Page 77 of Ravaged
And that’s why my heart wanted to stay.
Once I returned, he handed me a plastic bag with my clothes, still dirty from the woods, plus my wallet and phone. I turned on the device, and it kept pinging with notifications: a dozen missed calls and about forty text messages from Iris (Bitch, fur real. Where the fuck are you? I’m going to kill whoever hurt you, and then I’m going to whip your ass for making me worry!), and two missed calls and a voicemail from an unknown number. Dad.
Before I checked the voicemail, I dialed Iris.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Girl, what the hell?” I laughed. “I don’t even get a ‘hey’ anymore?”
She let out a relieved sigh. “Itisyou,” she said. “I thought it was going to be one of the Adlers. Thank the universe. Where are you? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry,” I said, but then I hit my head, knowing those words were going to get me in trouble. This was Iris we were talking about.
“Yeah, right. Come on now. Don’t ever say that to me again.”
“We ran away from the—” I stopped, eyeing Ethan. He nodded, and I continued, “—from the brothers,” I tried. She would know what I meant. “So we’re on the run now, I guess.”
“We?”
She wasn’t going to like this answer. “I’m with Ethan?” I said in a sheepish voice.
“Seriously?” She groaned. “Don’t tell me you fell in love with him.” Then she gasped. “Youdidfall in love with him, didn’t you?”
How much had Ethan heard? Iris had a habit of speaking louder than usual when it came to phone calls, but luckily, Ethan already knew how I felt.
“I guess I did,” I said, blushing. “I’ll keep in touch.”
“With burner phones,” Ethan said.
“With burner phones,” I said into the mic. “You’ll be alright?”
“You know they revoked protection for the club?” Iris said.
“Yeah.”
“It was because of you two, wasn’t it?”
“Well,” I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me, “We might’ve had something to do with it. The acceleration of it, at least.”
“I’m sure the new owner screwed it up somehow anyway,” Iris sighed. “Anyway, yes. I’ll try to answer unknown numbers from now on.”
“I miss you,” I said.
“I miss you too,” she said in a quiet voice. Then we hung up.
My stomach ached, thinking about the voicemail. I didn’t want to check it. Dad never left voicemails unless it was an emergency.
At least now, I knew that he was on a plane somewhere. Somewhere sunny.
I dialed voicemail and punched in my pin, then listened.
Sent today at one forty-two p.m.
My gut sank, waiting for his words.
“Teagen,” his voice was raspy. “I have to say this quickly. Muro’s guards will notice me any minute now.” Muro? Who the hell was Muro? “Vegas. You know the bank on West Sahara, that pink one across from the museum? Go there. Your name is on my account. Ask for the box.”
In the background, it sounded like there were people coming closer to him. The phone shifted, like he was hiding from someone.
