Page 48 of Skewed

She’d put the phone on speaker again so I could hear.

The man on the end of the line paused, and then said, “So you figured out who I am?”

“Wasn’t so hard,” she replied.

“Yeah, well, you might be smart, but if you want to see your sister again, you’d better get a move on. You’ve still got another thirty minutes on this road before you turn off.”

“Then what?” she demanded.

“I’ll call you back.”

“No,” she said. “I keep losing cell phone coverage. What if I miss the turn?”

Tony the Hound—or possibly one of his goons, as we had no proof it was him speaking—gave further instruction. “Take the turn to Newbank, and we’ll meet you on that road.”

“How far along?”

“You don’t need to know that. You’ll know when you see us.”

“And then we swap,” she shouted. “Me for Nickie!”

But the line went dead. She was shouting at no one.

She propped her hands on the hood of the truck, slightly bent, her shoulders heaving as she composed herself. In the short time I’d known her, I’d seen her angry, but I’d never seen her cry. Even when she had every reason, her eyes remained dry. I wondered when the last time had been that she’d cried, and what had been the reason for her to stop.

This feeling… damn, this feeling. Why did she make me care, when I had never given a shit about anyone before?

I wanted to give her what she needed.

With renewed effort, I continued my search. More than ever, I was convinced I’d find a tracker on the truck. He knew we’d stopped, and the roads had been clear when we had. No one had followed us. I checked the outside of the vehicle, but still found nothing. In frustration, I yanked open the door and started to search beneath the seats and carpets. Nothing. My hands ran along the upholstery of the seats and then up to the headrests. I felt along the backs of the headrests—the driver and passenger seat—and then moved to the back seats. My fingertips touched frayed fabric and the shape of a small box underneath.

My heart lifted in triumph.

“Got it!” I called out.

Vee left the hood and hurried over to me. “Oh, my God.”

I worked the tracker free with my fingers and held the box out to her. “This is what we’ve been looking for.”

She shook her head. “Fucking Johnny. That’ll teach me to let my guard down, even for a second.”

I felt a pang in my chest. I didn’t want her to put me in the same box, but what did I expect? It wasn’t as though I’d done anything to make her think any different. I wasn’t exactly a fucking superhero.

I spotted a group of young guys coming out of the restaurant, wearing football shirts, shoving each other and laughing. They were absorbed in themselves and each other, focused only on what people might think of them, how hot and tough they looked, and if there were any girls around who might catch their eye. One of them noticed Vee, and he nudged his buddy. That simple gesture made up my mind.

As they climbed into their car—some expensive Audi I imagined one of their parents had bought for their eighteenth—I ducked low and ran toward them, ignoring the pain in my leg. Before the car pulled away, I reached out and slammed my hand against the trunk, the magnetic part of the tracker sticking to the metal. I was worried I hadn’t done enough and it would fall off, but it stayed on as they drove out of the parking lot and took the direction we were headed.

I turned back to Vee. “That should confuse Tony for a while.”

She was giving me that look, as though she didn’t know if she should hug me or hit me. “What if Tony realizes we’ve tricked him? What if he kills Nickie just to pay me back? You know he’s capable of it.”

“We’ll get to her before Tony realizes anything is wrong.”

“I don’t know …”

I could see the worry in her dark eyes. “You have to trust me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

---