Free Fractured by Lisa Amowitz Page B

guy.
    â€œWell put, Gabe,” I said. “I warned him you’d tear him limb from limb if he tried to protect you.” I turned to Bobby. “I don’t know about you, but I’m more scared of Gabriella Sorensen when she’s pissed than some blind, impeccably coiffed FBI agent.”
    Bobby Pendell looked like he might have turned three shades of green. But it was kind of tough to tell in the dim light.
    Gabe’s expression softened. “When are you going to learn, Bobby, that I am not made of eggshell china? Stop trying to be a hero. We are all in this together.” She flashed me a mildly hostile look. “At least some of us are.”
    â€œSometimes, I mean, most of the time—I want to kick him in the face, but don’t shit on Glass,” Bobby blurted. “He’s…he’s my f-f— He’s my friend.”
    â€œCue the heartwarming music,” I said.
    â€œLeave it to you to spoil any moment,” Marisa said coldly, releasing my hand.
    I shivered. Something told me that while my fledgling friendship with Bobby Pendell was warming, there was an ill wind blowing through my relationship with Marisa Perez.
    My stump began to throb inside of Veronica.
    And the thing I wanted badly at that moment, more than I wanted anything—was a drink.

23
    Bobby
    Saturday: 11:42 PM
    I caught the tail end of the look Marisa flashed at Jeremy and the way his face kind of fell. I could see the tiny hairline cracks starting to form in that joker’s mask he wore. And I realized that Jeremy Glass wasn’t all that different than me. He just danced along the edges of a different kind of brink.
    â€œI don’t get it,” Marisa said. “You’re saying the same person attacked Brittany and me? Yet hers was a woman?”
    â€œI don’t know,” I said. “I’m just pretty sure it is, because…”
    â€œYou saw both attacks for yourself,” Marisa finished for me.
    I nodded and said softly, “Yeah.” Marisa’s eyes were dark, shiny, and bird-bright. I got the sense that she was wearing her own kind of mask. And it didn’t fit that well either.
    â€œWhy don’t we see if there’s anything else downstairs,” Gabe said, her voice frosty. “Since you’re all nice and safe in your freakout-proof suit.”
    I let the girls walk on ahead of us out of the sanctuary into the brightly lit stairwell and waited for Jeremy. From the way they leaned in to speak and laughed at their own secret jokes, it was obvious they had gotten close pretty quickly. Which was nice, because at least Gabe would already have a friend when she came here next fall.
    But Jeremy wasn’t keeping up. He shuffled along, a few feet behind, and instead of his usual smirk, he wore a barely disguised grimace. “Veronica again?” I asked.
    He shook his head. “No. I can always count on her, at least.”
    â€œWhat’s up, Glass?”
    â€œAnd you care why? Thought you were just tolerating me.”
    I sighed. “You really did put a first-rate effort into that. But it’s kind of hard to hate you,” I said. “Even if you are a total a-hole.”
    He shrugged and smiled, but his eyes were misty. “Nice to know my work is appreciated,” he said.
    â€œDo you think they heard the end?” I asked abruptly. “Agent Reston wasn’t anywhere near the couch when she told us about the ticking clock. Maybe Gabe only knows about the psychic epilepsy— and not the rest.”
    â€œYou mean, not about the fact that you might have only seventy-two,” he glanced at his watch, “make that sixty-eight hours to live?” Jeremy looked down, distracted. “I don’t know. Why do you keep everything from that girl? She’s as tough as old leather. And worth more than gold. You’re a lucky guy.”
    My head snapped toward him, my gaze narrowed. I’d caught the way he