Page 11 of Her Keeper
“Gone,” he said. “Asked me for tea and then left when I was in the kitchen. I figured she must have the rest of the day off since you were gone.”
Gone.
And I was guessing she hadn’t left a note about where she’d been planning to go.
I turned, threw my phone against the wall in fury, and started for the stairs.
I had about a million problems to try to solve and a father who was now wounded. But I had to find Penny before I took care of anything else.
Before my father decided he needed to look for her, too.
5
PENNY
Igot as far as the cafe where I went every morning for a coffee on the way to work before I stopped, heart hammering and breath sharp in my lungs.
It turned out heels and a pencil skirt weren’t good for running—a thought that had occurred to me moments before I realized that running along the sidewalk also probably wasn’t the best way to hide from people looking for a woman fleeing on foot.
I’d ducked into the cafe, and then into the hallway running from the main room to the alley behind it, and then put my back against the wall and leaned back, trying very, very hard to think.
Okay, Penny, what do we know?
The question usually helped me center my thoughts and get myself together, but right now all I could think about was that Michael was out there somewhere, looking for me and probably already planning how he was going to kill me. I had a flash of memory of those blue eyes turned shadowy in a dark closet, in a party in high school. The feel of his lips on mine, far too soft and far too warm, and the flash of adrenaline rushing through my body at the idea that I was actually kissing Michael Rossi. The boy who’d come to my rescue when I was in trouble.
Then I jerked back to the present. Michael Rossi wasn’t coming to my rescue right now. The only person I could count on was myself. And that wasn’t going to go well if I couldn’t even get out of my own head.
“Focus,” I hissed to myself. “Think. Figure out how to get out of this alive.”
Words I’d never in a million years thought I’d have to say to myself. I’d never thought I’d be in a situation like this, though. Which meant I didn’t have a go-to plan for how to deal with it.
Call someone, I realized. I had to get help.
But who could I call? Not Sloane. She might be with Joseph, and if Michael had told him what I’d done, that wouldn’t be safe. Brooks? I wasn’t sure. If Sloane knew what had happened, she might have told Brooks.
Would they be on my side, or Joseph’s?
I couldn’t be sure. And that both frustrated and terrified me.
My brother?
He was furious at me. I wanted to think he’d save me, but I also knew how close he and Michael were. And if Michael was out there telling everyone I was a rat…
“Shit, shit, shit!” I hissed. Why the hell hadn’t I thought of all these repercussions before I told Monica that I’d work with her?
Monica. That was it. I’d call her and tell her what had happened and that I needed out. She was the one who’d forced me to take this job. Surely that meant it was also her job to get me out if I needed… extraction, or whatever they called it.
I fumbled my phone out of my purse and found her name with trembling fingers, then hit ‘call.’ Monica answered after two rings, her voice expectant.
Probably thinking I was calling her with more information for her article.
I almost laughed at the thought. It seemed so ridiculous, now.
“Monica, it’s Penny Lane,” I gasped.
“Yes, I’m aware,” she snapped. “I have your number saved. What do you have for me?”
God, I hated this woman. She couldn’t be polite at least once?
