Cupid's Guide to Murder

Chapter 17: Chasing Nothings

"It's Taylor's," I said.

Griffin's darkened gaze met mine. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, feeling my skin grow hot. Why would she blackmail her? If Taylor had been the one to hurt Natasha, I didn't know what I would do.

"At the party, I saw Kai Adams. She was in such a hurry that she spilled a drink on me and said she didn't have time. I thought it was weird that she would even be there, but maybe she was there for a reason. Maybe she was running away." My breathing intensified, remembering the deer-in-headlight glazed look in Kai's eyes. Kai shouldn't have been there that night, but she was.

It wasn't a coincidence her name had popped up on Taylor's phone.

The two of them knew something.

The thought of it made goosebumps rise on my skin. "I saw Kai's caller ID on Taylor's phone the other day. The only connection between the two was that they didn't like Natasha." I chewed on my lip, feeling my heartbeat quicken. "Do you think Taylor could be the one that killed Natasha?"

I didn't want it to make sense. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it did. She had been trying to scare Natasha, and she wanted her gone. It would explain why she was acting so weird lately. But Taylor couldn't be Killer Cupid. Not the same Taylor I had grown up with, the same Taylor that I had trusted more than life itself.

Could some friendships turn that dark?

They could.

After all, your friendship with Natasha had.

"Haven." Griffin's voice vaguely drifted, but I was too busy feeding into the edging doubt.

He nudged me, his voice growing soft. "If Taylor had anything to do with this, we'll figure it out. You're not alone in this."

My eyes burned with held-back tears.

Griffin took a step closer, his eyes filled with concern. "Hey. Stay with me, Grey."

Without thinking, I threw my arms around him, surprising both of us.

"Thank you," I said, although it came out muffled against his chest. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, and it took him a moment to react. But he slowly brought his muscular arms around me, tightening it after brief hesitation and holding me close. I let my eyes shut. For the first time in a while, I felt safe and finally understood how a person could become home. The musky scent of his cologne and softness of his sweatshirt were a temporary fix — gone too soon as he stepped away, dropping his arms at his side.

I moved back, realizing hugging might've been a dangerous move. My breath hitched.

"You should get some sleep," he said, avoiding my gaze. Before he could turn away, I grabbed his arm and he looked at me questioningly.

"I can't sleep in here. What if her ghost comes or something?" I blurted out, flushing afterward.

"This isn't The Conjuring, Grey," Griffin said. His eyes glimmered with concealed amusement.

"Please don't go." I didn't know what else to say, and he turned to me as if he didn't know how to respond. I guess I looked desperate because his face softened.

"Do you want me to sleep here, and then you can have the main bedroom?"

"It isn't just that. I feel her in the entire house. She's... everywhere." He knew what I meant.

He sighed and said, "Then why don't we both not sleep together? You can have the bed in case you sleep, and I'll take the floor."

"You can have the bed," I said.