Page 169 of Keeping Kasey
“Trust me, it’s better this way. Elise would hound us for a week straight if we ditched.”
“Maybe you. I’ll be out of here by Monday.”
Logan stops three steps from the top. “Since when?”
I turn to face him, and from where I stand—two steps higher—we’re nearly the same height.
“The software is almost fully functional. I only have a few more tests to run before I get the list back. Could even be sooner.”
For someone who’s been searching for this list for eight months, he doesn’t look particularly pleased with the news.
He looks pissed.
Logan’s eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches. “And when exactly were you planning to tell me that?”
It’s the first flare of his anger that I’ve seen in days.
I shrug. “Now.”
“This isn’t something you tell me in passing. You should’ve been giving me updates about your progress.”
“I’m telling you now, and if it hadn’t come up, I’m sure I would’ve told you eventually.”
Logan studies me with a charged look that makes my hands buzz with anticipation, and something like excitement stirs in my gut. Seeing the spiteful, tyrannical side of Logan would make coming to this dinner worth it after all.
But after a long sigh, he takes the remaining steps, and by the time he stands in front of me, his demeanor hasn’t just shifted, it’s flipped on its head. His jaw is relaxed, his narrowed eyes have eased, and his shoulders have lost their rigidity. The flame I could’ve sworn I caught in his gaze has been extinguished, leaving a cold hollowness behind.
“In the future, I’d appreciate updates on your progress and any changes to the expected timeline,” he says in a tone that is matter-of-fact.
The excitement in my gut evaporates.
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He opens the door and walks into the manor.
For just a moment, I consider leaving. I’ve hacked into more high-security institutions than I can count. How hard could it be to hotwire a car? Sure, I’ve never driven before, but it can’t be that difficult.
There is no place on earth you could hide from me.
The mystery caller’s words snake into my head out of nowhere, and my shudder has nothing to do with the wind cutting across my skin.
I heeded the warning and kept my mouth shut, despite knowing that’s how things got so screwed up between Logan and me in the first place.
But what they have on me…
I’m not sure exactly how much they know, but regardless, I don’t take the threat lightly. Still, I can’t just bow down to the orders of someone who refuses to name themselves.
I haven’t decided exactly what I’ll do when they reach out again, but one thing is sure: I won’t be giving that list to anyone but Logan.
Whatever else happens, I can handle it. I ran once, and I can do it again.
Especially because—based on James’s questions yesterday, and the paper supplier clientele list Jace printed for Logan that I may or may not have checked out—I’m starting to think Logan’s method of finding me wasn’t the product of his investigative genius.
With a deep breath, I put one foot in front of the other until I’m at the doors I hate so much, and go inside.
The scent of marinara fills the entryway, making my stomach growl.
I hadn’t realized I was hungry.
Voices and laughter drift through the house, and for the first time, this place feels a bit like an actual home.
