Ride and Die (Ridgemore #1)

18 Puzzle Pieces That Fit Only with Each Other

18

Puzzle Pieces That Fit Only with Each Other

R aven’s Lagoon was a twenty-minute drive from the Periwinkle Hill neighborhood. For the first half of the drive, Griffin followed Bonnie’s glowing taillights in brooding silence, which I only occasionally interrupted to tell Bobo to lie on the blanket I’d draped across the back seat for him.

Ordinarily, I would have left Bobo at home. Raven’s Lagoon sat in the center of steep cliffs and jagged, unforgiving crags. To get down to the shore, we relied on ropes we’d anchored to rock outcroppings a couple of years before, when we’d begun driving, earning our independence—now obviously an illusion; thanks for nothing, parents—and first discovered the place, naming it for the ravens that circled far overhead. Since then, when we wanted to get away from absolutely everyone, this was the spot. We’d never seen another person there. The caws, croaks, and chirps, nestled between walls of rock, were all nature. It was where we could pretend the problems of the “civilized” world didn’t affect us.

I’d have to leave Bobo halfway down the climb, tied up for his safety, which wasn’t ideal, but I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him at home with a bunch of silver-tongued traitors. With pain squeezing my heart as a regular reminder of what they’d done to their own children, leaving him behind with them seemed a worse alternative.

“Sit, Bobo,” I admonished as the pit bull stood again, sliding across the seat as Griffin took a curve too swiftly. Once the dog was settled again, I studied Griffin. His 1976 Ford Mustang Cobra II lacked the dashboard lighting of contemporary cars, but even so I could make out the tightness of his jaw, the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel too hard, how his stare ahead was too fixed, his thoughts a mile away. I could probably read him in the pitch dark with my eyes closed. Everything about him felt familiar.

I searched for something to say, instantly realized nothing would help much, then slumped down in my seat, an arm twisted behind me to comfort Bobo. He was picking up on our ill ease, which was making him extra restless.

A minute later, Griffin grumbled, his voice like gravel as it tumbled across my skin. “I can’t believe it. I keep turning it over in my head, but I just can’t fucking believe it.”

I huffed bitterly. “What part, exactly, of the whole shitshow of deceit and betrayal are you referring to? ’Cause there’s a whole hella lot to pick from.”

For several moments, he didn’t say a word, his breathing coming more heavily. “This whole time, pretty much our entire lives, they’ve known we aren’t normal, and they didn’t tell us?” His voice rose toward the end.

I gave Bobo a final scratch, then withdrew my arm, shifting in my seat to better study Griffin. “I didn’t know that’s how you felt.” So much for being able to read him like a book. “I thought I was the only one who felt out of place, like I don’t quite ever fully belong. Even though I’ve always felt like I belong with you guys.” I paused before adding, “With you.”

Somehow I hadn’t realized that’s how I felt until I spoke. “Like something’s just wrong about everything. I dunno, out of place, maybe? Like life’s a puzzle, and I’m a piece that doesn’t really fit, but someone shoved me in to finish the puzzle even though I didn’t go there. So my edges feel all cramped and my mid-section feels bent when it’s not supposed to bend. Maybe that’s a stupid way to put it.”

I sighed, scrubbing both hands across my face. “Fuck. I’m not making any kind of sense.” After some hesitation, I added hopefully, “Am I?” Had I really felt so out of sorts all this time?

Yes, I definitely had. I just hadn’t wanted to admit there was a problem with my entire life. Because how exactly did one go about fixing that ?

“Holy shit, Joss. That’s how I feel too. Like I’m just going through the motions of a life that isn’t really mine.”

For several long seconds, the night enveloped us. Clyde’s headlights illuminated swaths of thick trees and brush that lined the edges of the road before an all-encompassing darkness gobbled them up. Staring out at what I could see of the forest through the double cones of light, I experienced a sudden tightness in my chest that was in addition to everything my parents had done.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be heading out to Raven’s Lagoon tonight. It’s super dark out.”

“We’ll be fine. We can always park up at the top and not head down if we want. We had to get away.”

“Oh, for sure we did.”

“And even with us leaving our phones behind, there was still no guarantee they wouldn’t know where we went. This was our best bet to actually get away from them.”

“Yeah, I know. I just…” I rubbed my hands across my arms as if I were cold. Only, the night was mildly muggy.

Finally, I turned my gaze back to Griffin. “So, does this mean you believe them and their whole ‘paranormal’ deal?”

“I think it explains what happened with Brady.” Ahead of us, Brady tapped the brakes before whipping around a tight bend in the road. “You saw it. He was dead. Like, you can’t get much deader.”

“And then he wasn’t,” I whispered reverently. I’d probably never get over that miracle, not for as long as I lived.

“And then he wasn’t,” Griffin repeated.

Together, we stared out into the dark night. When the curves became tighter, arriving closer together, he said, “I mean, if you’d’ve told me yesterday we were some kind of paranormal whatevers, I would’ve laughed my ass off.”

I chuckled. “You probably would’ve told me you wanted some of whatever I’d been smoking.”

He laughed once, and when he didn’t immediately continue, I added, “But then today happened.”

“And yeah, all our parents, every single one of them, are massive liars.”

“But what they told us also explains a lot.”

“It really does. That feeling you were just describing? Joss, this accounts for all of that. If we really are paranormal—okay, never mind, that still feels too weird to say, especially since I don’t even know how to say it. But if we really were exposed to something that gave us special healing abilities…”

He sighed, taking a hand from the steering wheel to run it through his hair, scratching at the short hairs at the nape of his neck before clutching the wheel again. “I’m not saying I believe it. I mean, I kind of am, I guess. But what I’m mostly trying to say is that I don’t not believe it.”

He glanced at me. “All the crazy shit we’ve done over the years? Hell, we should’ve been getting hurt left and right. But we haven’t.”

“Well, they just said we might have healing powers, not invincibility.”

“Either way, we don’t even have scars. Brady has one now, but it’s small considering what he survived. You heard the surgeon at the hospital. The Miracle Kid. Because the entire hospital staff couldn’t believe Brady’d come back from a piece of rebar thicker than my damn arm cutting through his chest and heart.”

He downshifted, taking the turns quickly now, one after the other. “That can’t’ve just been luck, Joss. He was dead for like an hour. No pulse, nothing. A fucking huge hole straight through his chest. And then, bam, he’s back.”

Still processing that, I shook my head. “So then we’ve got supernatural healing powers. Or at least Brade does.” I licked my lips. “Sounds so weird to say it.”

He chuckled darkly. “Oh, I know. I feel like I’m half out of my mind just for considering it at all, and yet, at the same time, it’s like the answer I’d been waiting to learn for ages. Like so much makes sense now.”

“It def explains why we’ve both felt so weird all our lives.”

“It does. It’s like we’re gods walking among mortals, only, ya know, not.”

Silence descended again while I processed, or rather attempted to process, the unbelievable. We were drawing close to Raven’s Lagoon now. A few more curves, these the tightest of them all, and then the road would straighten for a short stretch.

Bobo whined from the back seat, and I reached for him again, scratching under his chin. His tongue lolled out of his mouth. “So what’s next? What do we do now? Test the theory?”

“Yeah, something like that. We’re certainly not gonna rely on our parents to tell us what’s what.”

“Hell no, we aren’t,” I said.

“But let’s figure that out tomorrow. I can’t think about it anymore tonight.”

“Agreed. I could do with some letting loose. We probably all can.”

“For sure. We—”

His gaze jerked toward the dark floorboard.

“What’s wrong?” I asked right away.

“Um…” Griffin pumped the brake pedal repeatedly, but nothing happened.

I couldn’t tear my eyes off the sharp curve at the edge of the headlights’ reach.

“Grab Bobo and hold the fuck on,” he barked.

I didn’t bother asking follow-up questions. Griffin was still slamming on the brake, but we were barreling toward the turn.

I gripped Bobo by the collar and heaved him into the passenger seat even as I ordered him, “Bobo, come.” The transfer was awkward, but a moment before we sped into the curve, I held Bobo clasped to my chest.

Griffin pressed the clutch and downshifted from fifth to third gear with a series of jerks that snapped my neck against the headrest. A piercing grind came from the gearbox that no Mustang lover ever wanted to hear.

We squealed around the bend as Griffin flashed the lights several times to warn Brady, but his taillights were already beyond the next turn, which sat at the bottom of a steep incline. I might not be able to see far enough, but I didn’t need to. I knew this road. The worst part was yet to come.

“What the fuck’s going on?” I snapped.

“I think we’re out of brake fluid.”

“But that can’t be.”

“I know. I checked fluids just yesterday.”

“You think—fuck, did someone tamper with the car?”

“No idea why anyone would, but it’s the only reasonable explanation.” He kept pumping the brake with the same result, the engine straining the whole time as he drove us in the wrong gear, trying to force Clyde to slow down. The car was picking up speed on the downhill despite Griffin’s efforts. “I’m guessing someone poked a hole in the brake line. We’ve probably been leaking fluid the whole drive.”

“Fuck!”

The next turn was too sharp, coming up too fast.

Griffin’s eyes didn’t leave the road as he gripped the steering wheel, entirely focused on trying to regain control of the car. We had to be going at least forty miles an hour. The only things left to try were to grind us into second—but that would probably strip the gears, leaving us coasting, completely out of gear, and picking up speed quickly—or to pull on the emergency brake.

The car jerked repeatedly as it resisted the low gear, and with a furious grunt Griffin shifted up to fourth. Still too low for our speed, but it would hopefully delay our stalling.

Before I could suggest it, Griffin yanked on the emergency brake.

Nothing happened, not even the usual crickkk when it was drawn up into position.

Someone must have cut the cable to it.

Griffin gritted his teeth and growled. “Grab Bobo and get ready to jump when I tell you.”

I whipped my head his way. “What? No. Fuck no.”

“Joss, I need you to do this. We don’t have time to argue.”

“I’m not arguing. I’m just not leaving you.”

“I’ll jump after you’re clear.”

I stared at him, the pressure of the passing seconds—moments we didn’t have to spare—clawing at my limbs. “I’ll only jump when you do.”

“You have to get clear first while I can steer, then I’ll go.”

I flicked a panicked look ahead, seeing nothing but straight down as far as the lights shone, too aware the sharpest turn yet would be popping up any minute.

“Don’t think. Just do it,” Griffin said. “Let go of Bobo after you jump so you don’t land on each other.”

My lungs seized at the thought that Bobo might get hurt. “Griff—”

“Go. Now. Before it’s too late.”

How was this happening? We’d been fine mere minutes ago. It was like watching Brady fall to his death all over again, the balcony breaking in slow motion…

“I can’t let anything happen to you,” I said sharply, meaning it wholeheartedly. “If anything were to happen to you—”

“I’ll come back like Brady did.”

“ No . If that’s all bullshit? If Brady just got lucky? I can’t—”

Griffin faced me for a second, meeting my eyes. “ I’ll come back .”

“Don’t you dare put yourself in that position. Promise me.” The words lodged in my throat, everything happening too fast. I wasn’t ready!

“Promise me,” I growled.

Griffin glanced up ahead of us, then leaned across me, yanked on the handle, and wrenched open the door.

“Get ready,” he said.

“No, Griff. No.” But I wrapped my arms around Bobo just the same.

We were going faster now.

“When I say,” he barked, sounding absent, like he was already calculating the precise moment for my jump.

“Griff,” I tried again, unsure what to say. We were already on borrowed time. There was so much unsaid between us. So many hopes.

The door flopped shut.

“Open it back up. Now,” Griffin yelled.

Without thinking, I obeyed, pushing it wide, struggling to hold it open with the rush of air working against me. Bobo shivered in my arms.

“Just in case,” Griffin said—and I tensed. “Joss, I love you. Now go .”

My brain struggled to process what he’d said, what was supposed to be happening. But when Griffin shoved me toward the door, I got my body to do what it needed to do, letting movement and muscle take over. I aimed for the soft shoulder—though it wouldn’t be soft at this speed, just slightly gentler than the asphalt—and pushed off.

A moment before landing, I released Bobo. He hit hard with a heart-wrenching yelp. I slammed into the ground half a second later, the air knocked out of me entirely as I rolled and rolled. I finally bashed to a rough halt, lodged against a tree trunk.

Gasping, disoriented, I searched for Griffin and Bobo. There were no lights anywhere, just the dense darkness cast by tall trees. I couldn’t immediately tell which direction the road lay as I pulled up onto my hands and knees, crawling through prickly brush that pierced the skin of my palms.

“Griffin?” I cried out, though there was no way he’d hear me. “Griffin!”

A single breath later, the sound of an engine grinding unhappily pierced the thickness of the night … then tires sliding across loose rocks … and then nothing.

“ Griffin! ” I screamed.

Crashing metal ended my cry abruptly.

For several seconds, I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move.

Then I forced myself out of it, snapping into swift action.

“Bobo,” I cried this time.

He whined off to the right.

“Keep talking to me, boy,” I said, limping over to him as quickly as I could. A branch whipped against my cheek, another against my forehead, but I found my pittie and dropped to my knees next to him, running my hands over his body, searching for injuries.

“Oh my God, Bobo. Are you okay? Can you walk?”

He tried to stand but crumpled when his front leg buckled under his weight.

“Fuck,” I breathed, studying his body the best I could in the near darkness. From what I could make out, he had an injured leg and probably some cuts, but nothing life threatening.

I slid my arms around him and pushed to standing with him in my hold, wincing at the pain in one of my own legs but not stopping to examine myself. None of that mattered right now.

Getting to Griffin was the only thing that did.

It took me longer to find the road than I would have liked. When I’d jumped, with all the rolling, I’d ended up farther away than seemed reasonable, and the forest’s impenetrable shadows distorted direction.

When I finally reached the road, I was numb. Forcing one foot in front of the other, I struggled with Bobo’s weight but just kept moving. I headed toward Griffin, the man I thought I might love in a way I didn’t love the others.

Who had said he loved me . Maybe it was a declaration of platonic love—it was possible—but then again, maybe it wasn’t.

Another hundred steps, then another. I made my legs keep going until I finally got lucky, the sparse light of the moon brushing across crushed and broken foliage the width of a speeding car.

This was where Griffin’s Mustang had gone over. It had to be.

Gingerly, I lowered Bobo to the ground. “Stay here, boy. I’ve gotta check on Griff. Stay here . I’ll be right back for you.”

Bobo whined, but he wasn’t going anywhere, not on that leg.

Once he was settled, I picked up speed, absently registering the strain I was placing on my own injuries. Things didn’t feel entirely right, but Griffin was down there somewhere, past the flattened brush.

Limping, I made it to the edge, where my breath rushed out of me yet again. It was nearly straight down over the side.

“Griffin,” I yelled, waiting for the slim sliver of a moon to appear from behind a cloud.

When the moon eventually cast its faint light, it caught on Clyde.

Lodged between a tree and a boulder.

Upside down, tires still.

No movement.

“Griffin!”

No answer.

No response of any kind.

Nothing at all beyond the whine of settling metal.

My heart squeezed in my chest like it was calling it quits.

I didn’t let it do any such thing. I forced it to keep working. I made all of me keep functioning as I scrambled toward the edge of the ravine, scouring the mountainside, searching for the best way down.

The hum of an engine reached me over the insistent whooshing of my pulse.

It was far away, but there were no other roads snaking off this one at this point. Too many curves to make turnoffs safe.

“Please, please, please,” I muttered to myself as I limped back toward the road. Without a phone, and without an easy way down to Griffin, the approaching car was my best hope.

I reached the asphalt just as the car’s headlights sped past.

“Stop!” I yelled with everything I had, flinging myself into the road behind the vehicle. With every wish that Griffin had survived, that Bobo was okay, I put it all in my one plea.

“Help,” I screamed one last time.

And the brake lights lit up.

Even from where I stood, a hundred feet away now, I recognized their shape.

“Bonnie,” I whispered, then sank to the ground right where I stood, in the middle of the road.

Bonnie, with Brady at the wheel, performed a quick U-turn. Never had I been so grateful to be pinned down in glaring headlights.

Without rising, I waved my arms to make sure I caught their attention. I didn’t stop until the roar of Bonnie’s engine quieted, and the car slowed, drawing to a stop at my side.

Doors wrenched open quickly as I allowed my eyes to shut with relief.

“Joss?” Layla said. “Oh my God, what’s wrong? Where’s Griffin?”

I lifted my arm and pointed toward the broken branches and foliage, over the edge, to the unforgiving ravine beyond it, where the guy I loved had landed, without me ever getting to say that I loved him back.