He makes a sound like he’s blowing me off.
“Fine, we get it,” Hudson says, taking over. “No more setting up. We’ll let you do your own thing.”
“Thank you.”
I ignore the way Hart sneers at us both.
Then, because I don’t want to draw more attention to myself, I pull out the utensils and check them over as I casually ask, “Did you pass on my message to Ziggy?”
“Yep.”
“What did he say?”
Hudson’s laugh is bitter. “Since when does he ever say anything?”
“He says a lot. You just have to pay attention.”
“Uh-huh. Right. Well, we told him you wouldn’t be back, and then he just awkwardly walked off. I assume he’ll be here tomorrow.”
I freeze. “You told him what?”
“That you had a visitor.”
I slowly turn to Hudson, anger rolling in my gut. “That’s not what I said.”
“It’s close enough.”
“How ishe has a visitoranything like what I told you?” My blood is bubbling hotter as it occurs to me that Ziggy didn’t get my message. Not the one that was meant for him. That I very specifically wordedforhim.
This is not how I wanted my day to go. I’ll make it up to you.
“Why does it matter?” Hart snaps. “You guys got everything you needed done, and he had an early mark.”
“Keys.”
He blinks up at me.
“Give me the goddamn keys.”
I could kick them. Or myself. All I know is that while I was out here with Caroline, Ziggy probably thought I was blowing him off. With any luck, I’ll get to his place and he’ll be fine and think I’m ridiculous for worrying.
Worst case, he’ll think I did what I swore I’d never do.
Forget about him.
No one who knows Ziggy could ever do that.
Sunset is close to kicking in as I snatch the keys from Hartwell and storm toward the car.
My gut is twisted tight, and every minute it takes to get to him feels like forever.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
ZIGGY
Fourteen years ago.
