Out of Sight, Out of Time(52)

“That’s close enough,” he said, and Preston laughed.

Yes, actual laughage.

Zach, however, didn’t seem to think any of it was funny.

“Sorry,” Preston said after a moment. “You must be Zach.” He held out his hand. “I keep forgetting we haven’t been formally introduced. I’m Preston.”

But Zach just looked at the hand as if he couldn’t decide whether to shake it or break it, so Preston pulled it slowly back to his side.

“Cam told me all about you. But it looks like she hasn’t told you about me.” Preston gave an exaggerated sigh. “I guess the summer didn’t mean anything to you, Cammie. And here I thought I’d made an impression.”

There’s something about Preston Winters. He has a sort of self-deprecating manner that all really hot nerds are either born with or acquire over time. He laughed, and I waited for it to trigger some feeling inside of me; but the only memory that came had red-white-and-blue bunting and took place totally within the USA.

“So”—he reached for the door I’d just opened and started to walk inside—“I guess you remembered the code?”

I wanted to say something, to beg and plead for answers, but all I managed to do was shake my head and admit, “No. I really didn’t.”

He turned slowly toward me. Confusion filled his eyes. He didn’t look at me like I was crazy. He looked like he was scared.

Of course, it also could have had something to do with the armed man who was barreling down the alley, screaming, “Freeze!”

Zach was the first to react. In a flash, he was turning to me, yelling, “Run!”

He didn’t know that the man in the alley was Agent Townsend. He didn’t care that Agent Townsend was heading straight for him.

“Zach, no!” I yelled, then jumped in between the two of them. “Stop!” I cried, but Zach was already grabbing me around the waist and setting me in what he thought was a safer position.

“Ms. Morgan,” Townsend snapped. “Go!”

“You’re both telling me to run!” I screamed while Preston peeked out from behind the door to watch two highly trained fighters in their prime behave like a couple of idiots.

I don’t want to think about how long it might have lasted if it hadn’t been for the whistle. High and loud, it pierced the air and reverberated in the narrow space for what felt like forever.

Everyone turned and looked through the early morning haze at Bex, who said, “If you boys want to beat each other’s guts out, I’m willing to let you, but I’d rather get Cam someplace safe and find out what she’s doing walking the streets at five in the bloody morning.” She started back down the alley, then stopped and added, “Oh, and Zach, if you’re going to run away from school, leave a note. Even Cam did that.”

Abby was there, too, Macey by her side. I felt Townsend’s hand on my waist, pushing me down the alley and back to the safe house. Nobody seemed to notice or care about the other boy—the one in the corner, away from the chaos, until Macey stopped.

She didn’t sound like herself when she said, “Preston?”

I don’t know if it was because she was seeing him, or seeing him hot and sweaty (both in the literal and figurative senses), but I could tell she was thrown in a way no Gallagher Girl is ever supposed to be. “Preston, is that you?”

Then Abby was beside me. She looked from Preston to the buildings that surrounded us, as if trying to place something in her mental map.

“Is this…” she started, looking at the boy, who nodded slowly.

Somehow, Preston didn’t seem nearly as freaked out as he should have been when he told us, “I think we need to go inside.”

He didn’t ask for introductions. No one had to present clearance levels or ID. It was as if Preston knew that being in that alley at that moment meant that you were okay to invite home. Even when home was technically the United States embassy for the ambassador stationed in Rome.

So Preston didn’t hesitate. He just led our crazy band through the secret door, and then to another that cordoned off the hallway inside. He stopped to punch out the code my subconscious had remembered.

“You really ought to change that more often,” I said as the door popped open.

He smiled. “Will do.”

When we reached another door, Preston looked up at a surveillance camera that hung overhead. He gave his loopy grin and a small wave, and a second later, the door buzzed and a uniformed marine pushed it open.

“Welcome back, sir,” the marine said. If he was surprised to see Preston appear with three girls, a boy, and two grown-ups, he didn’t show it.