Page 42 of Twisted Hearts

“Back to my office. You want to call your mom, best to do it here. We’ve got scramblers for cell phone service even if they could trace the burner phone. It’s safest to call her here.”

Again, how was this my life? “Oh. This is…God, I feel like I’ve walked into a television crime show or something.”

His windows overlooked a city park, and I drifted in that direction. I’d been so exhausted earlier I’d collapsed onto his couch, but now I took a moment to settle myself before calling my mom. Enough had happened today, and I didn’t want to freak her out if I was panicked.

“It’s pretty out there, almost peaceful, like everyone is just having the time of their life while I’m sitting here outfitted with guns and pepper spray and burner phones like I’m at risk of being murdered in some Mafia crime drama.”

“That is awfully specific.”

His voice held humor, and I spun and faced him. Shrugging, I crossed my arms. “I read a lot. Vivid imagination.”

“Yeah?” His head tilted to the side, his voice conveying his piqued interest. “What do you read?”

“Everything.” I’d been an avid reader since before my feet could touch the ground while sitting in a chair. Every summer, I had practically lived at the library until e-readers had come on the market, and I’d swiped one of those up without thought. They helped to hide my more spicy romance novel covers from judgmental eyes.

“Murder mysteries? Thrillers?” he asked, and my brows furrowed.

“Sure. Why?”

He grinned, and it was so salacious it shot a spark of heat straight to my toes. “Because it’s always the sweet, pretty girls who spend hours of their day immersed in books that teach them how to kill anyone who pisses them off and then get away with it.”

A laugh burst from me. Leave it to Shawn to help lighten the mood. “Nowthatis awfully specific.”

“I’m a cop—I’ve seen a lot of shit.” As if to prove it, he held out the black flip phone he’d grabbed from the safe. “Burner phone. And just so you know, all of these are programmed with 911 as the preset on number 1. You ever need it, hold it down until it connects.”

“Okay.” I took the phone from him and pressed my lips together. Nerves trickled back in. I wanted to talk to her. I also wanted to bury my head in the sand and avoid my current reality. “So…” I glanced up at him. “Call my mom time?”

“If you’re ready. On speaker, if you don’t mind.”

“Why?”

He licked his lips and that soft, cautious tone returned. “So I can hear her voice. If there’s trouble, if your dad’s hurt, I might be able to pick up on the worry in her voice before you can. There are a lot of ways we’re trained to pick up on distress that you might miss.”

He said it like he hated to remind me of it.

I blew out a breath. “Right. Of course.”

He dipped his head, bending down until I met his gaze. It was a phone call to my mom. Why was it so scary? “Hey, I’m sure everything’s fine. I’m sure your mom is okay. There was never anything said about her, right?”

“No. That doesn’t stop me from worrying though.”

“I get it.” He tapped the phone. “Call her. It’ll help you feel better.”

“Right,” I whispered, blinking several times.

“We’re gonna get you to a place where all of this is a memory, Addi. I swear it.”

I finally found the courage to flip open the phone. I punched in the numbers then pressed the speakerphone button, and it rang through the room loud and clear.

While we waited, Shawn pulled out his own phone and showed me the voice recorder app. He pressed record right as my mom’s voice came through the line.

“Hello?” And oh goodness, just hearing her voice gave me relief.

“Mom? It’s Adrianna.”

“Where are you?” She hissed into the phone, and this did not at all sound like the woman who’d told me to run and to keep myself safe. My gaze flew to Shawn, and I had no idea what to say.

“Mom? What’s… Are you okay?”

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