Page 205 of Bound By Her

How could he make a promise he’d already broken?

Bryson checked the clock.

5:30AM.

It was late enough. He couldn’t give her what she wanted, but there was one thing he could do.

After Bryson learned the truth about Jonathan, more pieces started falling into place. Like why he visited his father so much in Chicago. Bryson had a feeling that it wasn’t just an old friendship that lured Jonathan into his home town.

Eric’s room was on the south wing. Bryson raised his hand and knocked. When there was no response, he turned his fist to the side and banged on the door, hard enough for the hinges to rattle.

The result was some minor noises inside followed by Eric’s tired face appearing in the doorway.

“What if I was Adria and needed help?” Bryson asked, alarmed at how long it took him to respond.

Eric raised an eyebrow. “Impossible.”

“Why?”

“She doesn’t knock,” Eric said, opening the door so Bryson could come in.

The room was bare. If it wasn’t for the crumpled-up comforter on the mattress, Bryson wasn’t sure he would have believed anyone lived there.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Eric asked.

“I need a phone,” Bryson said, not wanting to waste any more time. “I would have come earlier, but I wanted to let you sleep.”

“How thoughtful,” Eric said.

He opened his closet, pushing a line of gray shirts out of the way, revealing a lock box. Punching in a code, he opened it and threw Bryson his phone.

“You aren’t going to ask me what I want it for?” Bryson asked, shocked.

Eric shrugged. “It’s early, kid. Just make your call and get out.”

Bryson started to dial the number.

“Did you tell her yet?” Eric asked, laying back down in bed.

“No,” Bryson said.

“Why not?”

“Because she has enough to deal with,” Bryson lied.

“Chicken shit,” Eric said, closing his eyes.

Bryson gritted his teeth and dialed the number.

“El, it’s Bryce.”

“Why do you keep calling me from different numbers?” she asked, suspiciously.

“Never mind that. I have an idea. Have one of your guys keep an eye out for Jonathan on 14th Street and Thomson. You remember the place?”

There was a pause on the other line.

“—Sure, I remember it. This is Jonathan Balin we’re talking about, right? The Triune’s mouth piece?”

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