Page 139 of Slaughter

“Presleigh!” she interrupts me. “What the fuck, bitch? Where the hell have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”

“I’m in Vancouver.” I finally found this out last night when I spoke to Chloe. She seems to be the only person willing to tell me anything.

“What? No way.” She pauses. “You don’t even have a passport.”

If only that is all it would have taken to keep me out of Canada. “Long story.”

“When are you coming home?” she asks, and I feel my chest tighten. Home? I’m not sure I can consider that place I hid a home anymore.

“We’re about to takeoff.”

“Takeoff?” she asks confused. “As in take off in a plane?”

“Yeah.” I begin to chew on the end of my nails.

“Presleigh, are you high?”

“No.”

“Did you smoke some PCP again?” she asks concerned. “You know that shit is bad for you.”

“I’m sober.” Then I think of the drink Avery just gave me and the next three I’m about to have. “For now, anyway.”

She sighs heavily. “Where are you flying into? I’ll meet you there.”

I look around the spacious and expensive air craft. “I’m not sure. I’m on a private jet … I don’t think it’s going to land at JFK …”

“Frankford,” Chloe says.

“What?” I ask, looking at her.

“I overheard Tristan telling one of his men we are flying into Frankford. It’s a private airfield.”

I nod and mouth a thank you. “Frankford.”

“Where the hell is that?” Alex asks.

“I don’t know. You’ll have to Google it.” I smile even though I feel the plane start to taxi, and my heart race. “Don’t tell anyone I’m in town. Okay?”

“Presleigh. Everyone has been worried sick about you.”

“Please, Alex?” I beg. “Just keep it a secret. I’ll …” I take a deep breath when the plane picks up speed. “I’ll explain everything when I get there. Just come alone and don’t tell anyone.”

She sighs but finally agrees. “Fine.”

I smile. “I’ll see you soon …”

The phone is ripped out of my hand, and my head snaps up to see Avery standing beside us. Chloe’s phone is now in his hand, and he terminates my call. “Hey!”

“Who the hell were you speaking to?” he demands.

“Alex …”

“Where the hell did you get this?” He holds up the phone gripped in his hand.

“It’s mine,” Chloe answers, snapping at him.

Tristan plops down beside her. “Why the hell would you give her a phone? She’s not allowed to talk to anyone.”

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