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Instead of another incoming message, my phone rings. I hold it up as I open the car door, showing Reed and Ainsley Kingston’s name flashing on the screen.
“I’ve gotta take this. I’ll see you guys later. Thanks for the ride.”
“Night, Jazz,” they say in unison.
I take a seat on the front stoop as I hit the button to accept the call. “Yeah?”
“You sure you’re okay? You sound weird.”
“How can I sound like anything through a text?”
I’m pretty sure he growls. “You know what I meant, Jazz.”
Actually, I’m not sure I know anything about you.
I sigh, telling myself not to cry again. “I’m fine, Kingston. Just really tired. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”
“Reed said you were crying when they found you.”
That fucker.
“It’s no big deal. I just panicked because I got lost. I’m fine.”
“Why were you in that maze, Jazz?”
Why were you in that house, Kingston?
“I thought it looked cool, so I went in to check it out.”
He’s silent for a moment. “How’d you end up outside when you said you were going to the bathroom?”
“Why does it matter?”
“What do you mean, ‘Why does it matter?’ You know I didn’t want you alone for any reason.”
“Why not? Because you were afraid I’d see you doing something you shouldn’t have been doing?”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“Don’t yell at me.”
“Don’t piss me off, and I won’t.”
I unlock the front door and step inside. Thankfully, no one is loitering in the foyer.
“And on that note, I’m done with this conversation. Goodnight, Kingston.”
My phone rings one second after I hang up on him, but I decline the call. He tries three more times before sending a text.
Kingston: Pick up the fucking phone, Jazz.
Not gonna happen, buddy.
Kingston: If you don’t pick up the phone, I’m driving my ass over there, and I’ll drag you out of the house if I have to.
I know that’s not an idle threat, so I move fast. I trade my fancy dress for some black jeans, a matching hoodie, and some Chucks, pulling my hair in a low pony before sliding a beanie over my head. I look like I’m getting ready to do a little B and E, but I suppose blending in is precisely what I’m going for here. I thumb through the contacts on my phone and pull up the one I need.
The deep voice I know as well as my own answers on the first ring. “Jazz. I didn’t expect to hear from you anytime soon. What’s up?”
