Page 199 of Scoring the Player
I arch an eyebrow.
“I’m not.” He pushes off the wall. “Believe me or don’t.”
“Admit it. You’re angry cause I?—”
“Look, just go. You got what you came for.” His tone sounds defeated.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“This is all you wanted from the jump, right?” He cuts off the water. “I’m done forcing something that’s not there.”
“It is there.”
“You sure? What’s changed besides wanting to bone? What else do you want?”
“Not for it to be like this.”
“Then what?”
“For you not to be angry, for starters.”
He shrugs. “I’m not interested in casual fucks. I did that. I want more. And I’m not angry—I’m just over it.”
“You mean you’re over me.” My voice cracks.
“No. This!” His finger shoots back and forth between us. “The guessing, the not knowing what anything means. Like now. You’re in front of me, and I’m not sure why. I can’t figure you out. You do one thing but say another. I think we’re on one page, but we’re not. Even when you asked me to come to your house a few minutes ago. I did that. I flew across the country to be with you, and where the hell did that leave me? I don’t know how to be with you.”
“Where are you going?” I ask as he leaves the stall.
He grabs his towel. “I’ll finish showering when you’re gone.”
CHAPTER 49
SALEM
Ishift the car into Park and stare up at the four-story white house with a gray roof that looks wider than my brownstone and my neighbor’s put together. Climbing out, I open the back door and grab the cake box from the floor. Balancing the box with one hand, I lock the car. Though, looking around at the quiet suburban street, I doubt I have to.
My phone vibrates when I’m a few feet away from the door. I balance the box as I click play on the audio message.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Jones. This is Mr. Chen. We caught a lead in the search for Denzel. You may recall that for the more difficult cases, my team and I outsource a couple of hours to a larger agency with more resources. A junior agent there caught a break. Denzel was seen entering Mexico by car a couple of weeks ago, shortly after you reported talking to him on the phone. His whereabouts in Mexico are unknown, but we’re confident we’ll have more information soon. I’ll be in touch again shortly.
Mexico?I stare at my phone.
With who?
What for?
Placing my phone on top of the box, I wipe my palm against my sweater and then tap the audio record button.
“H-hi, Mr. Chen—” I stop recording and take a deep breath. My parents were also copied on the message. I need to sound calm for them.
I start to hit record again when a car pulls in behind me.
I turn and wave.
“Salem, is that you?” Liz, Blue’s mother, asks as she climbs out of the car, grinning widely.
“Hi, Liz. I came to check on Anaïs. How is she?”
