Page 25 of Hayden


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Bouncing on her toes once more, she says, “Hurry, Hayden.”

“I will.”

I step inside, closing the sliding glass door behind me.

Since Addison’s been outside for a while, I know she’s going to need to warm up fast, so I grab a black-and-silver zip-up Thunder hoodie from my closet.

But just as I’m starting out of my bedroom to go rescue her, I remember something.

How will I get in?

Is her front door locked?

Is her alarm armed?

Does she even have an alarm?

I do, so I’m guessing she does too.

“Okay, I better check,” I murmur as I head back out onto the deck.

The second Addison sees me, she shrieks, “What are you doing? Are you coming over to help me or not?”

I point at her. “Okay, I’m going to ignore that tone.”

“Whatever,” she interjects with a huff as she crosses her arms tightly around her torso.

“Ahh, hey, genius,” I snap. “There’s one little problem we need to address before I rescue your locked-out ass.”

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“Just how am I supposed to get in? I’m sure your alarm, if you have one, is on, and the front door is locked. All we need is for me to somehow trip the alarm and the police get called out.”

She snorts. “At this point, they’d probably get here faster than you.”

I cock my head. “Do you want my help or not?”

“I do,” she says on a sigh. “And you’re right—I do have an alarm, and it’s armed. But once you enter the code on the outer keypad—as you probably know, asshat—the front door will automatically unlock.”

“Okay, great.” I nod, ignoring her snarky insult. “What’s the code?”

She hesitates, and, tapping my foot, I say, “Any day now. I’m waiting…”

“Don’t you need to write it down?” she asks.

Is she serious?

“How dumb do you think I am?” I ask gruffly. She gives me a do-you-really-want-to-know look, and I hold up my hand. “Don’t answer that. Just give me the code, and I, Ugg the Caveman, will try to remember the numbers in my puny brain.”

“You said it, not me,” she mutters. And then, before I can respond with a witty retort of my own, she mumbles what I think is “8-4-7-9-6.”

“Uh…” I cup my ear. “Can you say it a little louder?”

“But I don’t want anyone else to hear,” she protests.

“Seriously?” I make a sweeping motion with my hand. “We’re the only ones around, sweetheart. Who in the hell is going to hear? Our neighbors a block away? Do you think they have bionic ears?”

“Oh, shut up, Harrington,” she grumbles. “Are you ready?”

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