Long Time Gone (Hell or High Water ) Read Free

and they weren’t too happy with her when she’d pointed that out. They weren’t happy that she didn’t expand on what she and her rescuer had talked about either, but Kasey didn’t see that it was pertinent.
    Later that day, she heard Agent Lawler whispering into her phone, “This is the fourth one this month, and she also won’t give any answers about him.” Her back was turned away from Kasey. “How the hell does this asshole engender such goodwill?”
    Kasey couldn’t help but smile. Some people were just born like that.

From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Subject: Eritrea
    It’s hotter than hell here. Reminds me a lot of home. You know, my Cajun voodoo home. I used to spend hours tracking my way through the swamps. I could go in there blindfolded and still know where I was. Could lead myself in the dark, based on the sounds around me. The feel of the bark and moss on my fingers. How the ground felt under my feet.
    Hint: walk away from the squish or you’re headed into actual water. Seems simple, but people tend to panic in the dark. I don’t think you would. You take action.
    I just fight.

    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Subject: Relationships
    I met Cope’s girlfriend on Skype. She’s very . . . perky. Doesn’t seem to fit with Cope. Not that I’m an expert on relationships.
    You have to understand why I did it, Proph. I couldn’t risk you. With Cope, it’s different, and I don’t know why.
    I know what you’re thinking—by that logic, Cope’s expendable. But that’s not it at all. It’s like . . . you took it, Prophet—you took the goddamned curse, and you wrapped it all up in that tornado of yours, and now it’s a part of you. Which means that staying away from you will keep you safe.
    I keep picturing you, hanging there by your wrists in front of Sadiq. Fighting. Keep thinking that you’d been in that exact position before. I wake up in a cold sweat, not worried about me, but searching for you in that warehouse. I swear I can hear your heartbeat.
    Maybe it would’ve helped us if I could’ve told you this face-to-face. Maybe you’re not getting these. Maybe everyone at EE is, or maybe you’re showing them to people and laughing your ass off at me. But that’s all right.

    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Subject: Cut the crap
    Mick and Blue asked if I’d heard from you. Actually, they asked Cope, and they’re pissed and concerned, and I know the feeling.
    I didn’t know two weeks could affect me so much.
    I thought I could walk away from our partnership. I ran. I was scared. <—I almost deleted this line, but what the hell do I have to lose that I haven’t already?

    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Subject: Worried
    No one knows where you are.
    I’m not going to insult you by saying I’m sorry, because that’s too simple. I’m not sorry. I’m trying to take care of you.
    But I could take better care of you if I was with you. I realize that now.
    I’ve also realized that it’s really never too late. For anything.

    Tom was losing his mind. He was resolutely ignoring The Weather Channel on the muted TV, but everything he was doing was punctuated with the thunk thunk thunk of Cope, lying flat on his back on the floor of EE, Ltd.’s Eritrea office, throwing a tennis ball against the ceiling and catching it. Left-handed. A million fucking times.
    He’d told Tom he did it because he was right-handed and needed to up his advantage.
    When it had started on day one of their partnership, four months ago, Tom swore Cope did it because he knew it drove Tom nuts. That was, until he’d reminded himself that he wasn’t dealing with Prophet any more. That Cope was as straight a shooter as it got. That Tom had chosen Cope. Deliberately.
    Six months of working for EE and he was already on his second partner, just like normal. Except this time, it was his choice, not the curse