Forbidden With Me - Leigh Lennon Page 0,73
renders my best friend speechless. I find this comedic and allow myself to laugh, really laugh. The past couple of weeks have been a shitstorm, and I can’t figure out at times which way is up and which way is down.
Kenzie’s phone beeps, and she pulls it from her jeans pocket since she never changed after leaving her assignment at the university. “Wells is on his way back to the station to chase a lead. For now, I’m here until he gets back.” Her eyes connect to Georgia.
“Oh, yeah, lucky me.” And I start to laugh again because, at this point, it’s not flirtation. I’m learning Kenzie loves to piss people off, and her attention is on Georgia.
When my phone pings, I think it’s Wells, and I laugh at Greenlyn’s name unexpectedly popping up on the text. Georgia leans over. “Who’s Greenlyn?”
“My roommate.” I yank the phone away from her and pull up the text message. What I see is a picture of Greenlyn next to a bloody body slumped over in a chair. I don’t recognize the person at first, but with the black slacks, and the gray jacket, I don’t have to see his face. I know who it is right away. I wince at the message that pops onto the screen.
Greenlyn: Obviously, I’m not your roommate, but if you know what’s good for you, you’ll figure out a way out of the good detective’s house, and that way, I’ll let your friend and the young detective go. It’s you I’ve wanted since the day that asshole saved you. But I want to cherish you.
The fish sticks and mac and cheese recoil in my stomach, and I’m left with so many questions. Why? Who? And why Stewart and Greenlyn?
I twist my body to Georgia’s. “Hey, let me show you where the guest room is, and we can send Kenzie to go get your suitcase.”
Georgia throws Kenzie her keys. “Might as well make yourself useful.” Georgia never means to do it, but she is an enigma, and men and women alike fall for her at the drop of a hat. Kenzie doesn’t question my friend, or the fact that Georgia had told us she’d not packed. Kenz grabs her keys, and we move toward the back of the house.
Pushing her in the guest room, she turns around quickly and precisely in her three-inch heels. “Whoa, girl, you better watch it,” she teases.
“Georgie, I need you,” I say, and I’m almost begging.
“Whatever, honey, you know this.”
I show her the text from the kidnapper. “They’re going to kill them.”
She doesn’t bat an eye. “What do you need from me?”
Me: What do you need me to do?
My heart is pounding a mile a minute, my hands are sweaty, and I almost drop the phone several times.
Greenlyn: Go out the back door, through the neighbor’s yard, and you’ll be picked up, and if I hear or see anything, just know, your roomie will not see another night.
His words are so final, and I think of how he took my family away from me.
“You track my phone and call 911 once we stop. That way, they can save us all.”
Georgia hugs me. “Fuck, I don’t like this, Malia. Not one bit.”
“I know, but if I don’t do this, they’ll kill Greenlyn and Stewart, and I can’t have anymore deaths on my conscience.”
“Maybe I should come with you, or follow you?”
This is Georgia. She’s one to go rogue just on pure principle. “Promise me, you’ll stay here.” I bring her back for a hug. “And I’ll be back by bedtime.”
Wells’s back door is odd, and it exits from the side of the house, so with Georgia keeping an eye out, I open the guest room window and sneak through the neighbor’s backyard.
I wait on the sidewalk of the busy street on the other side of Wells’s house. Many cars pass by me, and when a white van speeds by for the fourth time, it brakes immediately. Someone opens the door and grabs me, placing a hood over my face all in one fluid motion.
“It’s nice to see you again, my sweet Malia.” The voice is so familiar yet older. My nine-year-old mind tries to recall the pitch and tone, but I can’t, but it’s a distinct timbre which helps jar a little of the past.
“You’re trying to place me, aren’t you?” he asks.
I’ve seen enough cop shows to know I need to keep this asshole talking, and I ask, “I know you, don’t I?”
A hand