Page 23 of Pretend You Love Me
“I’ll give you my number in case you need something,” he says.
“Oh, right,” I say, pulling out my phone.
“What the hell is that?” He scowls at my phone.
“What?”
“That phone,” he says, pointing.
“It’s a phone.”
“It’s a flip phone,” he says.
“Well, it’smyphone,” I say. I’m not looking at him.
“It’s a burner phone,” he says. I’m directing all my attention toward the screen, trying to hide any hint of emotion. He’s not hiding any emotion right now. Grumpypants has returned, and he seems irrationally pissed off about my phone situation. Why does he freaking care? It doesn’t have anything to do with him.
“It’s a prepaid phone,” I say, opening the contacts.
“Ginger...” His voice sounds like a warning.
“Not everyone can afford...”
He cuts me off. “To be tracked?”
I swallow. God, why is my mouth so dry?
“Kip, let’s not do this.” I feel so tired all of the sudden.
He sighs heavily. “Fine, Ginger. We don’t have to do this.” He pauses for a moment and then says, “Right now.”
Oh, goody. Lucky me..
We exchange numbers, and then he says. “Well, I should really get to work.”
As he walks back to his cabin, Blue at his heels, I call after him. “Hey Kip. Thanks for everything.”
He doesn’t turn back but just waves his hand in the air and continues to walk away.
I unpack my things. It doesn’t take long because I haven’t brought much. I consider taking a bath or maybe a nap.
I lie down on the bed.
Oh, god, it’s the most comfortable bed in the world. I’d love to stay in this bed forever, but I know I can’t sleep right now. There’s too much adrenaline coursing through my veins. I jump up. I need the internet. I have no devices with me - except my actual cell phone which is sitting in the front pocket of my suitcase. Battery removed. I’m only using it if there’s an emergency. As soon as that battery comes to life - the cavalry will be in town before I can even place a phone call, so it’s staying put.
I bet there’s a library in town. I need to get online. I need to make sure my brother hasn’t declared war on Canada. I drove through the Canadian border a few days ago with my passport and then ditched my rental car. I changed cars twice and haven’t used my real name or a credit card since. An old friend smuggled me into Alaska in the trunk of his car, and then he gave me the car (the now wrecked one), and Ubered it back to Canada.
I owe him.
Big time.
So, yes, to summarize, the President’s sister smuggled herself across the US/Canadian border. If this ever gets out to the press, well, I’m not going to think about that.
I look out the window for a moment. It’s a pretty day; I’m sure I can walk into town. What is it? Two? Maybe three miles?
I like walking, so I scribble a note about going into town and leave it on the kitchen counter. I could text, but I don’t think I need to distract him with every little thing. I set off down the driveway.
Once I make it to the road, I figure I’m maybe two miles from town. Well, I really hope I’m only two miles from town. I wasn’t paying that close attention when we drove in.
