Chapter 43 Scurvy and lobotomies
FORTY-THREE
Scurvy and lobotomies
REED
With an irritated groan, I tap the ignore button to send Kenzie to voicemail again. Guess she got tired of blowing up my phone with texts and is switching to calls now. Terrific.
For the last two hours, she’s been relentlessly asking about Lila. I’d call it hounding me, but even hounds go away when you don’t feed them.
Kenzie:
Call me.
Me:
Unless you’re in danger, I can’t talk now. I’m working.
Are you with Lila?
Where is she?
She’s usually home by now.
At that point, I replied, saying Lila was at work, stressing again that I can’t talk now because I’m also working.
Kenzie:
Is she coming home tonight?
Why isn’t she answering my texts?
Is she mad at me or something?
She never ignores my calls. Are you poisoning her against me?
Yeah, right. I don’t need to poison Lila against her. Kenzie does just fine with that on her own.
Since it clearly wasn’t an emergency, I stopped reading the texts at that point.
And then the phone calls came.
Taking a call would’ve pulled my focus away and put Lila’s safety at risk. As it was, the texts were a huge fucking distraction.
The sledgehammer of dread pounds away at my skull. The whacks have gotten more aggressive with each buzz of my phone. Initially, I was worried she was in danger or some type of crisis, but her texts told me it was just Classic Kenzie behavior.
Even still, she’s already been through a lot. And I need to talk to her about it.
Just not right now, dammit.
As it is, I’m on the edge of my seat waiting for Agent Carson to transfer my cookie back to my custody. Technically, I’m in a grocery store parking lot for the planned meetup. But whatever.
I need to keep my eyes peeled for danger before they arrive. So far, practically everything has gone off without a hitch. I won’t drop the ball now because Kenzie thinks the fucking world revolves around her.
After listening to the tense exchange from the break room, Lila’s got to be a wreck. Her body language for the remainder of her shift was that old plastic version I used to despise. Like a faintly smiling robot.
Dana’s words had to cut her deep. I want to wrap her in my arms and tell her how damn good she did. That I’m so fucking proud of her. And that she has no reason to feel guilty.
Fuck that. This isn’t a want. I need to hold her.
Once she’s safe with me, I’ll deal with Kenzie. They’re called priorities. And mine are cast in stone.
Headlights in the distance creep closer. I keep my head on a swivel. So far, all’s clear.
As Carson and Lila come into focus at the entrance to the parking lot, I exhale some of my necessary anxiety.
I’m reminded of something my instructor at Quantico used to say.
If you ever find yourself totally relaxed when in the field, you’ve already lost the game. That fear will keep your senses sharp. Harness it. Channel it.
Approaching the car swiftly, I make a beeline for my girl and open the passenger door. When Lila doesn’t do it herself, I reach inside to unlock her seatbelt. Her scent invades my lungs, smoothing over my frazzled nerves.
“Come on out. My car is right there,” I tell Lila.
She remains seated, hands fidgeting in her lap. Head down and unspeaking.
Carson leans over the console toward Lila. “He isn’t mad. Trust me.”
Mad? No fucking way.
I squat, hovering in the scant space between the passenger door and the vehicle. Aligning our faces, I try to catch her attention. “Hey, cookie. You did so damn good. I couldn’t be prouder of you.”
She flashes those sad eyes at me, making me want to wrap myself around her even more than I already did.
“Really?” she whispers, her tone unusually monotone.
I nod at her, softening my facial features.
“I messed up so bad with Dana.” Her expression intensifies, as if she’s screaming at me with her eyes. “Reed, I told her you were FBI.”
“So what? Shit happens. We’ll handle it. If I ever have a CI who does everything perfectly without a little misstep, I’ll let you know.”
Carson adds her two cents. “Don’t hold your breath.”
“See? It’s fine.” I caress Lila’s leg, careful not to get too personal in front of my fellow agent. “Come on out.”
Not sure why I’m trying to conceal what’s going on with Lila and me. They’ve already put the pieces together. Can’t fool a group of agents like this.
A growing part of me wants to say fuck it and make it official by kissing her right in front of my entire team.
Except the SSA. I might be bullheaded, but I’m not an idiot.
Chase has already cautioned me about keeping some distance for the integrity of the case. Then she said that if something is going on, she’d rather not know.
Lila glances at Carson, flashing a ghost of a smile. “Thanks for the pep talk. And everything else.”
“No problem. We got you.”
After we get into the car, I drive us out of the parking lot without speaking. I’m still in protector mode. Once I get us clear of the area and ensure we aren’t being followed, I’ll work on downshifting from agent to boyfriend.
Fuck. I’m a boyfriend.
That sounds so pathetically cheap for what Lila and I have. I know it’s still new by societal standards. But it also isn’t. This isn’t superficial or casual.
You know what? Labels are pointless. She’s mine. I’m hers. Period.
My mental detour does the trick. I reach over the console to take her hand. The feel of her silky skin brings me the rest of the way back to her.
Unable to resist, I lift her hand to my mouth to graze her knuckles with my lips. However, I pause before I make contact. “You washed your hands after touching all those chips, cards, and cash, right?”
She laughs, the vibrant sound filling the car like a decadent perfume. “Yes. I don’t want to get scurvy.”
I kiss her knuckles through a budding smile. “I don’t think that’s how you get scurvy, Lila.”
“You sure? That’s what the potatoes told me.”
Nice to see my cookie is returning to her default setting.
I merge onto the highway, then crick a brow at her. “Did the potatoes have patches on their eyes?”
She points at me, eyes dancing. “Aha. I see what you did there.”
Our laughter sobers up, and I decide to ask something that’s been bothering me since I opened Bianca’s car door. “Cookie, why did you think I’d be mad at you? Was it only because you slipped and told Dana we’re FBI? I get the feeling it was more than that.”
Lila props one elbow on her door, resting her head on the passenger window. “It’s inconvenient how well you know me.”
“Not for me,” I jest.
“The FBI slip with Dana was part of it. But mostly I was worried I’d blown it. She was this close to joining me, then it all crumbled. In one fell swoop, I lost a potential ally for me, another witness for you, and put her daughter in danger. It was the F up to end all F ups.”
I open my mouth to tell her to just say fuck but think better of it. Instead, I squeeze her hand comfortingly.
In a quivering voice, she adds, “If anything happens to her daughter, I’ll never forgive myself. I can’t be responsible for another child dying.”
Before I’m able to respond, her phone rings. It zaps the hopelessness right out of her, replacing it with rage.
“Argh. Not again.” She huffs, digging her phone out of her purse.
“If this keeps up, I’m gonna block her. When I got my phone out of my locker, I had three missed calls and fifteen texts.
Fifteen! That’s too many to find out why I’m avoiding her.
” She declines the call and throws the phone onto the floorboard.
“I cannot take this tonight. Some of us have bigger problems.”
“Not to pile on, but she’s also texting and calling me like mad.”
Lila flops against the headrest. “What are we gonna do about her?”
“I want to say murder. But that doesn’t feel right.” I playfully shrug. “Maybe we’ll go with lobotomy.”
She gives me a nasally chuckle. The kind that’s mostly an annoyed harrumph. Which is fair. “Let’s go with a lobotomy. For me. Not her.”
Neither of us speaks for a few moments. It’s not a tense silence, but something else. Lila’s shine is dulled. Almost like she’s defeated.
After a haggard sigh, she says, “I bet she figured it out.”
Absentmindedly, I skim my hand over the top of her thigh. “Probably.”
“I don’t even know what to say to her. There isn’t an explanation that could justify her actions, let alone excuse them. So what’s the point of talking to her?”
I hate watching Lila hurt like this. She’s coming to terms with her new reality. That marble pedestal she put Kenzie on has collapsed into dust and rubble.
I’ve had a lifetime to get used to how it feels to be hurt by Kenzie and our mother. This is new for Lila.
Wanting to ease her pain, I take her hand once more. “Avoidance won’t help for long. We need to get this out so we can all move on.”
“How can we ever move on?” She pulses her fingers in mine. “I have no clue how I can be her friend after this. And I don’t have the spoons to figure it out.”
Ignoring the spoon comment because I don’t want to give her a chance to distract me again, I offer a suggestion. “Why don’t you send her a text message to put her off for one more night?”
My phone rings before she can respond.
She glances at the car’s display screen where Kenzie’s name appears.
“You know what? Screw it.” She taps the answer button, connecting the call to the car’s speaker, and yells, “Kenzie, leave us the hell alone, you freaking liar.” With a shaky finger, she taps the end call button before my sister can respond.
“Or you could do that. A bit different direction than I was thinking, but it works too.”
Lila stares at the display screen that’s now back to the radio station and song info. Her eyes are wild. Her jaw is on her chest. And the corners of her lips are quirking up like she’s fighting a smile.
“Oh. My. God.” She breaks the staring contest with the song title and flashes a self-satisfied grin at me. It grows until her entire face is lit with diabolical glory. “That felt so good. I kind of want to call her back and do it again.”
Hmm. I don’t know whether to laugh with Lila or check her in for a psych hold.
I go with the former. She joins in, all out hooting and hollering. And then the tides turn quickly. Her braying guffaws turn into silent sobs until she’s curled in on herself.
Perhaps I should have opted for the psych hold.
I consider pulling over to comfort her, but I see the parking garage entrance. “Cookie, we’re almost home.”
“Nooo, we’re almost to your home.” Big sob. “My home will soon be in a tree with the birds.” Three more sobs. “That’s all I’ll be able to afford once they fire me.” Two sniffles and another sob. “And the branches won’t hold my big ass.” Wailing.
I’d like to tell her they won’t fire her. But they totally will. Instead, I offer what I can. “First of all, your ass is a work of art, and any branch would be lucky to have you on it. And second, ditch the treehouse and move in with me.”
Judging by her face, that was the wrong thing to say.
“We’ve only been together for a day and a half, Reed!” She buries her face in her palms. “Mawh whee shi ah poo hi.”
Okay, that last part isn’t what she said. It’s what it sounded like with her hands muffling her voice.
I get her point, though. Clearly, she’s concerned about what others would think about moving in with me so soon. Or maybe she’s worried this won’t last. I’ve got my work cut out for me to change her mind on both of those fronts.
Lucky for us, I’m fantastic at setting and reaching goals.
She doesn’t even know we’re in the garage until I park and turn off the car. Her head pops up and swivels to take in our location. “Oh. We’re here.” After quickly wiping her face, she says, “Maybe the condo isn’t too high for me after all.”
I run back the jumble of words she wailed into her hands. I bet it was something about my place being up too high for her to live in. Huh. Little does she know I’d sell it tomorrow and get a house or ground-floor unit if that’s what she needed to feel more comfortable.
“Let’s go inside, cookie. You’ll feel better after a nice, warm bath.”
She sniffles and faintly smiles. “Okay. That sounds good.”
Then I’ll lay her on my bed, tell her she’s a good girl, and eat her for dessert.
I got this boyfriend thing down pat.