Page 90 of The Crush
The phone only rings a few times before someone picks up, and the apprehension twists into me like a knife until the moment I recognize my dad’s voice.
“Hello?” he says on the other end of the line, and I feel an immediate surge of guilt at how upset he sounds.
“Hi,” I force out, ignoring the way Salma is still clearly eavesdropping from a few feet away. “It’s—it’s me. I’m okay.”
“Danny.” His relief is obvious. So is his exhaustion. “Where are you?”
I’m not sure why I thought I’d have time to work up to this part, why I thought I’d still have time to figure out what to say. “I’m at the DEA office.”
I pause, letting the statement hang in the air between us, and I wonder what he’s thinking almost as much as I wonder if Isabel is there right now. As I wonder how much it will hurt to hear her voice.
“Mijo, you’ve been out all night. You haven’t slept. Why don’t you come home, and we can talk about it?”
My throat feels raw, my chest burning with the strain of keeping my voice even. “Nothing really to say. I’m sorry. I need to do this.”
“You don’t,” murmurs my dad in return. “I know you think you do, but you don’t.”
Sometimes I wish he would just yell at me.
“Come home,” he urges. “You can talk to me about it. To Isa.”
“I’m… Pop, I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“Mijo—”
“Is she there? Can I talk to her?”
There’s shuffling on the other end, and then—
“Danny?” she says right away, sounding frantic. “What happened? Are you okay?”
All I want to do is tell her to forget the whole thing, that I’m heading back now. But…She doesn’t deserve to be cursed.
“I’m sorry,” I tell her.For leaving. For coming back. For ever going in the first place.“I’m okay. I’ve been trying to call but I had trouble getting a phone.”
“You had trouble getting a phone? Why? Where are you? Why didn’t you come home?”
“I wanted to, but…” I hesitate, already missing her in a way that feels unbearable. “I’ve had some time to think, and I need to do this. It’s better.”
Better that I leave now. Better that she only wastes months on me instead of years.
There’s movement down the hall, surprised greetings and quick conversation, and I look up to see Brenner emerging from the elevator looking like he’d been headed for the golf course.
“I have to go,” I say as I see him searching. “I’ll be back later, and we can talk.”
Every word I say to her feels hollow, not nearly enough, but I can’t think over the sudden spike of panic as Brenner heads my way, tossing out orders to anyone in his path. Even being on the phone with her here feels too close, and I want her away from it. I’m going to keep her away from it.
“No, tell me what’s going onnow.”
Salma moves to intercept Brenner, undoubtedly explaining my current situation with a lot of exasperated hand gestures. His gaze flicks up and finds me.
I don’t want to do this. I want to go home.
“What’s better? Danny, tell me where you are.”
“I’m sorry, Isabel,” I say again. “I’m so sorry.”
Brenner raises a hand in greeting, smoothing back his blonde hair, smiling as he snaps out a few directions to a nearby agent.
