One Second After Another (The After Another Series #3) - Bethany-Kris Page 0,22

response unfold in real-time in online forums and other venues.

If Allegra wanted attention from the media, then Penny could give it to her. It might not be the kind of attention her mother liked or wanted, but nobody said this would be fair.

Or easy.

Penny tried to keep it in mind.

“Still,” Jocelyn said, the shake in her voice clear to Penny even if the woman didn’t acknowledge it, “you can’t just show up whenever. At least give me a little warning.”

“So then I might give someone else a warning, too?”

“What?”

Penny lifted a brow. “Never mind.”

Jocelyn’s gaze darted back to the windows, and then she scanned the cafe around them, obviously looking to see if someone was watching them. It was then that Penny had a realization about the woman’s paranoia.

“You think someone is following you.”

It wasn’t even a question.

Jocelyn’s stare came back to Penny in an instant, and she shook her head. “I don’t see anyone but sometimes I notice similar cars, and familiar faces I can’t place. And—”

She stopped all at once.

Penny couldn’t have that. “And?”

“My door was unlocked yesterday. When I got home, I mean. I-I never ... ever ... leave it unlocked. I have a cat, I don’t want her getting out, you know? So, I leave it locked like the windows and—”

“I get it.”

“Is someone following me?” Jocelyn asked her.

Penny figured ... honesty was the best policy.

“Probably,” she replied. “Which is part of the reason I’m here. Just to tell you that your best bet is to get out of town for a while. Let things calm down—stay far away from any idea that you have a connection to me. Keep out of sight.”

Jocelyn’s dark stare burned bright with new anger. She even dared to lean closer to Penny over top the table when she said, “You didn’t tell me this was going to happen.”

What did she expect?

Penny handed her the story of a lifetime with the possibility of more should things go a certain way. Beyond that, she’d explained—or tried—the darker truth surrounding the situation and how it could be potentially dangerous to publish it.

“You didn’t ask,” Penny replied simply. “But yes, I knew it was a possibility that ... someone ... might track you after publication just to see if they could connect you to me in some real way. It’s nothing personal, just business. They want to find me. You could be a means of doing that which is why I just told you to get out of town. Everyone has sacrifices to make to get a job done, Jocelyn. Even you.”

Even if the journalist was the sacrifice Penny made.

So be it.

Sometimes, it had to be done.

Penny stood from the table, having said what she needed to, as Jocelyn asked her, “But ... what am I supposed to do now?”

Over her shoulder, as she walked away, she said to the woman, “I told you—run.”

THE WIND WAS WORSE next to the river. Yet, Penny didn’t move as she waited for the call to be picked up. With the phone pressed to her ear, she watched the movement on the Hudson from the safety of the shadows she had found.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait for long.

“Marcel speaking—”

“Do you remember that time I overlooked your side business with that friend from Canada, so it wouldn’t get back to Dare when we were doing that job last year?” Penny asked the hacker as soon as he picked up her call. Considering he wasn’t supposed to do any side business at all outside of The League for reasons related to the entire reason for him becoming a member ... she knew that was the best place to open their conversation.

“Penny.”

“One and only.”

Marcel paused just long enough to mutter, “I do remember that time, yes. One favor. That’s all you get, though.”

“Fair enough. It’s all I really need.”

And if Marcel was willing to do it, then that’s all Penny cared about. He would be putting a lot on the line to help her in any way—even if he didn’t realize he would be helping her against their own people—and The League wouldn’t take kindly to that. If they found out, of course.

Computer keys clicked fast in the background. Penny wasn’t stupid—she knew what the man was doing. Or, she was pretty sure.

“Are you trying to trace me?” she asked.

“Trying,” he admits. “Kind of part of my job right now. No offense.”

“Of course, but I’m using a burner, and it’ll be at the bottom of the Hudson when this conversation