36. IVY
36
IVY
“What is it?”
God, the look on his face alone was enough to send my heart into A-fib.
His sea-glass-green eyes had gone dark and stormy while the muscle in his jaw clenched tight. He tried to wipe the tension from his chiseled features, but it was too late—I had seen it.
“Grayson, tell me,” I insisted.
“I’m going to need a new burner phone,” he said, powering it down.
“Why?”
His eyes snapped to mine. “Because Daniel’s found the number to this one,” Grayson said.
Ice shot through my limbs. “That was him?”
A grim nod.
My stomach swirled with nausea.
“How…how did he find it?” I asked.
Grayson ran a frustrated hand over his face. “I’m sure Seth can explain it better than I can, but I knew it wasn’t impossible.” Thus the reason he’d told me not to use the phone, I guess. “One time, I was on a mission where the CIA used metadata analysis and hacked into apps on one of my targets. It wasn’t easy, but once they had that, they kept trying to keep him on the phone long enough to ping it and narrow down his location.”
“Do you think Daniel knows where we are?” I almost shrieked.
“He wouldn’t have tried to call if he did,” he assured. “If I’d answered, he’d use the call to triangulate our position while we were on the phone.”
“And he thought you’d be reckless enough to let that happen?”
“He’s either desperate or overconfident that I’d be willing to talk to him on account of our long history. Or that I’d be overconfident that I could end the call before he could trace it. In any case, we need to be careful and assume he’s getting closer. As soon as our food comes, we need to leave town, just to be safe.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “We need to warn Red. And call Seth. To do that, I need to get a new burner.”
“Do you have their numbers memorized?”
“Memorizing information is an important aspect of my job.”
Right. A CIA agent can’t be studying paper and GPS when he’s meeting a target.
I twisted my fingers beneath the booth.
“Is there any way to use this to our advantage?” I questioned. “Call him back and have Seth or Barry work their magic to track Daniel down?”
It was probably a terrible idea; chances were, that in a game of GPS chicken, Daniel had the upper hand here with whatever army he’d assembled to hunt us down. But before Grayson could respond, a voice from behind me sent a shock wave through my body, belonging to the last person I expected to see.
“Ivy?”
Grayson’s intense gaze snapped to the all-American figure approaching our booth. With blond hair and blue eyes, he was like a walking Ken doll.
Grayson’s focus snapped back to me with a fresh glare that said, Are you kidding me? We’re on the run, trying to hide your location from everyone, and now, someone recognizes you?
I shrugged slightly.
A silent, unspoken exchange played across Grayson’s features.
Get rid of him. Now.
“I thought that was you!” Kyle’s perfect white teeth glistened under the amber lighting.
“Kyle.” I plastered on a smile. Because that’s what you do when you run into an old fling and you’re not, you know, a fugitive. “What are you doing here?”
Here, in this grimy diner in the middle of Podunk, Nowhere. Last I checked, Kyle was a surgeon. Humble roots or not, shouldn’t he be at a five-star hotel?
“Was just passing through on my way home from the annual meeting of the American Academy of Orthopedic Surgeons. Started nodding off, so I figured I should call it a night and popped in to grab a bite first.”
I was beginning to believe that I must have pissed off a witch in a past life, because what other explanation could there be for bumping into him at the worst possible time?
Okay, fine. I suppose meeting him outside the ladies’ room with the dead body inside would have been worse, but still.
Kyle’s gaze swept over my rigid body, but he was enough of a gentleman to not ask why I looked so tense or why I probably had dark circles under my eyes. Thank God. What would I say?
Funny story…I’m on the lam from the CIA and…you know, complications.
“Jeez.” He ran a hand through his hair, his face sparkling with delight. “How long has it been? Two years?”
Two years ago, running into Kyle would’ve been a dream. He was my junior high crush, and we had a brief thing in high school before parting ways for college. Whenever I saw him around Chicago, the timing was always off—he was with someone, or I was with Pete.
“Something like that,” I managed.
“I’m, uh…” Kyle grabbed the back of his neck, his smile falling. “I’m sorry to hear about your father.”
With that verbal gut punch, I fired a discreet death glare at Grayson.
“Me, too,” I said. “Thank you for the flowers.”
Out of the country at the time, he’d been kind enough to send a condolence bouquet with apologies for missing the funeral.
“Sorry, where are my manners?” Kyle stuck his hand out to Grayson. “I’m Kyle.”
With a forced smile, Grayson begrudgingly shook it—hard enough to make Kyle’s fingers turn white.
To anyone else, Grayson’s curved lips said, “Nice to meet you, Kyle.”
But said to me, You have got to be shitting me.
“Joe,” Grayson said.
I met Grayson’s gaze for a moment.
“Is this your boyfriend?” Kyle asked me.
“No,” I spat out quickly enough to get a glower from Grayson.
Even more awkward was the look of hope that took flight on Kyle’s face.
“So, what are you doing here?” Kyle asked.
“We were just on a little road trip,” I hedged.
“What are the odds?”
Seriously, what are the freaking odds?
“I’ll have to tell Amanda I saw you,” Kyle said.
Shit.
Amanda was an old mutual friend of ours. More his friend than mine, really, and while nothing dramatic had happened that made me lose touch with her, this was a huge problem.
Grayson was discreetly glaring at me right now, which I seriously didn’t appreciate. It wasn’t my fault that out of all the diners in the United States of America, my old teenage crush walked into this one.
Clearly, the universe did not want us to get away with murdering rapist von pig back there.
If Kyle told anyone where we were before we had the chance to get away, we might as well send an invitation to the CIA SWAT team.
Think, Ivy. Think of how to stop this train wreck. Based on the look that Grayson was giving me right now, I didn’t put it past him to not follow Kyle into the parking lot and put a bullet in his skull.
Grayson said he would protect me, no matter what it took. Did that include ending innocent lives?
I guess I needed to have that little boundary conversation with him another time…
“Actually,” I said, “I’ve been meaning to call Amanda. I wanted to surprise her for her birthday.”
Yes! Look at my brain finally working! Her birthday was next week.
“Could you keep our run-in a secret until then? I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“Of course,” Kyle said effortlessly.
I let out a breath, thankful that I must have at least one guardian angel.
“Thank you! And, hey…” Damn, look at me pulling my shit together, being all convincing and confident. “Let’s get together soon.”
Because again, that’s what you say to someone in this situation.
“Absolutely.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “I was actually about to order a quick meal. Do you want to join me?”
I wasn’t sure if he was inviting just me or both me and Grayson. While I longed for the simplicity of conversation with a normal person who didn’t murder people for a living—and, yes, it was tempting, because maybe spending time with Kyle would tame my feelings for Grayson—it just couldn’t happen.
“I’m sorry, rain check?”
Kyle smiled. “Another time.”
Yeah. Maybe in another time, another place, life could go back to normal.
When he touched my shoulder, it looked like Grayson was debating snapping his fingers off.
Thankfully, Irritated Irene interrupted us by slamming a brown paper sack on the table.
“That’ll be sixteen dollars and seventy-three cents,” she said. “Not including tip.”
If I couldn’t cut the tension in here with a spoon, I would’ve smiled at her gumption. It took a lot of swagger for someone to expect a tip after already receiving fifty bucks.
Grayson was out of his seat, throwing a twenty-dollar bill on the table in the blink of an eye.
“Keep the change,” he said in a tense voice, then motioned to me. “We’d better go.”
“Right. Well”—I shuffled out of my seat and looked up at Kyle—“it was really good to see you.”
And then, as if the universe decided that the situation wasn’t quite awkward enough, Kyle enveloped me in a bear hug, pressing my face against his chest. With my head turned to the side, I caught a glimpse of Grayson with a look that could only be described as violent tension mixed with unpredictable jealousy.
The fact that he was a CIA agent with a loaded gun tucked into his waistband only added to the absurdity of the moment. While I doubted Grayson would murder Kyle simply for hugging me, I didn’t put it past him to not blow off his kneecap, either.
Grayson was silent as we walked to the car, the scent of stale coffee and greasy food giving way to crisp pine. He was silent as he threw the gear into drive and pulled out of the parking lot, the engine humming, and he was silent as the asphalt crunched beneath our tires.
As we drove, I wondered…what was upsetting him more? Daniel having found his number? Or Kyle?