Page 174 of Chalk Outline
“Fine. I choose air.”
“Why air?”
I focus on their figures. They wear dark techwear, vests, combat boots, and rifles slung over their backs.
Blonde mullet guy shoves a magazine into his gun. His tone is playful. “Maybe being invisible has its perks. The air is a force of nature that can’t be wrecked because it has the element ofsurprise. One day, it can be chill and friendly. The next day, it can be a hurricane or a tornado.” He tucks the gun into his holster and lowers his forearms onto the counter, leaning on them as a grin follows.
Mitch.
“So, you’re telling me to become unexpected.” The green-haired one questions with a sassy smirk behind a laptop screen, typing a mile a minute on the keyboard. His hazel eyes widen with alarm as the minutes tick away.
Braxton.
“It’s all up to you, but never be predictable,” I reply, inching forward and grabbing the glass of water on the counter. I chug it down in seconds. “Reeve taught me that.”
Rule number two.
“Winona, are you okay?”
“Do you need something?”
They ask in unison, backing away from their spots, and move closer to me. They exchange a knowing glance before shifting their gaze back to me.
Their concerned eyes silently plead, communicate, and ask for something they refuse to say or simply can’t. A promise to someone we both know.
Reeve.
They know something; otherwise, they wouldn’t be here.
“I’m good,” I reply.
“God, you and Reeve have nine lives, don’t you?” Mitch jokes right away, attempting to lighten the tension hanging over us. I’ve been told he’s the chatterbox who can talk nonstop.
I give him a small grin, my eyes flick to Braxton, and amusement tinged with annoyance radiates from him.
They’re not my friends; they’re Reeve’s. He claims he trusts them, so let’s see if that holds true.
“I have a black cat energy,” I reply to Mitch, placing the glass of water back on the counter. “Where is he?”
They exchange another loaded look. Braxton’s hand moves to scratch the back of his neck while Mitch takes a few steps back and slumps against the nearest wall, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“Spill,” I demand. My voice is smoky and strained. My throat is sore.
“He told me to show you this,” Braxton says first, fishing a phone from his front pocket. “He made a video for you.”
I don’t like those words at all.
My brows furrow in confusion. Agitation gnaws at me. I feel panicked, stressed, terrified, and…
I ball my hands into fists at my sides in anger, nails digging into my skin.
Braxton presses play and turns the phone toward me. Reeve’s face appears. The background looks just like his room in the tower. The platinum blonde streaks falling to his forehead seem fresher.
This was taken a couple of months ago.
“Hey, Baby.” He pauses, looking directly at the camera, and I feel his gaze piercing my soul, even though it’s a video. My muscles harden. My jaw locks. “Remember that I told you to slay your demons. I need to slay mine. I chased these people for three years because they threatened your existence. And when they threaten you, they threaten me. Your grandma not only sent me to protect you, she made sure I would be the one to end the suffering that brought you and me to her door. That’s why I told Mitch and Braxton to take you back home to your grandma. A helicopter will arrive at the spot in the forest where we landed—they know where, and the pilot’s name is Phoenix. Go. Don’t look for me. Please. I have to do this.”
No.
