“What are we going to do?” Fear didn’t cling as strongly to her words.
“No fucking clue.” He rubbed his hand over his jaw, the prickle of whiskers reminding him how out of his depth he was. “What’s your plan?”
“Still working on it.” She’d taken the second chair. Drawing her feet up, she wrapped her arms around her knees. She looked so small. Was she trying to appeal to his protective instincts or was this the effect she had on him?
“Two heads are better than one.” He tried to lighten the mood.
Not even a smile.
He didn’t know how to do this, how to break the awkward silence. They weren’t friends or lovers. Just two strangers bound together by an awful moment and an amazing kiss. What did you say in that situation?
“How’d you find this place?” He asked the question that had plagued him since he tracked the motorcycle.
Her eyes widened.
Fuck. That was obviously the wrong question.
Stretching out his leg, he hooked his toe under her seat and swiveled her until she faced him.
She met his gaze. “How did you know to break me out of the cell?” she countered.
Killian stared at her, processing her question. What did that have to do with his question? “I got a phone call,” he told her, curious what she’d do with the information.
“Anonymous?”
He nodded. “Beyond anonymous. Completely blocked.”
“Me too.”
“Anonymous call?”
She bobbed her head yes–no. “Not exactly. Anonymous…text.”
“You have your phone?” There hadn’t been one in the clothes he’d collected during her bath. And he hadn’t thought to have Elsa get her a replacement.
She shook her head. “It’s back at headquarters. I think.”
“You’re lying.” She couldn’t get a text without a phone.
“No, I’m not. He…” She paused, lacing her fingers tight enough over her knees to whiten her knuckles.
“Don’t do that. You’ll cut yourself.” Oh my god. Where hadthatcome from?
Dizzie gave him a funny look, then dropped her feet and pushed out of the chair. She paced the room in small circles, her nails clicking together as she moved. Each time she passed him, she slowed and studied him. Then she was off to make another circuit.
He watched patiently, letting the silence stretch between them. Inside, he was dying to know what was so terrible she had to build up to telling him.
Finally, after a dozen laps, she stopped in front of him. Her hands dropped to her sides. Whatever she’d decided, she looked less stressed.
“Hehackedintomyimplants.”
Okay, maybe not.
“What?” He tried to parse out the words. Someone had…hackedinto her implants? That didn’t make any sense. How could someone do that to fingernails?
Standing between his outstretched legs, she didn’t meet his eyes. “After I left your house last night, someone—guy, girl, I don’t know!—hacked into my implants. Told me that the newsies were watching your place.”
“Too bad that warning didn’t come a bit sooner.” Whoops. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
