“I just—I like this,” he said. “Being here, being with you, being—”
“Just being.” I gave him another kiss. I understood where he was coming from, and I supposed he wasn’t lying, he was just not telling me things I needed to know. “Well, it’s important we put your...thingto rest before we continue justbeing.”
He nodded, still giving me that submissive innocent look—and it fucking worked, like an absolute charm. He was a snake charmer, and I was the snake, just mesmerized by anything he had to say. “I was going to tell you,” he repeated. “I promise.”
“I know, I just hate hearing things from someone else.” I kissed him again. I couldn’t get enough of kissing him, and the warm sensation of his skin on my lips. “Make it up to me by prepping the veg and putting a large pan with water on to boil.”
“Okay,” he said, kissing me.
Before he left we clinked beer bottles. This was everything my life felt like it had been missing. I’d never been able to put my finger on it, but this feeling... I was content, happy, hopeful for the future. Those were all things I thought I’d felt before, but apparently I hadn’t.
I’d been smoking and practicing on all different meats. Today’s meat of choice was brisket. It was a lot of meat. And I needed the protein, especially after cutting wood all day. Ezra needed it for his obsession with the bike we’d got. It was usually paired with carrots, potatoes, whatever I’d seen on the internet aboutperfect side dish for your—and whatever meat I was smoking.
We sat and ate. We had the perfect little life set up here.
Then the phone rang. It was a wired phone on the wall. I hadn’t touched it. I’d barely even acknowledged it. It was mostly there as a relic of the past. But it worked, and it rang.
Ezra looked at me, the tender meat dripping off his fork. “Who is that?” he asked.
“I’m debating whether or not to find out,” I said.
There were only a handful of people who would call, and spam callers were at the top of the list. The idea that if it was important, they’d call again crossed my mind, but the shrill ring of the phone sent a knife through me. I had to get it—or throw it through the window.
The phone was on the wall in the hallway with a view of the open-plan living area. I picked it up and placed it to my ear.
“You haven’t checked in and your legal team isn’t giving us anything.” The female voice spoke first.
Roughing up my voice, I said, “Sorry, who is this?”
“Let’s not play. This isn’t a secure line. You haven’t checked in. You know who I am. I know who you are.”
“You’ve fucked this,” I grumbled.
Ezra dropped his fork with a clatter, rushing to my side, wanting to know what was going on.
“Your face is about to be printed in all the major papers,” she said. “Get somewhere safe. They’re really trying to find you.”
I hung up and turned to Ezra. “We gotta go.”
His shoulders sank. “Really?”
“They’re running the article. They’re going to start the manhunt.”
“So, what does that mean?”
“I have friends who owe me,” I told him, already scanning the room.
“I got us tickets to watch the Sugar Bay Sharks.”
My focus was completely lost with that single sentence. “Huh? There aren’t any sharks in Vermont.”
“They’re an ice hockey team,” he said. “They’re in the amateur league or something, but they recruited an NHL player and the town is going crazy over it.”
I scratched at my forehead, trying to think. “When?”
“Tonight,” he said.
“And you were—”
