Page 169 of Fake Game

Hope coils in my chest. “Really?”

“Yes.” She smiles as she snatches her purse from the island. Her heels clack on the tiles as she beelines for the elevator. “I have to go meet with the prosecutor and then head to the airport. He was in Wyoming.” She presses on the elevator panel, and the doors open.

“How’d he slip up?” Parker calls out.

“He didn’t; it was an anonymous tip. I’ll call later,” she shouts back as the doors close.

The boys and I turn to stare at the woman who never once flinched during that exchange and has proceeded to take first place in the round.

“What?” Phoebe doesn’t take her eyes off the screen.

“Anonymous tip?” The insinuation in Parker’s voice is clear.

“It wasn’t me.”

“Okay. Then you know who it was.”

She crosses the finish line and looks over at us, raising a brow. “Do you really want me to tell you?”

“No. I’d rather not get caught up in your weird SIS shit.”

She scoffs. “If I were using the agencies, it wouldn’t be considered illegal, now would it?”

“Stop.” Parker places his hands over his ears. “I won’t be implicated in your activities.”

“You’re the one who asked in the first place.”

I toss my controller on the coffee table and make a beeline for my bedroom. The duffle bag that’s been sitting on my dresser for the last two weeks shines at me like a beacon. I quickly check it over, making sure my passport is in place before slinging it over my shoulder and grabbing a pair of sneakers from my wall.

Aleks waits for me in the hallway, following me as I head to the elevator alcove and sit on the footstool to slip my shoes on. He hits the button for me and leans against the wall.

“What’s the plan?”

“I’ll catch the first flight out, find her, and bring her home.”

“And if she doesn’t want to come?”

“Then I’ll wait with her until she’s ready.”

“Good luck, brother.” He claps me on the back.

FORTY-NINE

JACKSON

Istare at the woman sitting alone on the end of the pier. Her pastel pink hair is the same color as the sunset that is trying to peek through the cloudy sky. The bay is still busy, the town going about their end of day activities, but no one bothers her—not even the seabirds that squawk at every passerby.

The salty breeze brushes around me, and I reach back with shaky hands to tie my hair in a half knot.

“Come on, man,” I whisper to myself.

Before I end up standing here all evening, I force my legs to move forward. The worn planks beneath my feet creak slightly, and I know that the closer I get to her, the more likely she is to sense my presence.

My heart beats out of my chest, butterflies swarming my stomach and rising up to escape. The noise from the town gets quieter the farther out I go, replaced by the soft waves of the sea and occasional bird call. It makes my steps sound louder and louder until I’m a few feet away and watch the woman’s shoulders stiffen. Her freezing is brief—her hands sliding to the heart-shaped handbag at her side and opening it up to slip something out.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t taser me.”

She stops moving, head tilting slightly before it slowly twists around. Those honeyed doe eyes crash into mine.

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