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A half second, but Hud was late off the snap. Toby read his juke, was on him like glue, and when he went up to catch it, one-handed, Toby smacked it away.
He landed, Toby on top of him.
The safety rolled off him. “My win. My girl.”
Hud got up, stared at him. “She’s not your girl.”
“So, she’syourgirl.”
“She’s not my girl. She’s…we’re…friends. Or maybe not, I don’t know. But listen, just hands off, okay?”
Toby frowned at him, then suddenly began to laugh. “Wait—dude. I was talking about the woman by the door. The blonde chick. And I was just kidding. But methinks someone is lying to himself.”
Hudson glared at him. Then looked at Jack. “Again.”
This time he exploded off the line. Beat Toby by two steps, jumped and snagged the ball one-handed. Brought it down into the pocket, landed, spun and jerked away from Toby.
He ran into the end zone. And then, just for fun, spiked the ball.
Then he put his hands on his hips, stared out of the windows at the cityscape around them, the rain and the thunder in his heart.
And tried not to call himself a fool.
* * *
“With a view like this,I don’t know why you’d ever leave.”
Ned stood in the guest room of Iris’s Lake Como apartment, the third-floor, double bedroom where Fraser and Jonas had stayed a month ago while she’d been, um, dropping off spy stuff in a Berlin train station.
Stuff that hopefully was still there and would lead them to some clues as to why this nightmare had started and how to end it. At least, that was Jonas and Ned’s goal.
Iris just wanted to get her life back. “I’m not leaving.” She tucked the fitted sheet onto the mattress of the twin bed, one of two in the attic room. Her dad would stay in her office-slash-bedroom, and probably Shae would sleep with her in the king bed.
And tomorrow, they’d head to Germany. “I worked hard to renovate this place and make it what I want. This is my home.”
“A messy home. Sheesh.”
“You’re hilarious. But thanks for the help. I’d sort of forgotten that I left the place a disaster.”
“Or rather, whoever tossed it left it a disaster. You sure nothing is missing?”
“No, but none of my jewelry was taken, and really, that’s the only thing of value I have.”
“Don’t discount those Larry Norman vinyls. I didn’t know you were into Jesus music.”
“Remember when grandpa used to listen to him? And Love Song?”
“That was a you and grandpa thing. But I remember the albums. They’re still in your room back home, I think. Where, by the way, you should be if we can’t figure out who is trying to kill you—”
“Okay, just stop there.” She’d finished pulling the sheet onto the single bed, and now picked up a bare pillow and a case. “What if all this is in my head? I mean, I’ve been thinking about it, and who would want to kill me? I’m nobody.”
“And your friend Abe?”
She yanked the case over the pillow. “I don’t know. I’m just tired of letting fear control my life.”
“It’s been a grand total of six days, Iris. It’s not like you’ve been holed up in a prison, zombies surrounding the gate, waiting to eat you.”
She just stared at him. “What are you talking about?”
