Providence

Jared raised an eyebrow. “And why is that? I thought staying alive would be a good enough reason for you to want to stay here with me. You didn’t mind when I needed to dress your hand every night.”

“It’s not about that. It’s about being forced into hiding, it’s about my friends, and it’s about keeping some degree of normalcy in my life. I know you want me here where you know that I’m safe,” I explained, resting my hand on his leg.

“Not just to keep you safe. I just want you here,” he said, tenderly tracing my jaw line with his fingertip.

I smiled at his words, my jaw radiating with the heat from his touch. “We have plenty of time for that, right?”

Jared’s eyes immediately clouded over and I final y understood the urgency. He wanted to spend every second of the time we had left together. I looked away from him; I had to have faith that we would make it through this. My eyes felt heavy and I turned onto my side, pressing my cheek into my pil ow.

“I have faith in you, Jared. More than you have in yourself. I’m not afraid,” I said, closing my eyes.

The door slammed and I jerked, looking around the room. It was morning.

“Can you close the door like a normal person?” Jared snapped.

“This is a terrible idea, Jared. Maybe the worst one you’ve had, yet,” Claire complained. Smal footsteps stomped up the stairs. “You have to talk him out of this, Nina. He won’t listen to me. Not in the mood he’s in.”

“Stay out of it, Claire,” Jared said from downstairs.

Claire made a face and then jumped from the railing, landing on her feet. “I can’t stay out of it, because you keep making it my business!” she hissed.

I quickly dressed and met them downstairs. Jared was dressed in a buttoned-down shirt and slacks, holding a motorcycle helmet. He shoved it toward me without a word.

“What’s this?” I asked, staring at the helmet.

“I think better on my bike,” Jared said.

I looked up at him. “What’s going on?”

His expression didn’t change. “Are you coming or not?”

I looked at Claire and then to Jared. I pressed my lips together and then took the helmet from him. Claire sighed and stormed out.

I fol owed Jared outside and eyed the slick, black beauty parked on the curb. “What is that?”

Jared sighed. “It’s a Vulcan.”

“Weird. I thought it was a motorcycle.” I smiled, but Jared didn’t find humor in my words. I put up my hand and separated my fingers into a ‘V’. “Live long and…no?” I shook my head, seeing that Jared was in no mood for jokes.

I shoved the helmet on and fastened the chin strap. My father had a motorcycle and, although I’d never been brave enough to drive one, I was wel – versed in being a passenger. Jared revved the engine and I climbed on behind him, glad that it was another nice day.

He raced down the street, taking various turns. It wasn’t until we pul ed onto the sidewalk in front of Sovereign Bank that I understood the reason behind Jared’s mood. He lifted me off the seat as if I weighed nothing, placing me on my feet.

“Is there a reason you’re not speaking to me?” I asked, shoving his helmet at him.

“It’s not you that I’m angry with. It’s Jack,” he growled.

“Why?”

“Because he’s making it impossible for me to keep you distanced from this. They need both of our signatures. The box is in a special area. We need the key, our signatures and our fingerprints to get in,” he said, glaring at the door of the bank.

“But they don’t have my fingerprints.”

“I’ve never given them mine, either, but they have it on file,” Jared said, distant and cold.

“You tried to come here without me? Is that why Claire was at the loft?” I crossed my arms. “And let me guess, it just burns you that you needed my help after al .”

Jared’s eyes jerked to mine. “Is that what you think?” I stood with my arms stil tightly intertwined across my ribs. Jared shook his head at me and held out his arm. “After you.”

We walked into the bank and a man in a stuffy and notably hideous light grey suit approached us.

“Mr. Stephens, this is Nina Grey,” Jared said.

The man held out his lanky hand and I took it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you Miss Grey. Right this way.” He ushered us across the lobby to an elevator.

Once inside, he used a smal key to gain access to a lower floor that wasn’t on the button display.

The elevator opened into a cavernous room with an enormous bronze vault. Mr. Stephens briskly walked ahead of us, taking his place behind a tal desk with a computer. As we approached, he was tapping the keyboard.

“Miss Grey, I’l need to see two forms of identification, please,” Mr. Stephens said, looking up from the monitor.

I shot an irritated look at Jared, realizing I’d left my purse at the loft. Jared reached into his jacket pocket and pul ed out my wal et. I snatched it from his hand and then put my driver’s license and student ID on the smal space in front of the computer monitor. Mr. Stephens’ eyes darted twice between my face and each of the cards and then nodded. I put the cards back into my wal et as he repeated the process with Jared.

“Miss Grey, there is a red pad in front of you. I’l need you to press and hold your thumb there until you see a flash, and then I’l need you to do the same, Mr. Ryel,” he said, watching us both fol ow his directions. “Now sign here and approve the date with the green button when you’re finished.”

I hastily signed and clicked the button with the pen, handing it to Jared, who signed his name under mine.

“And you have the key?”

“We do,” Jared said in a low voice.

“Right this way,” Mr. Stephens said, the vault automatical y opening.

The room was fil ed with various sized boxes, al plated in the same bronze color as the door. Our steps echoed against the marble floor.

Mr. Stephens turned to us, pointing to a shiny golden square on the wal with a smal black button in the center. “Press this button to let me know you’re finished. It was a pleasure doing business with you. Miss Grey…Mr. Ryel,” he nodded, leaving us alone. The vault door sealed shut behind him, and Jared’s eyes drifted to mine.

“Okay, he was creepy,” I whispered, half-expecting Jared to offer comfort.

Without a word, he walked ahead, pul ing the key from his pocket. I scanned the boxes on the wal and noticed that the numbers were out of order.

“This is going to take forever!” I complained. Jared stil didn’t respond, so I rol ed my eyes and looked for box eight twenty-five.

Ten minutes later, Jared cal ed to me. “Nina?”

I rushed toward his voice and found him in the back corner, looking at a bronze square the size of a shoebox. “Wel , we should have looked back here, first. This is just like Jack, isn’t it?”

Jared stil didn’t speak; he simply shoved the key in the lock and opened it, exposing a tan safe with a large black combination lock and handle on the front. He placed the safe on the floor at my feet as if it were a shoe box. I was sure it must have been at least fifty pounds, if not more, but Jared didn’t brace himself against the weight. The muscles of his arms didn’t even strain.

“The code is a combination,” I said.