INTO THE NIGHT
Nathan Griffin drove Kota’s sedan through the night. Trees lined the road on either side of him, the lane too narrow for another car to pass. Was this a lane or the driveway?
The headlights weren’t the brightest. The gravel road was littered with potholes. Kota’s car didn’t have the best suspension, either.
He should have brought a Jeep. Or anything else, really.
He gripped the steering wheel, trying to stabilize his roaring feelings so he could pay attention to the road. A deer or another animal could hop out of the woods at any moment.
Why did they have to live all the way out here? What was the point?
Eventually the trees parted enough that his high beams finally came to a large white plantation-style house. It reminded him of some homes he’d seen downtown, where Victor lived, but wider. The surrounding grounds were trim, but bare for midwinter.
The grandeur of the place seemed out of place as it was in the middle of the woods. It seemed too fancy to be tucked away and hidden from the world.
As he drove closer, around the loop of the driveway, this opinion faded. The bushes were a little too wild and needed pruning. The grass was filled with weeds. The front porch appeared in disrepair.
Nathan parked the car, closing the door and hitting the key fob’s button to lock it. Did he even have the right house?
Yet it was exactly where Mr. Blackbourne had described it.
He had second thoughts about coming here late at night, and without calling ahead.
He needed to talk to someone. Lily might be the only one who could help him.
The dim windows of the estate made him think they might not be home. Or that they might already be asleep and not welcoming visitors.
He climbed the front porch steps carefully and put his keys into his pocket. He felt for his phone, secure in another pocket.
He stood at the front door, nervous.
He closed his eyes.
He pictured Sang’s face.
Her tears. The pleas.
He looked down at his own hands, the blood that still stained parts of his knuckles.
Blood on top of older bruises.
He tried to wipe away the blood, but it had dried hard to his hands.
He groaned, shaking his head.
He made a fist and pounded at the door, then stabbed a finger at the doorbell.
After a few minutes, the door inched open and a face appeared. He was shorter, with reddish hair, and a glare that held strong. He frowned at Nathan.
“What do you want?”
“My name is Nathan Griffin,” he said. He pressed his palms against his jeans at his sides, hoping to hide the marks and blood. “You’re Liam? You’ve been mentoring my team. Blackbourne. Sang…”
He nodded slowly. “I know them. I don’t remember you.”
“I’m part of the team, too. I need to…talk to someone.”
“You all have too many on your team. I can’t keep track.” Liam lifted a rusty eyebrow and leaned out of the door. “Can’t it wait until morning?”
Nathan pressed his lips hard together and shook his head. He couldn’t answer that question. Could it wait? Sure. He was supposed to say yes.
He should have called. He should have just sent a text message.
But it couldn’t wait. He had driven all the way out here because he needed to fix things. He couldn’t go back unless he could fix it.
He didn’t know how to talk to her. How could he express himself to her?
How could he tell the others?
“I messed up,” Nathan said finally, lowering his gaze.
Liam sighed and opened the door enough for Nathan enter. “Come in.”
Nathan took a small step inside the home, his sneakers squeaking against the slick floor. He glanced around the foyer, at the difference between the inside and the outside. The inside was cleaner, the upkeep obvious compared to the outside. Nice furniture. Clean surfaces. Homey.
It didn’t make sense to him, but they must have their reasons.
Nathan pressed his palms together, rubbing hard against each, as if he could rub off the soreness in his hand and get rid of the memory of what had happened.
Liam closed the door behind him and then stood back, looking Nathan over. He wore jeans and a navy sweater with a white shirt underneath, and dark socks, no shoes. His face was covered in rust-colored hair. He frowned and then crossed his arms over his chest. “Well? What do you want?”
Nathan glanced around, feeling the room echoed with every little noise they made. There was a great stairwell, and nearby on the right, an open door to what looked to be a library.
He refocused on Liam and then looked down to the floor. “There’s been a fight. Two, actually.”
Liam bobbed his head. “The team split?”
“They…might…” He bowed his head further and closed his eyes tight, trying to keep back some of the emotion. “It’s my fault.”
Liam sighed and then his footsteps echoed, coming closer.
A hand rested on Nathan’s shoulder. “Look at me,” he said quietly.
Nathan picked up his head. He was taller than Liam, and wider. It was strange to Nathan as he felt very young and small with him, something he rarely felt.
Helpless. Useless.
Liam’s lips twisted, frowning and then he spoke. “I’d say it isn’t my problem, but you’re here. You seem sorry about the situation. That’s more than most might do. Most give up without a fight.”
Nathan swallowed thickly. “I’m just afraid they’ll decide to boot me off the team. I’ll lose them. I’ll lose her.”
“If they are your team, they won’t kick you off. It’s always a mutual decision.”
He wished he believed it. But at the moment, he was pretty sure.
Liam motioned to the library room. “Come sit down. I’ll get Lily. You can tell us the whole thing and we’ll see if we can’t work it out.”
Nathan breathed out heavily through his nose and relaxed, but only a little.
He wasn’t so sure it was going to be fixable.