Page 33 of Exodus

“How is he these days, Jeremy?”

A pregnant pause. “I wouldn’t know, Cee.”

“Sure, you wouldn’t.”

A second later, I feel Jeremy beside me. I can’t look at him. I can’t let him see that his mere presence is weakening me. “We miss you, you know?”

“Do you?” I sip my coffee and swallow, unable to hide the bitter edge in my voice. “Nice suspenders.”

He thumbs them in my peripheral. “You know they’re my favorite.”

“Good to know you give a shit about something.”

“I do care about you.” His sigh comes out more like a grunt of frustration. I’m sure his boss is staring right at him, a clear threat just feet away. He’s tap-dancing between an apology for me and certain punishment. It doesn’t seem like any of them are brave enough to go head-to-head with this asshole.

“Don’t worry about me. You haven’t in eight months.”

“Come on,” he argues, “you know we couldn’t—”

“Want to know how I’m doing?” I turn my head and glare at him. “Well, you can relay to Sean I now know exactly what happens to caged birds.”

“We’re good,” Tobias snaps at Jeremy, his intent to end our exchange clear. “I’ll get with you later.”

Not long after, the alarm beeps and Russell’s voice sounds out from where he calls from the front door. “Hey, man, we have to open up in twenty. Mrs. Carter wants her shit checked out first thing this morning.”

He’s talking about the garage—a place I used to consider a second home. It’s unreal what time and distance can do. It now seems like a lifetime ago. It takes some effort to keep from turning the corner and laying eyes on Russell. But I don’t because he doesn’t seem the least bit interested in seeing me. Maybe it has everything to do with Tobias and his menacing presence.

But it doesn’t matter. These men aren’t my friends. They’re in on secrets I’m not privy to. Where once I belonged, now I’m just a liability.

“See you around, Cee,” Jeremy says from by my side, but I don’t look his way. I don’t utter a word. And I can feel his disappointment before he turns and leaves.

I turn up the TV to drown out any conversation with Tobias. I’m relieved when he busies himself on his laptop. A few minutes pass before he pauses his keys when the anchor speaks up with a breaking bulletin.

“Last night, a known terrorist leader was killed in a successful operation led by the US Military. Shortly after the news broke, the target was portrayed by a major media outlet as an ‘Austere Religious Scholar’ leaving some Americans outraged, who have started to voice their objections on social media—”

“Bullshit!”

“Bullshit!”

Our shared reaction has me turning to Tobias, who stands equally as perplexed on his side of the counter. He runs a hand down his face in frustration as I turn back and click off the TV. We stand in silence for a few seconds before he turns and tosses his coffee in the sink. “This is fucking terrible.”

“I agree; since when is it okay for reporters to humanize terror?”

“No, the coffee. You need a French press and a decent grind.”

Baffled, I stare at his back, his shirt a light blue, fitted perfectly to outline his broad frame.

“Well, you’ve spoiled your French tongue. I’m sure you had a plethora of tastes to choose from.”

He turns his head, before placing a palm on the counter and facing me with a cocked brow. “Are we still talking about coffee?”

“Of course, we are,” I snap, perplexed. “And at this point, I’m surprised you haven’t changed your address here for Prime Delivery.”

His light chuckle fills the kitchen. I wrap my hand around my waist as he scrutinizes me from where he stands.

“You truly do care about them.”

I inhale a breath for patience. “I told you a dozen times already. Our deal wasn’t even necessary. You’re the one who gave me the card to play. I would have kept my silence with or without our deal.”

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