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“Sloane wouldn’t be able to create a weapon. That’s like…I don’t know what kind of specialty that requires, but Sloane is a cellular biologist. That has nothing to do?—”
“Weapons come in all types. Some people think Covid was a viral weapon that escaped.”
“Okay, well, then, she’d need to be a virologist, which she’s not.”
“Maybe. But something’s not right here.”
“No shit. I’m in a safe house.” A garbled sound comes across the line. “And I made out with Knox Williams.”
“And you said he’s still hot.”
“So hot.”
“Still has his hair?”
“Still there.”
“I want to join you. So I can see for myself you’re safe.”
“Just hang tight. If someone is out there watching you… Jesus, Jimmy, just stay safe, okay? I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of?—”
“Because of what, Sage? None of this is your fault. You recognize that, right?”
“I do, but…I keep thinking, what if that bullet had hit Knox? That would’ve been my fault.”
“How do you figure?”
“I involved him. Maybe I should’ve never come here.”
“Says the woman who has yet to see the charcoal remnants of her home. Look, just…what’s the plan? Have you talked to the school?”
“No, not yet. I’m hoping I’ll be back in time.”
“Will Knox come back with you?”
“No, his life’s here.” The side of my hand rubs up and down my sternum. There’s a rap on the door. “Come in.”
The door opens and the legend himself leans on the doorframe. “I’m whipping us up some breakfast. Anything you don’t eat?”
I always joke that I eat like a pregnant woman, steering clear of unpasteurized cheese, but I’m not about to say that to Knox after last night. “Hey, Jimmy?—”
“I heard. Go watch over the food preparation. Keep in touch, okay?”
“You stay safe, okay?” If something happens to Jimmy…I wasn’t exaggerating. I could not live with that.
“Call me back because I need to hear more about the sex!”
And it’s only then, for whatever reason, I remember I’m on a line that’s being monitored. That’s mortifying. The team listens. Christ on a cracker. “I’ll call you back. Love you.”
In the kitchen, Knox opens a crate of eggs. “How’s Jimmy?”
“Good. Scared for me.”
“Understandable.”
“Do you think he’s safe?”
“There shouldn’t be anything to gain from doing something to him.”
