Page 174 of The Rising


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“You’re here,” Tank says, his thumbs working hard on the controller in his hand. “And so is the little man. I’d be out with Fury looking for Beau if I could.”

“We’re going out for pizza,” I say. Those simple words. Simple but so strange. So strange, in fact, both Daniel and Tank stop playing and look at me like I need checking in at an asylum. “We are,” I assure them, pulling out my cell.

“I’m going nowhere unless I get it from the boss’s mouth.”

“Mom’s the boss,” Daniel says, making me smile. That’s not quite true, but I’ll take it.

I pull some confidence from nowhere and dial Danny, taking my cell to my ear. “Miss me?” he asks in answer as I start to pace in front of the fireplace.

“It’s painful.”

He laughs softly. “What do you want, baby?”

“To take Daniel out for pizza.” I hold my breath, turning away from Tank and Daniel so they can’t see my screwed-up face.

“Okay.”

My face drops. “What?”

“I said, okay.”

Okay? Just like that? I click my cell to loudspeaker and turn to Tank. “Can you repeat that, please?”

“You can take Daniel for pizza.”

“Cool!” Daniel chucks his controller aside and turns off the TV.

“Thank you.” I smile sweetly and disconnect the call. “Not that I needed his permission,” I add, leaving a laughing Tank and Daniel behind. “Be ready at one.” How ridiculous that I’m this excited to take Daniel out for plain old pizza? Crazy!

I take the stairs two at a time, dialing Beau, begging her to turn her cell on and pick up. She doesn’t. I pass Zinnea’s room and slow, reversing my steps and knocking on the door. “Come in,” a voice calls, and I push my way in. I’m not faced with the vivacious alter ego Zinnea Dolly Daydream. Lawrence is sitting in the chair by the window in an unusually plain red kimono, his natural hair damp from a recent shower—no lashes, no makeup, nothing. I pout when he looks at me sadly.

“Come for pizza,” I say, giving him begging eyes.

“Where the hell is she?” he asks, sounding as ordinary as I have ever heard Lawrence sound. Frankly, it doesn’t suit him. “I should have stayed in St. Lucia. I can’t stand this worry.”

“She’ll be home.” I go over and take his hands, pulling him up. “Come on. The boss has given me permission to leave our prison. I’m not going without you.”

“Fine, fine,” he sighs, waving me off. “What time are we leaving?”

“One.”

He looks at the clock on the nightstand that shows it’s just gone ten. “Good Lord, I better get a move on.” He scuttles off to the bathroom and shuts the door, and I go to my room, dialing Beau yet again. I get her voicemailagain, but this time I leave a message.

I beg her to call me. The wobble in my voice is not fake.

I’m so fucking worried about her.

In those three hours from ten until one, Lawrence didn’t find it in himself to transform into Zinnea. Instead, he pulled on some Bermuda shorts, a Hawaiian short-sleeved shirt, some black and white checked Vans, a tie-dyed baseball cap that he has on backward, and has some thick-rimmed round spectacles covering his puffy eyes. But he’s here.

“Daniel, it’s not growing legs and running off your plate,” I say, astonished, as Tank chuckles around his slice and Lawrence rubs his hair. I have never seen anyone eat pizza like it. I hate to think he’s making the most of his freedom, eating as much as he can as fast as he can. We can order pizza anytime, but it’s not the same as eating out.

My cell rings, and I blindly reach for it as I toss Daniel some napkins, answering. “Hello.”

I expect to hear Danny’s voice. Checking in. I don’t. I shoot up from the table. “Beau?” I blurt, and everyone pauses chewing and looks at me, eliminating any chance I have of keeping this from James. Not that I would or could. The man is a broken, lost mess.

“I’m fine,” she says, as I step away from the table, getting a warning look from Tank. I don’t go far, wandering in front of the bar area.

“Where are you?” I ask.

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