Chapter Fourteen #3
“There are no dead bodies here, Max.” I look up at his words, expecting a smile, but he’s frowning deeply.
“I want to explain everything to you, but if I do, there’s no unknowing it.
I can’t take it back, and I can’t tell you and let you get back in that car with Louis.
I need you to give me a chance to explain.
If I’m going to tell you, then you have to get on that plane with me.
It can fly you back as soon as we land, if that’s what you want.
I’ll tell them… I don’t know. That you’re my business associate.
But there are rules. And you have to agree to the rules before I tell them to you. ”
“Is this a joke?” I look at him incredulously. “I was kidding about the FBI thing, Cal, but you’re kinda freaking me out.”
He has rolled up his sleeves as he lifts the bottom of the trunk.
Wait.
He lifts the bottom of the trunk?
I look closer at a blank screen sitting underneath the felt of what should have been the bottom of the trunk.
His hand lies flat on the screen and red lines trace the edges of his palm.
The lines all flash green and the whole area slowly opens to another compartment below.
Needles climb up my spine as he sets his coat, cuff links and tie on one side, followed by both of the phones he had used earlier, his wallet, and his keys in a separate box.
I can feel his eyes on me while my eyes grow wider as I assess every part of this situation.
There’s a safe in this trunk. There’s a private plane to my left. And a driver. And Cal.
“You can get back in the car with Louis, and he can take you back to the office. Or you can put your phone in the box and get on the plane with me, but I have,” he glances at his watch. “About sixty seconds before I have to be on that plane or we are going to miss our window for takeoff.”
My mind is spinning.
What the fuck is going on? This is Callan and he is acting like a super spy or a criminal. A private plane? A car safe? My phone?
The devil advocates on my shoulder, But what have I done that’s exciting in years?
I can stay in this little town and run into Patrick every day at work and go home to Becca and Bart and have China House for dinner again for the fifth weekend in a row.
And I can wait for him and hope he comes back.
But that isn’t an option. I can’t stay behind again and hope he comes back. I have to know where he’s going and that he will be back. Maybe this is a bad choice. But it’s Cal.
My mind races but none of the thoughts matter.
Because I’m going. My mind already knows that, but my body is trying to catch up.
I shiver, and my hand reaches inside my jacket pocket, gripping my phone.
He reaches back into the trunk, pulling out a different wallet and another phone before sliding them in his front pockets.
“Forty seconds, Max.” He walks around the side of the car, holding his eyes with mine and reaches in, grabbing a black backpack and sliding it up his shoulder. He shuts the car door and walks back to the trunk.
Expletives fly through my mind at the speed of light.
He stares at me, searching my eyes for an answer.
“It’s okay, Max,” his hand finds my cheek, his thumb running down, his fingers tracing the line of my neck, leaving the nerve endings there on fire. “I promise I’ll try to come back faster this time.”
“What do you mean ‘faster this time’?”
My words come out in a squeak. He reaches into the trunk and types in a code on a keypad, another smaller box pops open, but he doesn’t open it all the way. He gestures back at the SUV.
“Louis can take you back to the office, I’ll try to explain more when I’m back, okay?”
I look back at the SUV, pausing for a beat on the outline of Louis, when I look back, Callan is putting something in his back pocket. He throws the wallet and phones inside the locked box, moving to close it.
“Oh, fuck it.”
My mind and body connect, leaving indecision behind and he glances up at me.
I rip my phone from my pocket, open my texts and shoot off a text to Becca.
Unexpected confidential work trip out of town. Won’t have service but will call to check in when I can. Please take care of Bart. Love you!
That feels normal, right?
Then, I toss my phone into the box next to both of his and stare him dead in the eye. I stand up straighter and feign confidence.
“I swear to God, Callan Reed, if you’re a super spy and have waited this long to tell me, you’ll be the first dead body around here.”
This earns me a smirk, which thaws the ice that has been creeping through me. He shuts all the secret boxes in the trunk compartment, followed by the trunk itself before letting out an incredulous laugh.
“Alright. Uh, rule number one.”
He turns towards the plane, we start walking, ascending the stairs, and the sound of the plane engine roaring to life startles me.
“You don’t have a last name, Max,” he yells over the sound of the engine, standing at the top of the staircase to face me one step below him. “In fact, you don’t have a first name either.”
Oh fuck.