Page 206 of Broken Bonds
“Smell him? That’s from this morning.”
She opens her eyes, still crying but looking determined now. “Okay.”
“Good. Now let’s hurry.”
She finally opens her eyes and looks around, closing the bedroom door after us and following me down.
“Fuck, she’s a wreck,” Morning says.
“Yeah,” I reply.
We carry the first load of luggage, not rolling it, and I realize if I stick to area rugs, I’m practically silent. Out in the garage, I motion for her to leave the utility room door open as I set down the first load.
“So tell me about what you were envisioning out here,” I loudly say, gesturing for her to start talking. “We can create any kind of setup, from storage, to a workbench, to a crafting space.”
Panic fills her face for a split second before she groks and starts talking as I gesture for her to keep going. I make a few sounds in agreement, then hurry through the house to grab more bags. Upon my return I speak again, ask a couple of cabinet-related questions. I want any cameras that might pick it up to hear it.
“Good job,” Morning softly says in my ear. “Keep going. We’re still clear.”
I transfer all the bags into the garage and walk across the space so the camera picks me up, the tape measure in my hand. I start taking measurements and pretend to make notes on the tablet. She follows, her voice quickly filling with confidence. We return to the utility room doorway, where I mime her opening her car’s deck lid. Fortunately, it has a power lock, so it does so nearly silently.
We keep up the charade, walking back and forth in the garage, into and out of range of the camera, discussing mythical cabinet possibilities, until I have all the bags loaded. The bunny goes on top. Freya grabs my wrist, squeezing hard, looking up at me. I offer her an encouraging smile, and she closes the deck lid.
Wrapping up the “estimate,” I say, “I’ll go through all of this and get back to you by the end of this week with an initial estimate. We’ll need to go through material choices and other options. The garage will be straightforward. Do you want to do it first?”
“I think so. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to it.” I’ve already reclaimed the business card and brochure as Morning ordered. “Oh, did you want to go out this way?” She hits the garage door button.
“Thank you.” I squeeze her hand. “We’ll talk soon.”
She walks me out to the driveway, her smile and wave natural-looking. When I reach the shopping center parking lot, I circle around as Morning instructs.
“The exfil team won’t leave until after she’s in her car and on her way. They’ll follow. Leave that car where we planned, and they’ll pick you up.”
“Copy.”
My stomach winds into a tight knot, but it’s almost over.
An hour later, the SUV picks me up. Freya looks terrified where she sits on the far side of the back seat. “Here’s the phone.” She holds out the one I left on her car.
I slip it into the other Faraday bag. I don’t need to know Morning’s machinations about the setup. I don’t care.
All I care about is bringing my mate’s mom to him.
Tension fills the air as we drive. She doesn’t talk, and neither do I. Her hands twist in her lap as she stares out the window, and I realize the bunny is tucked into the top of her purse.
I take out the earpiece and the radio, shed the jacket, hat, and glasses, and hand everything over the front seat to the passenger. By the time we arrive at the meeting place, my stomach’s knotted.
We pull up next to the other SUV. I can’t see inside because the dark tint blacks out the windows.
I open the door as the front seat passenger hops out and starts transferring her bags with the help of one of the guys from Mal’s SUV.
She looks nervous. “Where are we?”
I smile. “Welcome to your future, Freya.”
Chapter Seventy-Eight
Mal
