My phone stopped vibrating.
“That’s not giving me much info,” I pointed out.
“One person in my whole life.”
I didn’t want to feel sorry for the guy, but one person?
That sucked.
My phone started vibrating again.
Shit!
Who was calling me this early?
“And they’ve got her,” he finished.
Uh-oh!
Obviously, I ignored the phone again.
“Who’s got her?” I asked.
He jumped and looked beyond me.
I was not about to be taken in by that kind of crap, him conning me into looking over my shoulder then pouncing on me, so I stayed on target, my attention glued to him.
I watched him relax and only then did it occur to me how jittery he was, considering I’d heard a car pass too. But The Surf Club was on Indian School Road, one of the many busy city streets in Phoenix. Therefore, no matter how early it was, there were going to be cars.
“Ignore the traffic and keep talking,” I urged.
“They want me to—” he cut himself off when another car passed and he looked to the entrance drive to SC.
“Dude, stay on target,” I advised.
He turned back to me. “They said they’re watching me.”
Great.
“Did they follow you here?” I asked.
“I don’t think so.”
I hoped he was right, for both of our sakes.
“Then hurry with your story,” I urged.
“I…can I pull out my phone?” he requested.
“Sure,” I replied. “Just go slow.”
He started to reach to his back pocket, froze for a nanosecond, before his gaze shot to the entrance, then he turned and sprinted away.
What the…?
Since he was racing away, I thought it was safe to twist, and I saw lights from a car flash through the lot.
I whirled full body, only to see a black Denali angling in.
