Page 64 of Splintered Security
“Now?” The sleep has left Liam’s voice. He’s alert if not still pissed.
“Now. I’ll tell her you’re coming. Shit went south, and I need to know she’s safe. Keep her that way.”
“Done.” He disconnects. Liam Murphy’s word is an oath. I know he’ll do what he says.
Me: Liam is coming to the house in a bit. Let him in.
Sunshine: Are you okay? Why is he coming? He’s scary.
Me: I’m fine. I need you safe, and he will allay my fears.
Sunshine: Has anything… happened?
Me: Not the way I wanted.
Me: More when I’m home.
Sunshine: Love you.
Me: Love you too.
Grabbing her old phone again, I press Mom in the contacts and hold my breath.
“So now you think you can come crawling back? When you don’t do as you’re told?” Heath Giltenhouse’s malice slithers through theconnection
I say nothing, but freeze when I hear the plea in the background.
“No, Anni. Don’t come here,” Adrienne cries, only to be met with a thud of flesh on flesh and a crack that sounds like bone breaking.
I disconnect and return to airplane mode. They will expect her to come. It’s more than an hour from our house to her mom’s. But I don’t need that hour from where I am to the south side of the Springs.
The phone rings in my car. Unknown caller on my personal phone. Shit. It’s connected to the Google number, so probably Smith. I ignore it.
How the hell did last Sunday go like clockwork and today all the players are in the wrong place at the wrong time with nothing but problems? I wish I could abort mission, go home, fuck my wife, and leave this to solve another day.
But fuck that. I want this done. I need Anni safe. This has to be behind us.
And I sure as hell am not leaving Adrienne to Giltenhouse’s machinations.
27
kool-aid man
Anni
Long after my third cup of coffee, I’ve left reruns of Fran Drescher and her oh-so-nineties outfits. I’ve switched to the travel channel to watch the beautiful scenery and avoid anything remotely resembling reality. When my phone rings with an unknown number, I jump and fumble the device.
Only two people have this number, and it’s not Ren calling. Dread pools in my belly. This is bad.
At the same moment, there’s a pounding on the door. “Anni, open up.”
I pick up the phone and see the voicemail rolling across the screen and freeze. “…Conyers with your mom…”
I rip the door open and stare into the hard eyes of the bald-headed, wild-bearded Liam Whatever-his-last-name-is.
“I have to go.” I scramble toward the bedroom only to rush toward the garage. I’m back searching for my phone when I realize it’s in my hand. “I need shoes.”
Liam pushes through the door, closing it and leaning back against it, his thick arms crossed over his chest. “You’re not going anywhere.”
