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35
MELODY
“You look like the conspiring type,” I whisper to Willow.
She brightens. “I do?”
“Yeah.” I glance over her shoulder. The guys are off to the side, arguing about something. A player on another team, I think. I catch the nameStone Foster, although it doesn’t mean anything to me. “I need to ditch you guys.”
Her face falls.
“I’m sorry.”
We walked through campus. The guy Greyson knows didn’t recognize me, so that was a bit of a bust. He didn’t even know my name.
“I got a call from my dad, and he’s in Stone Ridge prison. He wants me to visit him, and Jake doesn’t think it’s a great idea.”
Willow smiles. “You call him Jake?”
Ugh.
“No, don’t get me wrong. He snapped at a girl once for calling him that.”
I don’t necessarily likethateither, but… it does feel a little more special.
“You’ve known him a long time?” I ask to change the subject.
“Yeah. You, too, you know. You taught one of my classes at Crown Point.”
“Oh God.” I look away, trying to hide my wince. “I…”
She grabs my hand. “You were a good professor. Passionate about what you were teaching. It was a nice change, especially because you got us to understand it. Like some stuff I would never have gotten through, but you had the magic touch.”
“That’s… nice.” I force a smile. “Too bad I’ve forgotten everything.”
“Yeah.” She goes quiet. But only for a moment. Then she’s motioning for Violet and Aspen to come in close. “Okay, here’s the plan. Violet and Aspen will run interference with the guys, and then you and I are gonna catch a car.”
Aspen makes a face. “Only one of us doesn’t have a permanent tracker.”
They both look at Violet.
She groans. “Yep. Here.” She hands her phone off to Aspen.
Willow pulls out a chunk of cash and stuffs it in my hand. “Text us when you’re on your way back. You have my number?”
“I’ve got it memorized,” Violet murmurs. “Okay. Go.”
Aspen and Willow break off, drifting back toward the guys who are still caught up in the argument. Or discussion. Whatever it is.
Violet grabs my hand and drags me into a building. The door opens under her hands, luckily, and we dart down a hallway. Then another, until we find another exit onto a different street.
We call a car when we’re two blocks away.
“What did they mean about the trackers?”
She smiles. She actually doesn’t look that put off by it, which is an odd experience in and of itself. “Greyson tracks my phone. It didn’t work one time when I was abducted, so the other guys resorted to stronger methods.”
