Out of Sight, Out of Time(51)

“Tell me, Zach.” I don’t know if it was the wind or the adrenaline, but I shivered. “And don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying!” he snapped, then took a deep breath. “Last summer, I did go looking for you. And when I couldn’t find you, I went looking for my mom. And that’s not exactly something I’m proud of.”

When I shivered again, Zach took off his coat and tried to slip it around my shoulders, but I pushed his arm away.

“Don’t,” I said.

“Listen to me.” He grabbed my arms, holding me there. “I couldn’t find you. And I will never forgive myself for that. Ever.”

Another car passed, and a new fear filled Zach’s eyes. The sun was coming up. Light crept over the horizon, and I didn’t want to think about the people who might be trying to find me—both the good guys and the bad. Zach must have thought it too, because he grabbed my hand.

“We’re getting you out of here.” He started to pull, but when we passed the opening of a narrow alley, I had to stop.

“This way,” I said, pointing down the dark path.

“No, Cam, you’re turned around. I followed you for six blocks, and I was the one who was conscious. Trust me, the safe house is—”

“I have to go this way,” I said and pulled harder, breaking free.

I don’t know how to describe it. I wasn’t in a trance, and I wasn’t afraid, but my feet were finding their own path as if pulled by some invisible string.

“Two. One. Nine,” I said, the words drifting through my mind.

“I don’t like this position, Gallagher Girl,” Zach said with a glance around the narrow space.

“Four. Seven. Six,” I went on.

“Come on. We’ve got to get you back to the safe house.”

“Two.” The word was barely more than a breath.

Zach reached for me, but my hand was already moving, reaching out for the wall on my left, fingers grazing over the mortar until I found a small steel door painted the same color as the stone. I pressed, and the tiny door popped open, revealing a key pad that was hidden inside.

I eased forward, needing to touch the pad, tap out a code I hadn’t realized I knew.

“Two-one-nine-four-seven-six-two,” I said again, and two feet away, a solid metal door opened like an entrance into another world.

I had to go inside. The door was like a magnet, pulling me close. But before I could cross the threshold, the whole world went upside down. Literally.

I was dangling over Zach’s shoulder, and he was bolting down the alley, cursing under his breath and warning me he wasn’t in the mood to fight.

“But Zach, I—”

“I don’t care,” he snapped.

He didn’t slow down when I yelled, “Zach, let me go!”

In fact, he didn’t stop at all until a tall figure appeared in the alley in front of us, and a voice said, “Cammie? Is that you?”

Chapter Twenty-five

The last time I’d seen Preston Winters had been the night his father lost the race for president—the night the Circle had come for me the second time. Or so I thought. As I slid from Zach’s shoulder and found my footing, something told me I might have been wrong about that.

When Preston sighed and said, “I guess you did come back,” I was certain.

Standing there in jogging pants and a T-shirt, with earbuds dangling around his neck, Preston looked taller and…well…hotter than I remembered. Despite the chilly air, sweat beaded on his neck. There was a subtle confidence about him, and something in the way he looked at me was enough to tell me that I was finally face-to-face with the boy who’d been by my side last summer.

“Thank goodness you’re okay.” Preston opened his arms and stepped toward me, but Zach lunged between us.