Page 8 of Journey

I pull out my cell and glance at the screen, groaning when I see our road captain’s name.

“What’s up, Screamer?” I say.

“This is the biggest code blue I’ve ever seen,” he grumbles. “Crow’s gonna owe us big for forcing us around this many cops.”

I stifle my laugh as I slip the key card in the slot when I reach my room. I agree with him, but as VP, I have to back ourpresident. “Crow won’t owe us shit. We protect our own, and Addi is one of us now.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Did you need something, or did you just call to bitch?”

“Both. Figured I’d get the bitchin’ outta the way, though.”

Chuckling, I flop down on the bed. “Thanks for that, I guess. Now, what?—”

“I had to make some changes to our route home and wanted to run them by you.”

“What’s wrong with the original plan?”

“Don’t tell me you missed all those construction signs warning about upcoming work,” he says. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to avoid that mess if possible.”

“Makes sense. Shoot me a screenshot of the new route you found, and I’ll let you know if it’s greenlit.”

“Thanks, brother. I know I could’ve called Crow, but he and Addi just left, and I figure they want to be left alone.”

“You figure right,” I say with a laugh. “Anything else?”

“Nah. I’ll get that over to you as soon as we disconnect.”

After ending the call, I get to my feet and carry my bag into the bathroom. I’m just stepping into the shower when my cell pings with a text notification. I know Screamer can be a bit impatient, so I quickly wash my hair and body.

When I step out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist before picking up my phone to look over the new route. Everything appears in order, and I tap out a quick text.

Me: Route is greenlit

Screamer: Thx bro

Once I’m dressed in a pair of sweats, I pull up the room service menu on my cell. Deciding on steak and a loaded bakedpotato, I place my order and turn on the TV to find something to watch. Settling on a Dateline marathon, I kick back on the bed and tap on the Facebook icon on my phone.

I type ‘Wren’ into the search bar, and numerous results appear. Scrolling through them, my stomach tightens with anticipation, but when I don’t see any picture I recognize, frustration settles in its place.

I’ve gotta find a way to get this chick out of my head before the conference starts tomorrow, or I’m gonna be useless to my club.

CHAPTER 4

WREN

I met someone.

“How was the drive here?”

I toss my purse onto the corner of the couch and sit facing Dr. Young, my therapist. She asks me the same question every session, but I suppose it’s a good ice breaker considering I drive an hour to Austin every week to meet with her.

“It was fine. Construction’s picking up,” I tell her. “Fortunately, I won’t hit rush hour traffic on the way back.”

“Good.” Dr. Young smiles. “So, anything exciting happen since we last met?”

Heat burns my cheek as I think about my night with Journey. “I met some—” I clamp my mouth shut as I shoot to my feet and begin to pace. “You’re never gonna believe it, Doc.”

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