Page 47 of Alpha Bait

"Ames!"

He jogged over to me.

"What is it?"

"Rich. He sent me a text."

I showed him the phone and when he read the number, his face turned pale.

"Shit," he muttered.

"What's going on?"

"Rich needs me at 64th. Something must be wrong. I've paid the driver. Lay low for a while, Indie."

"Okay."

My chest twisted into knots. Rich's text and his brother's reaction both struck me as odd. Ames opened the trunk and thrust my bag into the back, sending me off in the backseat of the town car as he moved closer to Richard and I moved further away.

I pressed my head against the glass. I'd asked the driver to take me back to my apartment, but I wasn't sure I could bring myself to return yet. I had prepared to leave Manhattan possibly forever. Now I returned to the churning belly of the beast. Traffic thickened and I leaned forward to ask the driver to change the station.

My phone buzzed. Richard.

"Rich?"

"Are you safe?"

"Yes..."

"Good. I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what?"

"Can't talk now. Be careful, Indie."

"Careful of what?"

The line went silent and I sighed.

"Do you have Mariah Carey?" I asked the driver.

He nodded and flicked the station. I sighed and leaned back against the leather seats. Freedom would have to wait.

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