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“You know what, if you could cause enough excitement to keep the entire Blue Region distracted for the day, that would really help.” Gwen rolls her eyes. “Somehow, I think you’re capable of that.”
“Is that a compliment, Gwen? Coming from you, I believe it was.”
Gwen laughs and after a moment, I join in. I glance at Phoenix and a flash of pain crosses over her eyes. The smile immediately drops from my face. Just when I think I’m figuring her out...
“I’ll be leaving in ten minutes, if you want to say your goodbyes now,” Phoenix says to me and leaves the room.
“Do I stand a chance of winning her over?” I ask the table of women.
“Slim to none,” Jewel says.
“If you’ll just stop acting like Jackal, maybe,” Gwen says softly.
I sigh. “Hard to teach an old dog new tricks…”
The goodbyes are brief. I wish I had a better feeling about it as I say goodbye to Gwen. She is wearing one of Phoenix’s shirts and a pair of gold earrings that dangle beneath her lobes. She looks more like the old Gwen today, which makes me hurt and rejoice at the same time. I wonder if she put on the earrings in anticipation of seeing Folsom.
“You think he’ll be waiting for me?” she asks, as if reading my mind.
“I don’t think, I know.”
She doesn’t look like she believes me. Sophia’s a hot piece of ass, but she’s not Foley’s type. Plus the guy is monogamous as fuck; if he gave his heart to Gwen Allison, that’s where it will stay.
“Tell Foley hey for me when you find him,” I tell her.
She blinks and squeezes my arm and gives Phoenix another hug. Something is weighing heavily on her and I wish I knew what it was. I wait in the car while they exchange words. When Phoenix gets in the car, she seems shaken.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Fine. Do you think Gwen was acting weird?”
“She just escaped from prison and is hiding out in the Blue countryside with a bunch of convicts. I would hope so.”
“I’m being serious, Jackal. There’s something wrong.”
“Why didn’t you just ask her?”
“I don’t know her well enough.” She shrugs. “It’s just a feeling…”
Her Silverbook hovers and she selects a playlist, the music quickly filling the car and drowning out any further conversation.
I scratch my chin.
“Phoenix,” I say, turning the music down. “There’s this thing called communication—”
“I don’t want to talk, Jackal!” She shoots me a look before turning the music back up.
I turn it down.
“I, for one, am extremely stressed,” I start.
“I’m not your psychiatrist!”
“First with Folsom missing, and then my damn handler keeps—”
“Okay, Jackal! Okay!”
I smile innocently. “Feel free to share, Phoenix. The floor is yours.”
