Page 12 of Kissing Kayley
“You do that.” I hung up on him.
“I hate that codename,” she said.
“Blame your brother.” I held out my right hand. “Give me your bracelet.”
“What?”
I snapped my fingers and pointed. “Your tracker bracelet. Give it to me. Right now.”
She unfastened it and handed it to me. I rolled down the window and flung it out as we crossed over a bridge spanning a valley with a river nestled some hundred feet or more at the bottom. It was a two-lane road and I watched it sail over the railing on the far side. I’d have to get her a replacement but could handle that after we arrived at our destination.
“Now what?” she asked, and I hated the fear in her voice.
I rolled the window up. “Now I make another phone call.”
CHAPTER 5
Kayley
Seeing Vic drop into full-on work mode was, weirdly enough, kind of hot, even as it vaguely disturbed me.
I was more than a little shocked when Vic tossed my bracelet out the window.
No, correction, not shocked—terrified.
It terrified me he would do something like that. It meant whatever the situation, it was really,reallybad. I was old enough to remember 9/11, and the fear curdling inside me now reminded me of the haunted stories I’d heard from my parents and others about that day.
Their fear, anger, and raw, deep grief, even if they didn’t personally know anyone who’d died.
The paralyzing terror during those initial hours when no one knew if there were more attacks underway.
I didn’t have my personal cell phone to scroll through the news. I’d left it at home, locked in my safe, per Vic’s orders. All I had was the burner flip phone he and Leo both insisted I carry. It could call and text and that was it. The only people I used itto communicate with were Vic, Leo, Jordan, and my parents on their own burner phones.
Not wanting to interrupt Vic’s train of thought I quietly sat there, watching as he plugged in a call on his personal cell, leaving it in speaker mode as we drove.
A man answered. “Vic?”
“Hey, Ced.”
“What’s going on? You okay? Weird shit’s on the news. All those attacks, man.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’m safe. Listen, I know this is short notice, but I need a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
Vic glanced at me. “We’re arriving at your house late tonight. Two of us, one bed. Can we crash with you? And can you snag us a three-week reservation starting tomorrow at you-know-where? For two? I know it’s last-minute but I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. That’s all I can tell you right now.”
I thought maybe the call dropped because it went quiet. Then the man spoke again.
“Is this personal or work-related?” he asked.
“Yes,” Vic said.
The other man let out a soft grumble. “How much do I want or need to know?”
“Right now? Nothing,” Vic paused. “Nothing Icantell you. Not over the phone. And no one else can know, either. I meannoone. Not even Terrie.”
The man sighed. “You can definitely come here. Stay as long as you need. But I’ll have to speak to someone before I give you an answer about the other. I can’t authorize that without permission, not even for you. And they’ll likely want to speak to you both in person before they give you a firm answer.”
