And as stated earlier, it was all for the greater good.
By the time he finds his keys, I’ll already be there, and this nightmare will be that much closer to being a thing of the past.
Ireallychucked them far into the bushes as I flew past the clubhouse. Probably the adrenaline rush since I’m about as talented at sports as I am at dieting—in other words, not at all.
My navigation system guides me to the pinned location Silas sent me after we spoke on the phone.
“Turn right at the third street ahead. Oh boy. We get to count to three.”
As we pass each street, the GPS voice counts along.
“One.”
“Two.”
“Oh goodie. Here is number three, and it’s time to turn right. Good job turning and counting. The destination is one hundred cookies ahead. I mean one hundred feet. Silly me.”
Despite the seriousness of the situation, I can’t suppress my chuckle. That’s a new description from my GPS. And I approve.
Speaking of cookies, I can’t believe Reed called me that stupid nickname from my childhood. Plus, he attempted to make it sexy. Perhaps he would’ve succeeded if I hadn’t been sweating bullets at the time.
And if he were someone other than himself.
Reed’s the gift that keeps on giving. Well, he would be if the gift were a pile of crap and the giving happened on a priceless rug.
I sweep my gaze around as I slow down the car, noting the minimal lighting in the parking lot. Because Silas didn’t tell mewhere exactly to park, I head to one of the only functioning lighting fixtures I can find. My heart jackhammers around in my chest.
“You have reached your destination. I’m so proud of you. Now we eat cookies to celebrate. Yum, yum, yum.”
Yes, my GPS is voiced by the Cookie Monster. I don’t care that I’m thirty-one years old. It’s perfectly fine to do things that spark joy, regardless of age. If you don’t like it, go live in a trash can with Oscar.
Shifting the car into park, I grab my phone to see if Silas sent any further instructions. I freaking hope he didn’t leave while I was ditching the dodo—not affiliated with the adorable animal internet videos.
No messages from Silas, butplentyfrom Reed. With some colorful language included at no additional charge.
Oh,and look at that. Four missed calls from him as well. Glad my phone goes todo not disturbwhen I’m driving, only allowing calls from my VIP contacts to ring through. And Reed will never be one of those.
Silas didn’t call or text either, which I already knew since he is still on my VIP contact list. But I had to check to be certain.
Although there are a few cars in the parking lot, they all seem to be empty. When nothing happens after a minute or two, I fire a text to Silas to let him know I’m here and waiting. Then I flip back to Reed’s text thread to peruse it.
Dirty Dimples:
Turn the car around, Lila. Get back here!
This is fucking bullshit. I can’t believe you did that. You’re gonna feel like shit about it later. But if you come back now, I’ll forgive you. And I’ll still help you.
Swear to fuck, Lila. You won’t be able to sit for a month after I find you.
Pick up the fucking phone! This is asinine.
I know you weren’t lying about Silas hurting you. It’s obvious you’re terrified of him. So why the hell are you going to meet him in the middle of the night alone? Are you trying to get yourself killed? What is happening with you? Why won’t you let me help you?
Fuck our past, Lila. We can’t change what happened. I want to help you now. Right fucking now.
Before you ditched me, you asked why I wanted to go with you. Truth is, it’s both of those things you mentioned. I want to protect you and stop you from getting in trouble with the law. If I bust some bad guys while I’m at it, even better.
It’s clear you’re wrapped up in something dangerous. And Kenzie’s disappearance is either a whole other mess or the same one. I want to help you, Lila.
