I pull the hood up and feel pressure on the top of my head. It’s no worse than wearing a helmet.
“Feel good?”
“Surprisingly, yes. Where’d you get this? It can’t be standard issue.”
“Nah. That’s a prototype. Special forces have it, but no one else yet. That hoodie’s worth more than most cars, so don’t lose it.”
I grimace at him. “I’ll try not to.”
“All right, then. You got your bags packed?”
“No. We’re not leaving until tomorrow.”
“Go pack. We’re leaving now.”
I grit my teeth. “You fucking told me you’d text me a time—which you haven’t done—and we’d leave on Tuesday.”
De Leon nods without expression. “You know how many times you’ve had drone flybys in the last twenty-four hours?”
“I feel sure you’re about to tell me.”
“Twenty-four. One an hour, Max. They’re going to move on you. If not today, soon. So, we’re outta here. Fucking pack.”
The sooner we go, the sooner I get this ass-wipe out of my life. “Okay, I’m packing. Give me an hour.”
“Twenty minutes. I’ve got a car coming for us to take us to the airstrip.”
I don’t bother arguing with him. It’s going to take me every minute just to pack my electronics and power down my rig safely. As I head upstairs, I pull out my phone and start texting.
Tyrone’s the one I’m most worried about. I rarely have any warning of a crisis with him. I’ve been pondering backup since Itold Logan I was going to England for him. It’s ended up coming from an unlikely source.
My timetable’s moved up unexpectedly. I’m leaving today. Are you still okay to cover Ty?
She texts me back before I’ve thrown the first shirt into my duffel.
Brenna: 100%, Daddy Max. Safe travels.
Relief washes through the irritation I’m still feeling over De Leon’s assholism.
Thanks so much.
Brenna: My pleasure. He’s a good kid.
He is. And he deserves better than he’s gotten so far. He deserves an Uncle Max who makes sure he’s okay even when I’m out of town. It lifts a little of the weight on me to know I have someone as rock-solid as Brenna to back me.
I flip over to my messages with Logan and Manny and fire off texts to let them know I’m leaving today. Last, I call Cynnie. I don’t want a text to be the last she hears from me. Unfortunately, she’s still on the train and it goes to voicemail.
“Baby, things have moved up. I’m leaving now. There’s no problem. I’m fine. I don’t want you to worry. I’m just sorry we won’t get to spend tonight together like we’d planned. I’ll call you as soon as I get where I’m going. I want some phone sex, bumble baby, so be ready. And I want to read you a bedtime story tonight, too. I—” I stumble, not quite ready to say it. “I miss you already, Cynnie. Can’t wait until you’re in my arms again.”
I hang up, feeling my cheeks heat at what I didn’t say, before I tuck my phone away.
I’m back in my living room with two duffels, my rig powered down, security up, twenty-three minutes later. De Leon’s sipping another cup of coffee. He doesn’t look ruffled even though we’re slightly behind schedule. Mac wouldn’t tolerate it. De Leon just nods, stands, and collects his own bags.
It occurs to me that I’m still wearing his expensive hoodie. In my icebox of an apartment, its comfortable. Out in the September heat, it’s not going to be.
I tug at the front of the sweatshirt. “Should I?—?”
“Keep it on. Car’s armored, but you can never be too sure.”
