Hush Money by Susan Bischoff Page B

I
swear, I did not know what it—”
    “Joss,” he reached out and touched my
shoulder. I jumped—I couldn’t help it—and he dropped his hand
quickly. “I know you didn’t know. You wouldn’t be a part of
something like that. It’s not your style.”
    I almost said something biting, like “How
would you know?” Something to push him back because I was feeling
very literally cornered. But I didn’t. Instead I went with, “I
didn’t think it was hers either. Now I don’t know what to
think.”
    “I didn’t realize there was anything going on
between the two of them, and I’m not pretending to know what’s
going on. But I can say that Marco’s not an easy person to get
along with, especially lately. Sometimes he…makes people do things.
Things they know are wrong, things they never would have believed
they’d do.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    I looked up again and he wasn’t really
focused on me at all, but my question brought his eyes back to
mine.
    “Nothing really.” He smiled, but I wasn’t
thrown by it this time.
    “I thought Marco was your friend.”
    “A lot of people think that. I did too. Never
mind,” he said, shrugging it off and turning to go, “I was
just—”
    I grabbed his sleeve, and we both froze,
looking at my hand. For a minute I thought that maybe he understood
how crazy it was. I didn’t touch people. I encouraged people
to leave me alone. And I still wasn’t letting him go.
    There was a whole jumble of things going on
in my head. I was kind of feeling this growing like for him—as a
person and not just a pair of shoulders—the longer we talked. I was
actually feeling concerned about him, and even though I usually
hated the feeling, I wanted to know more about Dylan. And about
this problem he was hinting at between him and Marco. If he was.
The pink frilly haze of omg, he’s really talking to me was
hard to think through.
    He sighed. “It’s no big deal. He’s just…not
who he used to be, and I’ve been noticing it a lot more lately.” He
paused, and the self-deprecating half smile he gave me made my
heart trip. “He’s been giving you a hard time for the last few
years, Joss. This is the part where you call me an ass because I’m
just now figuring this out.”
    “Sometimes it’s easy to ignore things you
don’t want to deal with. Even if they’re right in front of
you.”
    “Is it?” He had turned back to face me, and
suddenly his question seemed really personal. My pulse was pounding
harder than the music, and you’d think some of that blood would be
going to my racing, light-headed brain, but it must have been all
in my red face instead. I was definitely over-analyzing.
    A loud, authoritative voice boomed in the
room’s wide entry. “If Phillip Meeks is here, we need him to
identify himself and come forward.”

Chapter 11

    Joss

    “Who’s asking?” Phil had been standing behind
the couch, leaning over Jessica Morgan and looking at a magazine
she was holding. He could have dropped to the floor behind the
sofa, but instead he actually walked around it and swaggered
forward, his hands in his pockets.
    I nearly dropped my face into my hands. The moron! Some people just cannot be helped. I had to
wonder if I was one of them since I found myself moving slowly
toward Kat, who had placed herself in the middle of the room,
between the adults and Phil. My instinct should have been to back
farther into my corner, to stay as unnoticed as possible. But I
didn’t want to see Kat make the same mistake twice. Worse.
    “National Institutes for Ability Control.”
Both of the men standing with Kat’s parents, dressed in
loose-fitting black clothes from head to toe, flashed ID cards.
“We’re authorized to take you in under suspicion that you possess
an unreported Ability—”
    “Get out of my house. Dad, tell them they’re
not taking anyone.”
    “Kathryn…”
    “This isn’t a matter that concerns you, Miss
Dawson. We’re just here for the