29 Space Oddity #2
“I haven’t seen a single picture of you online, Zo.
And not a single rumor about Mom or G-Lo on the internet or in any of the grocery store tabloids.
Trust me, with you gallivanting all over the country, I’ve searched your name multiple times a day to make sure you weren’t lying in a morgue in the middle of bum-frigging Egypt.
I would’ve known if there was even a whisper of a story about you out there. ”
I let out a heavy sigh. “Doesn’t mean the pictures aren’t floating around out there ... just waiting for the worst possible moment to show up on my social media feed.”
“Did you ever stop to think maybe he was telling the truth?”
“What happened to ‘he could totally be a serial killer, ditch him before you end up as a statistic’?” I do my best Jeanie impression.
“I know.” She groans. “I did say that. But hear me out. If he was going to kill you, he would’ve done it in the middle of the forest and blamed it on the bear.”
“No. He slept with me instead so he could sell me out to the tabloids.”
The silence stretches between us, and I keep waiting for a snarky response that never comes.
“How can you be sure he was the one who sent the reporters?” My sister poses the question as if challenging me to a freaking duel.
Since when did Jeanie climb on the Dash Hammond bandwagon? And why am I so damned desperate to join her there?
I heave out a breath, but it does nothing to release the tension holding my muscles hostage. “The fact that anyone knew we’d be there at all means someone told them.”
“But he denied it, right?”
“So?”
“So maybe he was actually telling the truth!” she insists.
For several long seconds, I stare at her name on my phone display, almost convincing myself I answered a wrong number. No such luck. My sister has simply lost her ever-loving mind.
“Jeanie, we were swarmed by reporters shouting my name and asking things no random stranger could’ve possibly known.” I drag my lower lip through my teeth, still tasting him there nearly two days later. “Would you have given him the benefit of the doubt?”
“I don’t know.” She lets out a long sigh. “But the more I think about it, the less sense it makes. He already had your trust. You’d already told him everything. So why risk losing the exclusive by blabbing to anyone else?”
Swirls of doubt float through my vision like black smoke, clouding my thoughts. “He didn’t want me to know he was selling me out?”
“And how well did that work out for him?” I can almost hear her arched eyebrow. “You really just hopped on a bus and left him there?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s some stone-cold shit, little sis.”
I groan and shift in my seat. “Why are you suddenly trying to convince me Dash is a good guy?”
“Because not one of those pictures showed up online or anywhere else. And if a guy’s gonna go to that much trouble to sell you out, he’s not doing it for nothing.”
A nagging wisp of doubt spirals around me, gripping my throat until my voice comes out in a faint whisper. “It’s only been a few days.”
“Be real, Zo. It takes less than thirty seconds to post a picture on social media.”
“Maybe.” A flash of something resembling hope punches me in the gut, and it takes me a whole second to catch my breath. “Or maybe they’re waiting to drop a bomb.”
“Zoey, listen—”
“You’re wasting your breath.” I refuse to get sucked into Jeanie’s unsubstantiated theories and allow the hairline cracks in my heart to split wide open.
Jeanie growls. “You can be so stupid sometimes.”
“I’m not stupid!” Her words sting, but I refuse to let her hurt my feelings. She just doesn’t get it.
“You really jumped off a train trestle?”
“I really did.” My lips curve into a smile. “Are you bummed you didn’t come? We could’ve jumped together.”
“Screw that!” She laughs. “I’ve had my fill of falling from heights for the rest of my damn life.”
“You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“Oh, I do.” Her tone softens. “But it’s okay. This was your turn to be first.”
“Thank you,” I murmur. “For letting me go.”
“Don’t mention it, sis. So where to next?”
“My next official destination is Santa Monica. I’ll probably stop somewhere to sleep, but other than that, I’m driving straight through.”
“That’s one hell of a long haul. You can’t tell me Mom and G-Lo didn’t stop anywhere between Kansas and California.”
“They did the typical touristy stuff: Dodge City, Santa Fe, Flagstaff, Barstow. Nowhere worth revisiting as far as I’m concerned. It’s not like I’m planning to spread her ashes in any of those places.”
“Did you say Flagstaff?” Jeanie’s voice vibrates with excitement.
“Yeah, why?”
“I was flipping through G-Lo’s Groupie magazine, and apparently there’s some big Bowie tribute concert in Flagstaff Saturday night.”
“That’s like”—I check the date on my phone—“tomorrow night, Jeanie.”
“I know. You should totally go.”
“Even if I could somehow make it on time, I don’t have—” Before I get the word tickets out of my mouth, I remember G-Lo’s press pass buried somewhere under fast-food wrappers in the back seat. In the span of a few seconds, a really bad idea begins to take shape. “I think I have a plan.”