Page 26 of Wicked Love
The voice on the end crackled through the speaker, getting even harsher. “It has every fucking thing to do with me, and I think you know that. Cough up some answers, or you’re going to regret it as soon as I get my hands on you.”
Somehow I had the feeling I’d regret it even more if I did tell him who I was. I folded my arms over my chest, and Beckett waggled his phone at me. He’d typed out a sentence in his notes app for me to say, since he couldn’t speak without giving away that he was here.
I read the line and quickly recited it, even though I wasn’t totally sure what he thought it would accomplish. “I think we might even expand our association with the market. There’s plenty to gain out of grabbing customer credit card information.”
The man sputtered with apparent fury. “You can’t be serious. Only an imbecile would bother with that kind of petty fraud.” He let out a huff. “You’re wasting my time. I don’t know what you’re up to, but I’ll figure it out. And then you’d better believe I’ll deal with you.”
He hung up with a sharp click.
I let out my breath with a shudder, all my nerves jittering, and glanced across the table at Beckett. He was frowning at the phone, his expression gone ominously dark.
“Do you know who that was?” I ventured.
He grimaced. “I think I might.” He shoved back his chair and stood up, contemplating our half-finished meal with regret. Then he pulled out his own phone. “I hate to abandon our lunch, but I should check a few things right away—things I can’t look into from here.”
My stomach knotted, but not because of the meal cut short. I pushed to my feet. “I get it. This is way more important. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
Beckett nodded briskly, typing out a text as we hustled toward the complex’s front doors. “I know how to deal with people like this.” His gaze slid back to me, and his voice softened. “Before I get going, I’ll have the van swing by and drop you off closer to the university.”
I was dying to badger him with questions, but I knew Beckett well enough by now to realize that he’d tell me what was going on when he was ready. “All right. If the driver could let me out near the new age shop downtown, that would be perfect.”
“I’ll tell him that.” Just a few steps from the doors, Beckett paused and touched my arm. “I’ll be back in touch soon. Stay inside until the van comes around, and then walk straight to it.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t going to argue when he was speaking so somberly.
He nodded to me and hesitated again, leaning toward me just a tad as if he were about to go in for a kiss. Then he squeezed my arm and yanked himself away.
I watched him stride down the front walkway, my spirits sinking. What could he have heard in the call that’d disturbed the most implacable guy I’d ever met so much?
CHAPTERTWELVE
Logan
The damn codewouldn’trun.
I’d gone through it well over ten times, trying to find the character that made the entire sequence invalid. It had to be a typo somewhere—something small and nearly impossible to find in the dozens of pages of code. My frustration had been progressively rising as I searched for the error, and after my twelfth—thirteenth?—time going through it, I still found nothing.
I knew why I couldn’t find it, of course. Each time, I’d make it through a handful of lines of code, fully focusing, and then once I reached the end of the page, I’d realize that my mind had been elsewhere. On Maddie, mostly.
The project was important, and I had to turn it in by the end of the weekend, but nothing could top the danger she was facing. That was all I could think about, and it consumed every corner of my mind. What was a stupid computer science project worth when some murderous psychopath had Maddie in his sights?
What was any of the work I’d put in here at college worth when I couldn’t guarantee I could keep her safe? What was the point in getting a degree, in setting myself up for a good job—what was the point in any of this if I lost her?
Finally, I pushed myself off the sofa and stalked around the apartment’s living room as if I could outpace my worries. My hand automatically reached for the pistol I’d stuffed in the back of my jeans. The feel of it in my hands—the warmed metal, the solid weight of it—settled my nerves just a fraction. It was something concrete I could put to use if Maddie was threatened.
At least, until I remembered the panicked expression on Maddie’s face when she’d seen me pull it out and aim it at Beckett. She hadn’t been prepared for that.Ihadn’t expected to ever handle an illegal firearm… but after her mom’s accident and the fire in the Vigil office and then finding out Beckett had been lying to our faces, I’d felt worsenothaving a weapon that could match the kind any of those criminals could pull out.
Thank God for our own criminal connections. I’d been able to arrange to get this through Darrel with just a couple of brief visits to his chop shop, and he hadn’t even asked any questions. I didn’t trust the guy farther than I could throw him, but he was reliable in very specific ways.
And as long as Maddie was okay, I wouldn’tneedto use it anyway. I simply had it just in case.
As I meandered through the living room again, running my fingers over the barrel, Slade strolled out of his bedroom with his backpack. He dropped it onto one of the kitchen stools and gave me an unusually contemplative look that raised my hackles before he turned toward the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water.
He opened it as he swiveled back toward me and chugged a few gulps. As he lowered the bottle, he tipped his head to me. “We’ll get this whole thing sorted out, man. It’s going to be okay.”
A rough laugh burst from my throat. Of course he’d say that.
“Nothing about this is okay,” I snapped before I could rein in my temper. “We have no idea what could come at us—or at Maddie—next. So don’t pretend you know shit about it.”
