Page 109 of Shattered Veil

Zoey looked at me hesitantly. “I’m allowed to react?”

I shrugged. “For a second, I guess. ’Cause I don’t want this to be weird and—”

“Not weird,” she immediately replied with a rapid shake of her head. “Not even a little weird. I—yes, happy, good, great. This is a secret at the moment?”

I nodded, letting out a sigh that conveyed the weight of her approval leaving my shoulders. “Liam,” I spoke my brother’s name with no other explanation for I didn’t think it was needed.

“Oh, him,” she remarked. “Yeah, I’ll have to buy him a casket once you tell him, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. I’m great. I…have about forty thousand questions for you, and we will circle back to those when it feels like shit isn’t in the process of hitting the fan.” She paused to blow out a quick breath through her mouth, and asked more seriously, “Main part of the story?”

I exhaled, “Thank you.”

She waved a hand in the air as if to say, ‘Nothing of it—go on.’

I told her, “Something’s up with James.”

“How so?”

“Well,” I began, “we talked on the phone this morning after he left, right?”

Zoey appeared to be biting the inside of her lower lip. “I have connected that puzzle piece, yes.”

“And he was fine.” I eyed the road ahead, knowing it would be the start of James’ commute to work, and got in the right-hand lane in preparation to turn. My blinker clicked away as I reiterated, “Totally fine.” I turned the wheel, and the clicking ceased. “Happy.”

“You’re making me want to ask all those questions that I said I wouldn’t, Cas,” Zoey said. “What’s the gist?”

“He got pulled over driving into work.”

“Señor-rule-follower got pulled over?” she returned with a smirk. “Why?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea ’cause he didn’t call me back.”

Zoey squinted. “’Kay.”

“So, I texted him, I dunno, two hours later.” I grabbed my phone that rested in the cup holder between us and blindly handed it to her. “Five-two-nine-seven,” I spoke my password without hesitation. “Look at our messages.”

She tapped on the screen several times, swiped down, and chuckled, “Ha—when did he ‘ducking ditch you,’ exactly? You sound pissed.”

“That one’s old, Zo’,” I admonished her referencing my first texts to James when he had rushed out of Henry’s with his friend, Brooks. “Scroll to today.”

“Not exactly hard. Y’all don’t text much,” she murmured.

“Don’t think Jay’s much of a texter,” I replied.

Zoey snorted. “Old fart.”

I rolled my eyes. “And we’ve been basically living in the same place since Colt showed up, anyway…there’s not much of a point to messagi—”

“I’m sorry, you’ve been what?!”

I snapped, “Messages, Zoey.”

“Fine, fine.” Reading quickly, she scoffed and muttered, “Grumpy old man—oop—come over another time?”

“Yuh huh.”

“Weird phrasing.”

“Exactly,” I returned. “That with his short-ass responses…I dunno, it made me nervous, so I checked his location.”

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