“We’renotfriends,” Walker reminded him again. “I don’t have friends. What’s this meeting all about, anyway?”
“You’ll see,” Tris said cryptically.
Walker opened one of the storage compartments and dug through a stack of neatly folded clothes.
“We won’t make it to the site until tomorrow afternoon, and we’ll have to make a few stops along the way for…obvious reasons.”
They needed to dispose of the body in the woods along the way, similar to the way Early got rid of his victims.
There was a long pause.
“We?”
Walker frowned. “What?”
“You said ‘we,’” Tris said excitedly.
There was another gasp, followed by a muffled thump and what sounded suspiciously like Cade swearing under his breath.
“Oh, my God. Are you keeping him?”
“Keeping who?” Walker said, digging his palm deeper into his eye socket.
“Him. The kid, the one who almost…you know,” Tris said.
“Why are we censoring ourselves when we’re on a secure line?” Walker asked.
“It never hurts to be overly cautious. And don’t change the subject. Did you find your swan?”
“My what?”
“The poor little creature that imprints on you like a swan does its mother?” Tris explained.
Walker sighed. He found a shirt Kota wouldn’t be swimming in, then stood there staring at it for several seconds as he processed the fact that this conversation was actually happening. The kid had been in his life less than twelve hours, and somehow, Tris had already decided he’d adopted him.
“Hah, I knew it. I totally knew it. Told you,” he shouted to someone. Probably Cade.
“I didn’t say any of that,” Walker muttered. Which was technically true.
Unfortunately, he’d also never corrected him.
“You didn’t have to. I’m very intuitive. Right, honey?”
“Yes, mouse, you’re practically psychic,” Cade said, sounding much closer than a moment ago.
Close enough that Walker was forced to assume whatever “exercise” they’d been doing had resumed.
“Can we finish what we started before this completely unnecessary phone call?”
There were very obvious kissing noises coming through the speaker now. Walker grimaced. Tris laughed. Then laughed again for no apparent reason. At this point, Walker wasn’t entirely convinced Tris needed a reason to laugh.
“I’m gonna go.”
“See you tomorrow night,” Cade muttered. “Say goodbye, mouse.”
“Bye, mouse,” Tris gasped. “I’ll pin the location.”
Walker closed his eyes. There was a brief rustle, a startled yelp from Tris, and Cade saying something too muffled to make out. Walker decided he did not want clarification. Then the line went dead.
