten hot and without the Jeep’s top, the sun beat down. Grant soon felt badly about his outburst, but anger and frustration were the only sources of energy he had left. He’d apologize later. For now . . .
    ‘‘Will you kill him?’’ Julie spoke up in a small voice.
    ‘‘What?’’
    She wouldn’t look at him; still she stared out her window, squinting into the brightness, though he thought he saw a tear falling down her cheek in her reflection. ‘‘Will you kill him?’’ she repeated. ‘‘Can you really do that?’’
    He didn’t answer.

7
    Grant insisted they wait until nightfall before making another move. They hid the Jeep and spent the day taking cover in tiny Mestizo restaurants, dark bars, and even a library. Anything to stay out of sight. When night fell, they returned to the Jeep and headed to their destination, pulling up to an old brick apartment building in Glendale, where Grant— Collin —had lived for the last seven years. It looked exactly as it always had, though it seemed a little smaller to him now.
    Grant stared straight ahead at the apartment, unmoving. The sun was a distant memory now, not to be seen again for hours, and the darkness outside echoed the fear creeping in around them.
    ‘‘Scared?’’ Julie prompted.
    He nodded, fatigue and anxiety contorting his eyes.
    ‘‘Me too,’’ Julie admitted. She placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
    ‘‘I, uh, . . . I need to know something,’’ he delicately announced.
    ‘‘Okay,’’ she replied tentatively.
    ‘‘Did you ever blame me for what happened to Mom?’’
    Julie shifted in her seat. ‘‘How can you even ask that? Of course not!’’
    A pause. ‘‘Then why didn’t you ever talk about her? To this day, I hardly know anything about Mom at all.’’
    Julie looked away, paused. ‘‘I guess it was too hard.’’
    ‘‘And Dad?’’
    She was silent.
    ‘‘Did he blame me?’’
    ‘‘ Never ,’’ she answered, without hesitation.
    The car became as still as the sleepy neighborhood outside. The question had eaten away at Grant in his waking hours for years. All alone in his most vulnerable moments, he would allow himself to think about it for brief snippets of time, before throwing the usual walls back up in front of his emotions.
    Sometimes he even cried.
    ‘‘Thanks,’’ he replied weakly.
    ‘‘Dad once told me,’’ Julie said suddenly, thoughtfully, ‘‘that you were going to be . . . different . He said he thought you might grow up and do important things, things different from what most people do.’’
    Grant was taken aback. ‘‘Why would he say that?’’
    She thought for a moment, straining her memory. ‘‘I forget why, but he had your mental acuity tested—this was only a few months before he died.’’ Her voice sounded far away, as she thought. ‘‘I remember him