Silence. Her breath catches slightly. “Know what?”
I hesitate. Because this means admitting to her that I did something that I’m sure she’ll think is insanely dangerous. “They know someone got inside. Into one of their locations.”
Her eyes widen slightly. “And they think it’s you?” she asks.
“No,” I reply. “Worse.”
Her stomach drops, I see it.
“They think it’s connected to you,” I continue. “Your neighborhood. Your calls. You’ve seen too much.”
Understanding hits her fast. “They’re watching me,” she says, her voice going hollow.
I nod. “Yeah.”
A half of a second of silence passes. Then she moves, with no argument or hesitation. Just action. She turns heading for her room, already grabbing a bag.
Good.
I follow, my gaze sweeping the apartment again. The curtains are open; it’s too exposed, too easy.
“I’m taking you somewhere secure,” I say. “My dad’s place. It’s got a full security system and controlled access.”
She glances back at me from in her bedroom. “Your dad’s?” she asks.
“Yeah.”
“Not just… your apartment?”
As much as I’d love to show her my place, Dad has much better security. “Dad’s is safer.”
I can see her turning it over in her mind. Finally, she says, “okay.”
Chapter 31
Liv
“Okay, okay, what am I missing?” I’m moving too fast; I know I am. I’ve got drawers open with clothes half folded sticking out of them and half-stuffed into the gym bag I kept after deciding I was going to start going to the gym regularly two years ago but never followed through with. My hands won’t stop shaking long enough to do anything properly, so I stop trying to do it properly. Just fast.
I can keep trying to shove away the thought that there’s people who’ve set their eyes on turning me into one of those trafficking victims, force-intubated while conscious, and being raped by some sick freak. I just need to focus on clothes, just clothes. Focus, make outfits. But, ugh! How many work clothes? What about pajamas?
Just stuff work clothes in the bag and wing it with everything else. Wait, that’s stupid. That’s a surefire way to run out of clean underwear in a day.
“Liv.” His voice cuts through the noise in my head. It’s low and deceptively steady. I’m sure of that because I saw the way his eyes were filled with fear when he stood at my door and told me we needed to escape.
I don’t turn. “I’ve got it,” I say quickly, grabbing a handful of uniforms and shoving them into the bag. “I just need… like… five minutes, I just-”
“You’re packing like you’re not coming back.”
The worry in his voice makes me pause. Just for a second, I look down at the bag, at the way I’ve filled it. Then I force my breath out and shake my head. “I don’t know what I need,” I admit. “I don’t know how long-”
“I’ve got you,” he says with certainty.
I nod once, the movement so small that I’m not sure he could even see it. “Right, okay.”
I move again, slower this time, and more deliberately. Clothes, toiletries, phone charger… my brain starts ticking through the basics like I’m prepping for a long shift instead of… whatever this is. Whatever this just became.
I hear him moving in the living room, not rushed or frantic like I’ve been. It’s so at odds with the way my pulse is racing that it almost makes me laugh.
