then waited as the call went through whatever routing it needed to contact New York. Once it started ringing, Helen picked up the phone almost instantly. “Hello?” She sounded almost frantic.
“It’s me,” Zoey said. For the first time in her life, she wished she wore a watch. In the movies, the bad guys always got off the phone just a few moments before the trace was completed. Some sort of timer would have been handy.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“You probably can’t tell me where you are.”
“No.”
“But you’re safe.” This time, it was a statement, something Helen was using to reassure herself. Zoey could hear some of the initial tension flowing out of her voice. “I don’t imagine you’re on holiday.”
Zoey had to chuckle. “You imagine correctly. Or don’t. Whatever.”
“Do you have a plan?”
That was rather the sticking point. “I don’t personally. Others do.”
She could hear Helen flipping into that mode where she wanted to help, to do everything possible to make a difference. “What do you need?”
It hurt more than it should have had to in order to say, “I need you to stay out of it, Helen. I love you too much to get you involved.”
Helen’s silence said more about how angry she was than any words could have done.
“Okay, more involved than you already are,” Zoey tried, though she found she didn’t really think it was going to make all that much difference.
The silence went on long enough that Zoey wondered if they’d lost the connection. “Helen,” she said, as gently as she could. “I can’t stay on the phone. I don’t need anything, we’re going to be fine, and we’re going to figure something out. I just didn’t want you to worry.”
Helen scoffed, and Zoey could imagine her shaking her head. “As if,” she said after a moment. “Is there any safe way to contact you?”
“Not right now. As soon as there is, I’ll let you know.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
“Tell your playboy boyfriend I’ll get him banned for life if he doesn’t bring you back to me whole.”
It was an empty threat—how could Alex be banned from the club if they never went back to New York City?—but Helen clearly meant it with all the vehemence she could muster. It was absolutely wonderful to be cared about that much. “I love you, sha.”
“Yeah, I love you too.” Helen’s tone was teasing, but there was a lot more underneath the humor. Quite a lot more. Zoey’s hand shook as she flipped the phone shut. She went back to Alex and Leo, handed Leo back the phone, and then retreated back to her seat. She buckled her safety belt, so no one would have to remind her, but she felt incredibly exposed just sitting there. After a moment, she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead on them. Yes. That was a little bit better.
It was several minutes later when Alex moved over next to her again. The plane’s engines had roared back to life, and she felt her ears pop as the cabin re-pressurized. She didn’t look up from her knees.
“Are you afraid?” He asked. His voice wasn’t teasing or mocking, but it also wasn’t a question that she wanted to answer. She shook her head vehemently, and only looked at him when there was a poke of something hard into the flesh of her arm. It wasn’t a hard poke, but it was determined, and she looked back at him just to glare.
Only he was holding out a slim, rectangular bit of plastic and glass that she recognized in theory, if not in practice. It wasn’t her ereader—in fact she was pretty sure it was a more recent model—but it was an ereader. “What is that? You told me not to bring one.”
“I told you not to bring yours, and I meant it,” he said. “But this one is clean, not tied to either of us. Paid for in cash. Someone got it for me in New York and dropped it on the plane before we
“It’s me,” Zoey said. For the first time in her life, she wished she wore a watch. In the movies, the bad guys always got off the phone just a few moments before the trace was completed. Some sort of timer would have been handy.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“You probably can’t tell me where you are.”
“No.”
“But you’re safe.” This time, it was a statement, something Helen was using to reassure herself. Zoey could hear some of the initial tension flowing out of her voice. “I don’t imagine you’re on holiday.”
Zoey had to chuckle. “You imagine correctly. Or don’t. Whatever.”
“Do you have a plan?”
That was rather the sticking point. “I don’t personally. Others do.”
She could hear Helen flipping into that mode where she wanted to help, to do everything possible to make a difference. “What do you need?”
It hurt more than it should have had to in order to say, “I need you to stay out of it, Helen. I love you too much to get you involved.”
Helen’s silence said more about how angry she was than any words could have done.
“Okay, more involved than you already are,” Zoey tried, though she found she didn’t really think it was going to make all that much difference.
The silence went on long enough that Zoey wondered if they’d lost the connection. “Helen,” she said, as gently as she could. “I can’t stay on the phone. I don’t need anything, we’re going to be fine, and we’re going to figure something out. I just didn’t want you to worry.”
Helen scoffed, and Zoey could imagine her shaking her head. “As if,” she said after a moment. “Is there any safe way to contact you?”
“Not right now. As soon as there is, I’ll let you know.”
“Take care of yourself.”
“I will.”
“Tell your playboy boyfriend I’ll get him banned for life if he doesn’t bring you back to me whole.”
It was an empty threat—how could Alex be banned from the club if they never went back to New York City?—but Helen clearly meant it with all the vehemence she could muster. It was absolutely wonderful to be cared about that much. “I love you, sha.”
“Yeah, I love you too.” Helen’s tone was teasing, but there was a lot more underneath the humor. Quite a lot more. Zoey’s hand shook as she flipped the phone shut. She went back to Alex and Leo, handed Leo back the phone, and then retreated back to her seat. She buckled her safety belt, so no one would have to remind her, but she felt incredibly exposed just sitting there. After a moment, she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her forehead on them. Yes. That was a little bit better.
It was several minutes later when Alex moved over next to her again. The plane’s engines had roared back to life, and she felt her ears pop as the cabin re-pressurized. She didn’t look up from her knees.
“Are you afraid?” He asked. His voice wasn’t teasing or mocking, but it also wasn’t a question that she wanted to answer. She shook her head vehemently, and only looked at him when there was a poke of something hard into the flesh of her arm. It wasn’t a hard poke, but it was determined, and she looked back at him just to glare.
Only he was holding out a slim, rectangular bit of plastic and glass that she recognized in theory, if not in practice. It wasn’t her ereader—in fact she was pretty sure it was a more recent model—but it was an ereader. “What is that? You told me not to bring one.”
“I told you not to bring yours, and I meant it,” he said. “But this one is clean, not tied to either of us. Paid for in cash. Someone got it for me in New York and dropped it on the plane before we
Similar Books
Ad Astra
Jack Campbell
Quillblade
Ben Chandler
The White Oak
Kim White
Apex Predator
J. A. Faura
The Accidental Apprentice
Vikas Swarup
Going to the Chapel: A Novella
Rita Herron
Arslan
M. J. Engh
Under Locke
Mariana Zapata
Pretend It's Love
Stefanie London