Page 82 of One More Bad Boy

- Chapter Twenty-Six -

Amina

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The Lyft was aboutto get on the 405 when my phone rang. Not recognizing the number, I answered it. “Hello?”

“Amina? Hey, this is Farrah.”

“Oh, hey.” Why was she calling me?

“Could you swing by the office? I've got some mail here for you.”

I glanced at my driver. “I think that's okay. I'll be there soon.” I hung up, then gave the Lyft driver the Beats and Blast address. What kind of mail did I have?Just go in, grab it, then get to the airport.

Letting the Lyft driver know to wait a few minutes, I darted into the big building. I kept shooting nervous looks around, expecting Bach or Violet to pop up any second. I felt awful not saying a proper goodbye, but they sounded so miserable in the kitchen. I was sure this was better.

“Amina!” Farrah said, waving when she saw me approaching. I jogged up to her desk, and she handed me a little box. The stamp on it said it was from LAX.

“Oh!” I gasped. “My old phone!” Fumbling it out of the box, I laughed in surprise. “Never thought I'd see this again. Thanks.”

Farrah extended an envelope to me. “There's also this.”

Turning it side to side, I frowned. There was no writing on the outside. “What is it?” I asked.

“It's from Mr. Devine.”

A tremble that didn't seem to end began in me. Clutching my old phone, I weighed the envelope in my other hand. Why did it seem heavy? Was it because I knew there was something terrible inside?

“Hey,” she said, leaning closer. “How did it all go last night?” I stared at her in confusion. “Vegas,” she clarified.

“It went... fine.”

“Really?” She twisted her mouth. “Weird. When he came through here earlier, he looked bad.”

I tapped the envelope on my wrist. “I need to go. Thanks, Farrah. For everything.” Not letting her respond, I raced out of the building. My driver eyeballed me as I dove into the backseat.

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