18. Pow! Right in the coochie
Chapter 18
Pow! Right in the coochie
LETTIE
A s unlikely as it may be, I sure hope this normalcy lasts a while. Not to be a Negative Nancy, but let’s be real. These days, I’ve got more problems than a three-legged dog walking on a tightrope.
Sunshine is on the horizon, though. In fact, it’s surrounding me in this very room.
Exactly as I suspected, Stella and Freya are hitting it off famously. Although I’m mostly teasing them about falling in love, I’m still hopeful. However, after seeing Stella interact with Jonesy, I don’t think Freya stands a chance.
The three of us are on the floor, gathered around the coffee table and playing cards with Marley. Meanwhile, Kri paces around the room acting like a... well, a bodyguard, I suppose.
Stella’s rattling through another long, silly story as she shuffles a deck of cards, preparing for the next deal. This one’s about the time Laura Fitzsimmons got her hair caught in the paper shredder at work. The fire department was called because she refused to let anyone cut her free. Spoiler alert: They cut her hair anyway.
I’ve heard the tale before, so I check my phone.
Again.
Still nothing from Tomer.
To remove the temptation to call him, I slide the phone under my thigh.
Gasp.
I meant text . The temptation to text him.
Good Lord in Heaven , that was a close one. And I’m not even tipsy like my besties.
“Lettie, you okay?”
My head whips toward Freya. “Yep. Why?”
She puts her hand on my leg under the coffee table to steady it while holding my gaze.
Oh sugar smacks . I didn’t even notice my leg was bouncing.
Stella narrows her immaculately drawn-on brows at me. “Girl, your leg’s a-twitchin’ worse than Kate Kelly was at her nephew’s graduation party.”
The memory dances through my mind, drawing a giggle from me. My nerves reduce almost instantly.
This is why my friends are here. To take my mind off the bad shit so I can attempt to live again.
Freya’s begging eyes dart between us, and she clasps her hands in a prayer position. “Story, please.”
I twirl my fingers in Stella’s direction, yielding the floor.
Glancing over my shoulder, I check to see if Kri’s listening. She doesn’t seem to be. Unfortunately, she’s been mostly disconnected from the group, making me wonder if she feels unwelcome. I don’t like the thought of that. She’s one of my rescuers; therefore, she’s always welcome with me.
Stella clears her throat and sets down the playing cards, which is a relief. If she went at it much longer, she might have shuffled the tits off the queen. “Kate’s a wild one back in Climax. When she hosts a party, there’s no telling how it’ll end. Could wind up streakin’ through town square or passed out in Jenny Christensen’s rose garden.”
Both of those things happened after Kate’s parties.
To protect my good name, I interject, “For the record, I didn’t partake in those activities.”
“Of course, Lettie. We believe you.” Freya taps the back of my hand and makes doubting duck lips at me.
While suppressing a giggle, I swat her hand away.
Stella resumes the story. “Well, Kate threw one of her legendary parties to celebrate her nephew graduating college. As per tradition, she got blitzed on fuzzy navels.”
“Well, sure.” Freya nods along indulgently. “The fuzzy navel is the most sacred of all traditions.”
After taking a sip of wine, Stella keeps spinning the yarn. “Despite Kate’s advanced age, those college hunks looked good enough to eat.” She mimics licking her fingers like she’s enjoying fried chicken. “They were football players. Young, dumb, and full of cum. Legal consenting age. Barely .”
“Cougar bait,” Marley whispers, mostly to herself.
Freya’s riveted by the story. I swear she’s got hearts in her eyes. Looks like Jonesy has competition for Stella’s affections.
“Cougar bait is right.” Stella swirls the wine around in her glass. “To be clear, I’m not shaming anyone for what allegedly occurred that night. Good for Kate. Hope I’m doing as well at her age.”
“We should all be so lucky, Stella Bella,” I tease.
“From your mouth to God’s ears, Lettie. Howeverrr ,” she draws the word out, straightens her spine, and tilts her head to one side.
“Oh my fucking hell,” a voice bellows out from the other side of the room. “Hurry up and tell us what happened!” Kri stands with her hands on her hips and metaphorical steam billowing from her ears. “Lettie, how do you stand this shit? She’s killing me here.”
Everyone laughs, especially Kri.
Apparently, she has been listening and is quite invested in the story.
Stella must enjoy irking her, because she waits a solid five seconds before continuing. “Around eleven that night, Tammy Smith was ready to leave. Only she couldn’t find her son, Timmy—one of the aforementioned hunks. She asked me if I’d seen him. Naturally, my lips were sealed since I’m the type who wouldn’t say shit if my mouth were full of it.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Tammy’s son is Timmy?” Freya asks, one side of her upper lip curled in a disbelieving cringe.
Nodding, I add, “Her other son is Tommy.”
Freya’s eye twitches. “Timmy, Tommy, and Tammy. Nice. What’s dad’s name?”
“Teddy,” Stella and I answer at the same time.
“I should have known.” Freya bows her head in a faux apology. “My bad. Continue, please.”
Stella spits out the rest. “Anyhow, Kim Wilson has always been sour at Kate for stealing her boyfriend in high school. For a little payback, Kim spilled the beans about where Timmy was and whom he was with. Tammy tore off, racin’ right up them stairs.” Stella slaps her hands, sending one sailing out in front of the other in a whoosh gesture. “The whole party stopped. Dead silence. Music off.” She clicks her tongue a few times, staring off into the distance. “First, we heard the banging on the door. Next came the hollerin’. Out of nowhere, Kate came bolting down the stairs—topless, except her bra and panties. Since her bottoms were around her ankles, she tripped on the last step and fell flat on her face. Fortunately, she wasn’t feelin’ no pain and jumped right up.”
“Good old fuzzy navels. Nature’s painkillers,” Marley mutters.
Meanwhile, Kri’s lost all semblance of patience for Stella’s dramatics. “Why was she twitching? For fuck’s sake. Must I put you in a submission hold?”
Stella laughs, smacking her palm on the table. “It’s not a threat if I like it, doll face.” Then she winks.
In an effort to save Kri from having to get physical with my bestie, I take over. “Enough with the theatrics. Here’s what happened. Tammy came running down the stairs after Kate, screaming every swear word I’ve ever heard and several she made up. Kate turned around, preparing to fight her off. Tammy pulled out her taser and shot Kate right in the hoochie coochie. Poor thing went down like a sack of spuds, then started twitching like a fish on a deck. There. Story done. Deal the cards.”
Laughter rings out through the room. Fairly certain the guards in the front yard are laughing too.
My sweet-as-a-peach bestie isn’t pleased with me stealing her thunder, judging by the arms crossed at her chest and the evil look on her face.
After a three-second stare down, she snaps. “You left out the best part.”
Marley claps, bouncing like she’s got ants in her pants. “Stella, please tell us the best part.”
Monotone and sarcastic, Kri drones, “Oh yes. Please, start at the beginning and don’t leave out a single detail. What were they wearing? What was everyone eating? Where did they go to preschool?”
“Since you insist.” Stella rubs her palms together, waiting for all eyes to fall back to her. “For those unfamiliar with railroad terms, the last stop on a train’s track is called the terminus. For all intents and purposes, trains eventually stop at a terminus. Everyone with me?”
She looks around and is met with eager nods. Even Kri is playing along.
“Excellent. Where were we? Oh yes. Tammy wasn’t the only one running down the stairs after Kate that night. Hot on her heels was Timmy and four of his friends. Four . All of them in various states of undress. That’s right. Kate was about to ride the choo choo with the entire Savannah State offensive line. Go Tigers. From that day on, Timmy’s mama was known as Terminus Tammy . Because she stopped the train.”
If the cacophony of laughter is anything to go by, Stella was right. That was the best part of the joke.
When everyone settles down, Stella adds with a chuckle. “Poor Kate and her twitchy cooter. The whole town was there that night to witness it.”
“Ah-ah,” I interrupt, holding up my index finger. “Not everyone.”
Stella rolls her eyes. “Fair. Kate didn’t invite her ex, Clifford.”
“The dirty dawg , ” Stella and I say in unison since that’s how he’s always mentioned. We cackle like a pair of hens.
Marley flaps her splayed palm down on the table to get our attention. “Is there a story for him too?”
“No, not at all,” Stella lies through a straight face.
Marley’s lower lip rolls into a dramatic pout over being denied the tale of Clifford the dirty dawg .
My throat tickles from all the laughing, so I take a gulp of water.
Stella acquiesces to Marley’s silent begging. “Fine. If you must know, Clifford the dirty dawg is known as Climax’s community dick. Everyone’s had a ride.”
Well, I never took him for a spin.
“ Offered a ride,” I insist through furious head shaking, amending her assertion.
However, in true Lettie style, I nearly choke to death on the water I’d forgotten I was drinking .
Perfect. Death by less than an ounce of fluid. Classic me.
Don’t drink and have girl time, y’all. You could drown. Take it from the ghost of Calamity Lettie.
With each cough and sputter, my ribs ache and sting like a band is cinched far too tight around me. Once I stop hacking like a cat with a hairball problem, all eyes are on me.
“You okay, kid?” Kri asks, bending in close.
“Yes, I’m fine,” I fib, staving off a grimace. I don’t want to draw attention to my pain and detract from the fun.
To hopefully throw them off my scent, I toss flippantly, “What are you guys looking at? Ain’t you ever seen someone choking on water? Stella Jean, I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept of choking on it. ”
Lifting one shoulder and crooking her head like she’s looking down on me, despite being at my height, Stella says, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. However, since you brought it up, I’ll have you know I never choke on it. No gag reflex. You could shove a Dodge Hemi down there.”
Freya leans in conspiratorially. “That’s impressive. We should let Jonesy know. Might help you seal the deal.” She faces Marley, playing it up. “Do you have his number? Get him on the horn.”
“Oh puh-lease.” Stella flips her hand. “I got fifty bucks and an orgasm that says there wouldn’t be enough meat to choke on. You know what they say about guys like him.”
I shake my head animatedly. “No. Uh-uh. I do not know. Please enlighten me.”
She puckers her lips and makes a show out of rolling her eyes. “Contrary to what you’d think, big dudes aren’t typically hung like horses.” She cricks her pinky finger. “More like horseflies. That’s why they work out so much. Overcompensation.”
Mentally, I sort through the hundreds of penises I’ve seen over the last year working at Bask. Stella has a solid point. Most of the guys with huge ones are skinny and lanky. Then again, James—I mean Tomer—is well-hung. While he’s not a gigantic dude like Jonesy, I’d say he’s above average body build. Maybe I got lucky.
About that one thing in life.
One bit of luck.
Aside from Freya and Stella, that is. But otherwise, my luck is shitty. Then there’s Tomer. A bright light shining through my dark cloud. Comforting me. Calming me. Saving me.
Loving me and all my issues.
Despite being ticked at him for whatever he’s been hiding, I sure miss the man. I hope he comes home soon.
Before I can grab my phone to look to see if he’s texted, I notice Freya waving her hand in my face. Stella is snapping her fingers at me.
I blink, somewhat confused. “What?”
“You totally zoned out. Were you just picturing your boyfriend’s dick?”
“No. I don’t think so. She smiles more when she does that.” Freya leans close to my face and peers into my eyes, as if she could see what I was envisioning. “She was picturing all the other dicks she’s seen.”
Marley giggles into her hand. “Which was it, Lettie? Many dicks or one dick?”
Opening my arms wide in both directions, I declare, “Option C. All the dicks.”
We all break out in cackles, which freaking hurts my damn ribs, so my hilarity dries up almost instantly.
Freya refills her and Stella’s wineglasses, polishing off their second bottle. Again she offers me a drink, and again, I decline.
Not much in the mood for booze, and I don’t think I will be for a while. Occasionally, I get glimpses from the club on the night I was drugged. Not full-on memories. Only tiny slices.
Me spilling my drink.
Laughing too loudly.
Feeling out of control.
Confused.
And then that smell.
His cologne.
My stomach sours, and my field of vision narrows. Need to get some fresh air.
Now.
Blinking rapidly, I look over my shoulder for Kri, reaching out for her since she’s only a few feet away. “Help me up, pretty please.”
She reaches for me with one hand, then switches to the other. Odd.
“Is this like the shell game? Which hand should I grab?” I joke, hoping to banish the horrid thoughts of that night from my mind before they fester.
“Sorry. It’s a force of habit to lead with my right hand. But I don’t trust that side too much yet.” She pulls me to my feet with her left hand.
Before I can ask Kri to elaborate, Freya whines from behind me. “Where are you going, Lettie? We aren’t finished playing.”
“Y’all can keep on. I’m done for a bit. Stella cheats anyhow.”
Before picking up the cards to resume dealing, the cheater sticks her tongue out at me, complete with mature farting noise. No extra charge for that.
As I mosey to the other side of the room to stretch my stiff joints, no one seems to notice my extra pain. I’d hate for them to pity me more than they already do.
Kri waves me over, and I join her in the kitchen.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Yep.”
She screws her face to one side. “Aww, it’s adorable how you think you can lie to me. Just precious.”
“Fine. I’m hurting. Too much laughing.”
“Bruised ribs?” she asks in a whisper.
“Yeah.”
“Wanna rest in bed? On the couch? Heating pad? Ice pack?”
I grip her forearm and meet her kind eyes. “No, please. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”
“Lettie, don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Minimize your pain to avoid inconveniencing other people. If you’re hurting, it’s okay to say so. Don’t pretend to be superhuman. Trust me. That doesn’t end well.” She tips her chin toward the girls in the living room. “They care about you and won’t think less of you for being human.”
I take a shaky breath, keeping it shallow to avoid further aggravating my ribs. They’d been hurting less until tonight with all the laughing and sitting on the floor. Probably not the best idea.
But it was nice to feel normal while it lasted.
“Okay. I’ll rest on the couch. Can you grab me an extra pillow from the bedroom?”
“Sure. Go get comfy. I’ll be right back.”
As I settle onto the couch, my squirrel brain runs through things that could go wrong while Tomer is out doing hot guy shit. He was vague with his plans, which suited me fine.
My inner delulu has made herself at home in our new apartment on Denial Street in the heart of Avoidanceville, population me.
Stella would murder me where I sit for letting Tomer slide the way I have. I can practically hear her now. Don’t make me jerk a knot in your tail, Lettie. You’re worth more than secrets and lies.
The thing is, I don’t disagree. Except she doesn’t get him the way I do.
Even with the recent revelations, I still know him.
His soul.
His pain.
And his tender heart.
He didn’t mean to hurt me. Intentions matter.
Kri tucks a pillow behind me and darts off again. A few seconds later, she joins me on the couch, handing me another glass of water and two ibuprofen.
I throw the pills back and wash them down. “Thank you for looking after me. Didn’t know bodyguards worried about medication schedules.”
She rolls her eyes. “No prob. I was given explicit instructions regarding your care.”
I lean close to her and whisper so the others don’t hear me. “Tomer’s always been protective. He’s extra worried about me lately. Don’t hold it against him.”
Her forehead wrinkles as her eyes widen. “I was there the other night and know you called him by another name. Tonight, when he briefed us, he said to refer to him as James in front of your company and gave no reasoning as to why. I assumed you didn’t know his real name.”
“I figured it out the other night. But they don’t know.” Keeping my volume low, I discreetly point my glass at my friends. “I’m not in a place emotionally where I can get into all that with them. Or with him, for that matter. I imagine they’d be furious on my behalf. Probably pressure me to leave him. I can’t do that; he’s the only thing keeping me sane.” I sigh, the exhaustion seeping into my bones. “It’s pathetic. I know. And now I’m oversharing. Sorry about that too.”
She refrains from commenting directly about my embarrassing rant. “How long have you guys been an item?”
“A year.”
She chokes on her water. Lot of that going around lately.
I tap her on the back. “You all right?”
Gulping air, she waves her open palm to call me off. “Fine.” Another cough. “Went down the wrong pipe.”
Out of nowhere, Stella springs to her feet and does a victory dance, complete with some type of Irish jig. Freya squeals in frustration and slams down her cards. Well, I tried to warn her that Stella’s a cheater.
“Potty break,” Stella announces, then scurries down the hall.
A pang of jealousy hits me in the gut. Imagine being able to just get up and go wherever you want without needing an escort. As normal as I’ve felt tonight, I’m still miles away from being in a room by myself without panicking.
As I swirl the water around my glass, it dawns on me that Kri has kept it full all evening. “My hydration is important to you, huh?”
She lets her face fall into her palms. “Oh my gosh. I’m sorry. You don’t have to drink that if you don’t want to.” She chuckles to herself. “Apparently, my boyfriend has conditioned me to care for people via beverage service.”
“Mind cluing me in?”
“It’s silly, really.” She fails to stave off a cheesy grin. “I was badly injured on the job a couple of months ago. After I got out of the hospital, Shep brought me to his house to help me recover. And he was compulsively bringing me water.”
That grin she was fighting returns, heading straight for sappy territory. No one smiles that way about a guy handing them water unless they’re in love.
“So he’s super into hydration. And you’re super into him, judging by the dopey look on your face,” I surmise.
“He read that drinking lots of water helps with brain elasticity, which is where I was injured in the attack.” She points to the back of her head, highlighting a scar partially hidden by her hairstyle.
My pulse accelerates. Was the comment she made about her right hand referring to her brain injury? What happened to her?
Before I can ask, she continues. “He didn’t even explain why he was doing it. He just kept bringing me water. I almost didn’t notice until it was too late.” Her gaze falls to her lap, and she shakes her head as if chastising her past self.
Reaching over, I pat her leg gently. “I’d say you realized it in the nick of time.”
She rolls her shoulders back and swiftly pivots the conversation before I get a question in. “I was wondering what you guys plan to do about the outliers. Have you talked to them yet?”
“The outliers?”
“Sorry. I mean the people who aren’t directly at risk but are by default.” She points her chin at my roommate. “Freya should be under protection, for starters.”
My breath clogs in my throat at the mere idea of her in danger because of me.
Why didn’t we think of this already? We’ve been too focused on all my issues.
Unaware I’m spiraling rapidly toward a full-blown panic, Kri piles on a bit more. “Since Stella has joined you, she’ll need someone to watch her six for a while too. By coming here, she’s put a target on her back.”
I hadn’t thought of that either. I’ve been so damn selfish.
“Is there a plan for them that you’re aware of?”
Fumbling for the words, I share what I know. “The apartment Freya and I share was outfitted with an upgraded security system. They also changed the locks.”
“Yeah, but she’s not home all the time.” She leans closer to whisper to me. “Do you think she would be open to having a guard?”
“Freya? I bet she would be after what happened to me. She’s levelheaded.”
“And the other one?”
I twist a few locks of my hair over my shoulder, fidgeting with the ends. “Stella might be a harder sell.”
“How long is she gonna be down here?”
“I’m not sure. She arrived this afternoon.”
“You should probably work on her the next few days if you’re up to it. Get her comfortable with the idea. And like you’ve experienced with Josh, guards don’t have to be physically beside you around the clock. We can linger in the background.”
Agreeing with her suggestion, I nod. “I’ll talk to them both.”
A little while later, Stella rejoins Marley and Freya, and their game resumes. My eyes keep drifting to my phone like they have a mind of their own.
Kri must notice my obsessive screen checking. “Relax, Lettie.”
My chest expands with a brisk inhale. “I’m trying. I wish I knew where he was and when he was coming back.”
She grabs her phone and taps across the screen, pulling up a map. “I can help with one of those things.”
“What’s that?” I ask, leaning over her shoulder without attempting to hide my nosiness.
“All Redleg personnel have GPS tags on their vehicles and equipment. The people we protect often have tags on their jewelry, clothing, shoes, and that sort of thing.” She wiggles the phone at me. “This app is how we can find them.”
“You put like... homing devices on the people you’re guarding?”
“Yeah.”
“Do they know about it?”
“Usually, yeah.” She frowns. “Unless we have reason to believe the client might not be agreeable to it or could tamper with it. But only if it’s imperative to their safety. It’s pretty rare for us to do that, though. Most people who hire Redleg do so because they need protection, so they’re eager to cooperate.” She purses her lips. “I’m surprised you didn’t have any on you when you were taken.”
My head kicks back, and dozens of thoughts fly through my mind.
If James—fucking shitass Tomer —has been so dead set on protecting me for so long, why didn’t he have tags on me?
He said he needed Mia’s help to find me, so that would imply I wasn’t tagged. If I had been, he could have found me sooner. Maybe before I was...
Stop it, Lettie. Don’t go there.
If I was tagged without my knowledge, would that be a good thing? It seems like an invasion of privacy. However, after what happened to me, I don’t know that I deserve privacy.
Kri continues her story, yanking my attention away from what could’ve been. “For example, Shep and I were protecting a teenage girl after her parents were murdered.” She shakes her head as if she’s trying to focus. Relatable. “Anyhow, we put trackers on her shoes, jewelry, purse, book bag, and that sort of thing without her knowledge. She was stubborn and insisted she didn’t need protection, which is ironic, considering she was eventually abducted by the people who killed her mother and father.”
Both of my hands fly to cup my mouth. “Oh my god. Is she okay? She must have been so scared.”
“At least I was with her when it happened. I was taken as well, but we got out safely. Shep and I are her foster parents now, and we’re trying to make it permanent.”
“Wait. You were both abducted?”
“Yeah.” She widens her eyes at me knowingly. “By the Russians.”
My heart jumps around like gangbusters. Everything this woman says piles on to my blooming panic.
I glance at the scar on her head. “Is that how you got hurt?”
“No. I was already on the mend by then. The head was from something else.”
“ Dang . You’ve had some bad luck.”
She looks contemplative, slanting her neck to the side and searching the ceiling. “On the contrary, I’m very lucky.”
“How do you figure?” I scoff. “Don’t get me wrong; I’m glad you have a positive outlook. Yet I’m struggling to see how you got there. You were severely injured on the job. After you healed, you and the girl you were protecting got abducted by the Russian mafia. That seems like a lot of bad luck.”
“The people who wanted her were going to come after her regardless. As awful as it was to be captured, we’re lucky I was with Val. And since it was during a time when I had a lot of doubts about my ability to ever return to full duty, it helped me realize that, while I’m not perfect by any means, I’m still capable and strong. And I’ll never give up on someone I’m protecting, someone I love, or myself.”
My eyes threaten to mist over, but I take a deep breath to stave off the tears. “And the brain injury? What’s the silver lining in that?”
Her response is only one word.
“Shep.”
And then she smiles.
So much for holding back those damn tears. Before tonight, I would have figured I had no more fluid in my body left to cry. But she poured so much friggin’ water down my throat, the faucets are flowing again.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you sad. I was hoping my misfortune could maybe help you cope. And I wanted you to know you’re not alone. Admittedly, I am not so great at bonding with other females. But I’m trying.”
I put my head down and wipe my tears. “Thank you. You’re doing fine. I appreciate you trying to help me. It did.”
It’ll take a while to sort through my thoughts about all that, but yeah... I see why she wanted me to hear her story.
“You’re welcome.” She looks back at her phone. “Now, let’s see where they are so you can rest easier.”
My pulse quickens as she swipes across the screen. Leaning over her shoulder, I look on as if I understand what I’m seeing.
Although I can tell it’s a map, I don’t know the street names around town all that well yet. I’ve only been here a year and mostly pay attention to landmarks.
She selects two names from the drop-down menu—Shepherd and Tomer.
When she clicks the find button, my heart and stomach swirl like the little locating icon, spinning in the center of the screen.
And there they are. Red blips on the map. They don’t appear to be side-by-side. Looks like a few blocks between them.
“Here they are,” she says triumphantly. “This one’s my guy. This one’s yours.”
“Is that supposed to be comforting?” I quip.
“Fair point. I’m not quite familiar with that area of town either.”
My teeth grind. “Then what good is it?”
She wobbles her head from side to side. “It gives us their GPS coordinates. We can send them messages. If we needed to send a drone in, we could do it through this. Lots of shit.” She shrugs. “I can also zoom in to see what’s in the area.” Her movements on the screen mimic the verbal explanation she’s providing. “If I click here, we’ll see the satellite imagery street view. It’s not real-time. This is sort of like the Google Earth version. Your boyfriend can access the live satellite imagery from HQ.”
“He can?”
We trade glances, and her smile is warm. “Yeah. He’s very talented at this shit. In fact, he built this app and most of the software we use at Redleg.”
My heart speeds up, not out of fear this time but pride.
“He’s that good, huh?”
“Well, yeah .” She sighs, then adds, “Between him and Mia—she’s new to the intel team—there’s not going to be much they can’t accomplish. I can’t imagine a more formidable duo.”
Last week, a statement like that would have sent me into a jealous rage. Tonight, it barely ruffles a feather.
She taps across the screen a few times, drawing my attention back to the phone. Despite it being nighttime, the street view images on her phone were taken in the daylight, so it’s easy to see the surrounding area.
She adjusts the view a few different ways until we’re able to see the front of the structure where Tomer’s beep is coming from.
When the image is suddenly all too familiar, a trap door opens inside me, and all my internal organs plummet to the ground.
“What the hell?” she mutters, then whips her head to face me. “Shit. I’m so sorry. I’m sure there’s a good reason for it. No need to panic. I’ll call them. Shep will answer for me. Just breathe. I’ll be right back.”
She’s especially jumpy for someone telling me to calm down.
Rising from the couch, she attempts to leave, but I clamp my hand onto hers.
My quivery breaths nearly lodge in the back of my throat because of how swollen it’s become. “Why are they there, Kri?”
She grits her teeth, making a clicking sound. “I don’t know. They were only supposed to go to the safe house where the informants are being held.”
“Informants?”
“Son of a bitch.” She forks her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t realize you were this in the dark. Shit. He’s gonna be so freaking pissed.”
“It’s okay. Talk to me. I can handle it,” I lie right through my teeth, hoping for once I’m convincing.
“They were supposed to be interrogating one of the men who used to bring victims in and his girlfriend. She was in the prep house. They’re both willing informants under Redleg’s protection at a safe location.”
“Tasha?”
“Yes.”
“The guys were supposed to talk to them tonight, and that’s all?”
Again, her answer is one word. “Yes.”
“How did they end up there?”
“Get dealt into the next hand while I make a phone call to figure out what they’re doing.”
Cards? I can’t concentrate on a damn game, knowing that he is standing in front of or inside the house where I was a prisoner for days.
What is he doing there ?