Call me.
Me:
Unless you’re in danger, I can’t talk now. I’m working.
Are you with Lila?
Where is she?
She’s usually home by now.
At that point, I replied, saying Lila was at work, stressing again that I can’t talk now because I’m also working.
Kenzie:
Is she coming home tonight?
Why isn’t she answering my texts?
Is she mad at me or something?
She never ignores my calls. Are you poisoning her against me?
Yeah, right. I don’t need to poison Lila against her. Kenzie does just fine with that on her own.
Since it clearly wasn’t an emergency, I stopped reading the texts at that point.
And then the phone calls came.
Taking a call would’ve pulled my focus away and put Lila’s safety at risk. As it was, the texts were a huge fucking distraction.
The sledgehammer of dread pounds away at my skull. The whacks have gotten more aggressive with each buzz of my phone. Initially, I was worried she was in danger or some type of crisis, but her texts told me it was just Classic Kenzie behavior.
Even still, she’s already been through a lot. And I need to talk to her about it.
Just not right now, dammit.
As it is, I’m on the edge of my seat waiting for Agent Carson to transfer my cookie back to my custody. Technically, I’m in a grocery store parking lot for the planned meetup. But whatever.
I need to keep my eyes peeled for danger before they arrive. So far, practically everything has gone off without a hitch. I won’t drop the ball now because Kenzie thinks the fucking world revolves around her.
After listening to the tense exchange from the break room, Lila’s got to be a wreck. Her body language for the remainderof her shift was that old plastic version I used to despise. Like a faintly smiling robot.
Dana’s words had to cut her deep. I want to wrap her in my arms and tell her how damn good she did. That I’m so fucking proud of her. And that she has no reason to feel guilty.
Fuck that. This isn’t a want. Ineedto hold her.
Once she’s safe with me, I’ll deal with Kenzie. They’re called priorities. And mine are cast in stone.
Headlights in the distance creep closer. I keep my head on a swivel. So far, all’s clear.
As Carson and Lila come into focus at the entrance to the parking lot, I exhale some of my necessary anxiety.
I’m reminded of something my instructor at Quantico used to say.
If you ever find yourself totally relaxed when in the field, you’ve already lost the game. That fear will keep your senses sharp. Harness it. Channel it.
Approaching the car swiftly, I make a beeline for my girl and open the passenger door. When Lila doesn’t do it herself, I reach inside to unlock her seatbelt. Her scent invades my lungs, smoothing over my frazzled nerves.
