Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
J
Finn Cross should come with a warning label.
Every time I go toe-to-toe with him, I’m left on the verge of a heart palpitation. He has no right—no right—to be that sexy.
Seriously, what the hell gives?
His eyes are mirrors to a tantalizing new dimension.
And his lips?
When I was putting medicine on them, I almost passed out from how irresistible they are, even with a big split in the bottom.
His body?
Chiseled to the finite details.
Since when do body proportions need to be that perfect? Why does a guy need such broad shoulders? I mean come on! Chiseled biceps? Veins that bulge out of perfectly muscular arms? How heavy is a stupid bass guitar?
Thinking about it makes my heart beat fast again.
Oh crap.
Enough, J. Imagine a fluffy little puppy. A harmless little puppy.
The puppy trick used to work—when my biggest problem was whether the prick in the room next door stole the last of the cafeteria’s chocolate pudding cups.
It doesn’t work when my thoughts are a swirling tornado that lead back to the silent, stony jerk. A jerk who seems torn between taking me out of this world and taking my clothes off.
Finn was giving me intense bedroom eyes in the nurse’s office. Especially when I was working on his lip, he looked seconds away from crawling inside my skin and turning me inside out in the best way.
Which is ridiculous.
Finn Cross doesn’t really want me. With those smoldering eyes, he can have any woman on the catwalks of Paris. His bold, editorial looks require an equally bold, editorial-looking partner.
Like things attract.
And the only thing we have in common is that we’re both playing this game of cat and mouse.
I’m not delusional enough to think I have him fooled. Finn doesn’t believe a word that comes out of my mouth. He one hundred percent clocked me about trying to steal his wallet, and he knows exactly why I want to get into the practice room.
We’re using each other and we both know it.
“Every girl who’s ever walked into our practice room eventually becomes our wife.”
My watch beeps.
“Ah, shut up,” I moan.
He was messing with my head. What guy in their right mind would want to be my husband? I can’t fall in love until I figure out a way to fix the broken organ in my chest.
Forget a wedding night.
My husband would only be able to sleep with me once.
After that, he’d be dragging around a cadaver.
I’m not saying Finn wouldn’t make my first time worth it…
The watch continues beeping.
I check my heart rate.
Crap.
Breathe, J. Breathe.
I flop backward on the bed and stare up at the white ceiling until I’m dizzy.
I’m overthinking this.
Even if I got Finn riled up—which is still debatable—he’s probably getting taken care of by a healthy girl who has no problem letting him bang her to within an inch of her life. Because at least she’d still have her life at the end of it.
I groan.
This is totally unproductive.
Rolling over, I pull out the drawer in my nightstand, grab my grandmother’s “Book of Promises” from the depths, and open it to her favorite verse.
Psalm 46:10
Right in the center of the worn pages with all the beautiful highlights is a small plastic bag. I pop one of my experimental heart medications and knock it back with a gulp of water.
“Knock, knock,” a voice comes from the doorway.
I startle and push the pills back into my grandmother’s favorite book, slamming the drawer closed just as a familiar face pokes around the corner.
“Bailey?” My voice drips with shock. “What are you doing here?”
“Hi, J.” Bailey waves and smiles nervously.
I blink.
“I notice you haven’t been downstairs recently.” Bailey clasps her hands in front of her and then changes her mind and slips them into her pockets.
“I guess.”
“I know you miss your friend, but if it makes you feel any better, I asked around about her, and it turns out her husband is a super successful hedge fund manager for a private equity firm, and they’re happily married.” Her eyes dart to the side.
“Oh. That’s great.”
Bailey squirms, and I give her a strange look, still confused by her presence.
“Um, let me check your charts. Did Dr. Kenji come by?”
“Not today.”
“He mentioned wanting to check the batteries on your pacemaker. Lately, he seems very worried about you.”
“Everything is fine. I feel fine.”
“Yeah, these tests are good,” she says, glancing at the chart. “You’ll let me know if you need anything, right? I’m here for you.”
“Thanks.”
Bailey lingers around my bed, and when I don’t respond with anything more, she points to the door. “Well, I better finish my rounds.”
I frown as soon as she leaves. What was that about? Bailey and I barely spoke before I gave her the job of getting Kelly’s husband in the elevator. Is she lurking around in the hopes that I have more jobs for her to do?
So weird.
Shaking off the odd feeling, I approach my computer.
First, I check the encryption.
There’s still no trace of Cadence, Grey, or the ex-Mrs. Cross anywhere on the internet. But I did find something strange. The new Mrs. Cross hasn’t made any purchases with her credit card since the kidnapping either.
She was a big spender before the day the girls disappeared, and it’s not like her credit cards were frozen. The Kings’ father, Jarod Cross, is still campaigning across the country for a seat as governor, so it’s extra weird that his new wife isn’t with him.
I add Marian Cross’s information to the code and re-start the search.
Next, I focus on finding our friend from the stairwell. The AI chat agent I trained is a few seconds shy of being finished sorting through the information from the phone.
It’s been a few hours since I broke the passcode, but I didn’t want to manually go through every inch of the phone. Not when the task is so simple. There are far more efficient ways to extract the information that I want.
“Okay, Mr…” I peer at the screen that has all the text messages, pictures, and even the social media likes of the phone owner organized in neat, bubbly folders. “Ace.”
Ace is probably not his real name, but that’s the name on his social media account and also what his friends call him via text.
Ace is a member of a group called Grave City, which I know because he’s mentioned several times that he’s going to touch up his tattoo to “lock in.”
For someone involved in less-than-savory activities, Ace has a very public persona. His social media has tons of pictures of him drinking in bars, posing in front of motorcycles and fancy cars, and flashing money in front of half-naked women.
“Okay, Mr. Ace. What exactly are you hiding?”
I type in the chat to my AI agent, Henry.
A translucent circle pops on the screen. The circle pulses as the AI works to search the phone. A few seconds later, it types a message on the screen.
‘That’s enough’, I type.
“No, thank you, Henry. That’s it.” I stretch my arm above my head and turn my chair in a circle. “Should I tell Finn I already found this guy’s address?”
The thought of getting in touch with Finn makes me shudder.
Nope.
My heart and I need the full three days away from him.
Clicking out of the AI agent, I grab my phone and scroll to Kelly’s number. My conversation with Bailey reminded me that I haven’t checked up on my friend yet.
ME: Hey, Kelly! How’s it going at home? Bet you miss the hospital’s Wednesday Meatloaf.
KELLY: Hey, J! I was just thinking of you.
ME: Great minds, right?
KELLY: Do you have time tomorrow? Shawn is on a business trip, and I’m so bored at home I almost miss the meatloaf.
ME: Cafeteria jello? On me?
KELLY: Deal.
I laugh, genuinely excited to see Kelly again. It’s been so hectic since Finn barged into my life. I could use the distraction.
Kelly seems to be doing well, but it’s hard to know for sure without seeing her. I fight the urge to go hunting through Kelly’s personal data.
She’s a friend.
I don’t spy on my friends.
But reminding Shawn to be on his absolute best behavior can’t hurt.
Jinx: Remember me?
Dear Canary, are you still being a good boy? Remember to eat your vegetables, avoid elevators, and keep your nasty little hands to yourself.
If you ever forget our agreement, I’ll know.
I don’t need a coffin to bury you.
XOXO, Jinx