Page 68 of The One Who Won’t Get Away
He hung up, then came back to hover in the doorway.What he didn’t do was tell me what the phone call was about.Yeah, I was a little curious.Okay, I was very curious.
For fuck’s sake, he needed to tell me already.Unless it was something sensitive that Ryan and Leila shouldn't know about?
Ryan finished the door and moved to the windows.He knelt next to the balcony, examining the latch.“This lock is useless.My baby cousin can pick it.”
Leila popped open her case, revealing three different cameras, a bag of motion sensors, and a spool of cable.
“Mozhno ya tut ustrous’ programirovat’?”she asked.Her English was perfect, but she slipped back into Russian for the question so naturally.
“Konechno,”I answered, in Russian.
She hadn't overdone her Ohs or Ahs.So, definitely not Ukrainian or Russian.
“Where are you from?”I asked.
She looked up, surprised.“Kazakhstan.Almaty.”
I was right, she was Central Asian.
At the sound of Leila’s voice, Ryan looked up from his work, but only for a moment, like he was worried Leila would notice.
Nick’s phone rang again.He frowned at the number, then stepped into the hall to take it.I caught bits of the conversation—words like “field office,” “transfer,” “safe house.”
He’d better not be stuffing me into a safe house.I got so much trauma last night I could fill five solo shows, so I needed access to my studio, AKA my bedroom, because let's be real, rent was too expensive to have a real studio in Brooklyn.
Leila slid over a page with Wi-Fi instructions and the password.“Do you want notifications for every motion, or only when the door opens?”
I shrugged.“All of it, I guess.”
She nodded, tapping at the screen.“There is also a panic button here.”She pointed to a small remote on a keychain.“If you press, the police will come.Even if you don’t speak.”
That last part made something inside me go loose.Knowing that help was only a push of a button away was everything to me at that moment.Although would I even get a chance to grab the keys?I wouldn’t have last night if Nick hadn’t been there.
I let the sound of the drill and the tap of Leila’s keys distract me from the memory that kept trying to claw its way up—the memory of the man’s voice, the way he’d hummed while Nick restrained him.It wasn’t a melody, just a string of notes with no beginning or end, but I recognized it.He’d sung the same thing when I was little.Back then, the tune meant he was coming.Now, it meant he’d never stopped.
My hands started to shake.I pressed them flat on the table, counting the seams in the wood grain, trying to stay in the present.
Damn, I really needed a drink.This whole cutting back thing wasn’t working, not when people were breaking into my apartment.
Leila finished programming the kitchen cam and glanced at me, concern flickering.“You okay?”she asked, in Russian.
I nodded, but my mouth was dry.“Yeah.Just tired.”
Nick came back, his face set in lines I hadn’t seen before.He looked at the new deadbolt, the reinforced windows, and the bright eye of the camera blinking in the corner.
“You feel safer now?”he asked.
“Yeah,” I said.
Leila's eyes flicked to Ryan, and I followed her gaze.He was bent over a toolbox, putting everything away.Really couldn't blame Leila for checking out his ass.Besides, it wasn’t like Ryan hadn't done his fair share of checking her out.
Ryan finished up, wiping sweat from his forehead.“You want a demo?”
I shrugged.“I guess I need to know how to use it.”
He took my phone, loaded an app, and pointed it at the front door.He opened the door, closed it, and a second later, my phone buzzed with a notification.A live video popped up, showing Ryan’s grinning face.
“You can check it from anywhere,” he said, handing the phone back.“Even Australia.”
