Page 98 of Chaotic Curse
We break for lunch and head to the cafeteria.Gina and Lav unpack elaborate salads and sparkling water.I’ve got a turkey sandwich and an apple
Lav looks up, her gaze fixed on the doorway.“Speak of the devil.”
Jordan walks in.
His usual posture is gone—no easy smile, no confident stride.His shoulders are tight, his jaw clenched.
He heads straight for our table.
“Where have you been?”Gina asks, spearing a cherry tomato.
He drops into the chair next to me.“Had to go to the police station.”
I set my sandwich down.“For what?”
He stares at the table.“I noticed a truck following me yesterday morning.Then I get home from my church gig, and a neighbor alerted me to a guy skulking around the house while I was gone.”
Lav’s mouth falls open.“Seriously?”
I say nothing.Already I know it was Hawk.
Jordan raises his head and turns fully toward me now, his voice low but edged.“So tell me.What the hell was your boyfriend doing stalking me yesterday?”
31
HAWK
The barn smellslike dust and sweat.Reyes is slumped where I left him, wrists lashed to the support beam.I’ve jammed a sock into his mouth—not that anyone’s close enough to hear him even if he could yell—but it makes me feel better knowing he can’t make a sound.
He’s going to stay here until I figure out what to do with him.But I need to make sure no one else wanders by.
Eagle’s laid up in the hospital.Dad’s still trapped in his own head, words locked behind the aphasia.Raven has no reason to drive all the way out here.That leaves Falcon.
I pull out my phone and call.He answers on the second ring.
“What’s up?”His voice is casual, but that won’t last.
“You headed out toward the old barn today?”
“Nope.Why?”
“Because if you were, I’d tell you to turn around.”
He pauses a moment.I can almost hear his synapses firing as he wonders what the hell I’m up to and why I didn’t involve him.Finally, “All right, I’ll bite.Why?”
I lean against the truck door.The sun’s high and hot, baking the metal.“We have a…guest in the barn.I figured you might not appreciate the surprise.”
Silence again.
Until, “Are you going to explain what the hell you’re talking about?”
“His name’s Hernando Reyes.”
“Never heard of him.”
“You wouldn’t have.He’s a Colombian national who has a vacation home in Austin.He was one of the men—” I stop, jaw tightening.I’m not sure how much my brother knows about Daniela’s past.
“What, what?”he prods.
