Delinquents Turned Fugitives - Ann Denton Page 0,20

had a new set of burners ready for tomorrow depending on how everything went tonight. Based on how everything was going down, I had a gut feeling that we’d need the new phones.

I opened my text app and it was completely empty. I didn't have texts from any of the guys. I didn't know if they were in place, setting up their own alibis.

I texted Malcolm—aka Gamer on the phone. He sent a quick text picture back of sitting around at a game cafe. He was playing with strangers, not Z. His text read, -Hey Stormy. Miss you. Just playing a round of Catan. Can't wait to see you!-

I grinned down at the picture. Even though Malcolm didn't know any of the people he was sitting with at the game cafe, they'd all raised their hands to wave at me in the picture. That was sweet. I also laughed because the fucker had made me worry about blowing off steam. And there he was in a nerd’s paradise, using plastic figurines to decimate someone else’s pretend army.

But where was Z? They’d left together.

I texted Z (aka Spaz because Andros had picked that name for him) next. I didn't get a text back. Instead, to my surprise, I got a video call.

Zavier's face filled the screen. His eyebrow quirked and his voice slurred. It was instantly obvious that he was drunk. "Hey! How come I’m not getting texts first?" A finger jabbed at the phone to scold me and accidentally hung up on me.

I stifled a laugh when a video call rang on my phone seconds later.

"Yes?" I answered, when Z's face popped up again.

"Gamer texted and says he's your favorite," Z pouted, jutting out his lower lip in an expression I’d come to love because it was equal parts exasperating and adorable.

I laughed. "He’s a troublemaker."

The phone shifted over to Z’s shoulder as he shifted in his chair. I could see he was sitting at a bar, a neon sign lighting the wall behind him. If the beer light behind him was any indication, he’d gone into a norm bar instead of a magical one. That was probably a good idea since magicals also typically got drunk on whatever potion the bartender specialized in, so their memories would be unreliable at best. Alcohol was much less potent. I saw Z take a sip of his beer and raise the glass in my direction. Clearly, his fake ID had worked. “To winning. And to me kicking Gamer’s ass.”

I smiled and shook my head. “Thirty minutes, okay?”

He blew me a big kiss. Then he leaned over to the guy next to him. “My girlfriend’s trying to convince me to leave. But I’m playing hard to get.”

“Man, get your hands off me!” The other guy shoved Z back and the phone cut off as he hung up on me.

Shit. I hoped that wasn’t the start of a bar fight, though that was one way to ensure Z had a memorable alibi. Not the way I would have chosen but... guys. Ugh.

I left the bathroom and met Gray outside, where he was leaning casually against the wall with his jacket draped over his arm. He’d unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and his bowtie dangled casually over his shoulder. I was struck for the millionth time by how handsome he was. He tucked me under his arm and kissed my forehead.

"All better?" he asked as he led me through the lobby.

I knew he was asking about my mom, Tia, and the guys. "Not a hair out of place," I responded with the code phrase we’d come up with, though my eyes told him I was lying. Then I gave a broken laugh.

He ran a hand over his hair. "Hey, I’ve got you." He pressed the elevator button and then leaned down for a kiss.

I gave him one, and not just because an older couple was watching from the couches nearby. I kissed him because I wanted comfort in that moment. I needed it. Otherwise, I was going to freak out and sob right here in the lobby. And while that would be memorable, I wasn’t supposed to know what was going on at the Pinnacle right now. I wasn’t supposed to be aware that my mom and Potts might be lying dead on the grass—I cut that thought off as a mental image of their lifeless faces popped up inside my head.

A tear I didn’t mean to let escape trickled down my cheek