Page 47 of Exit Strategy
“Yes, that is when they say we are at our most nubile. They like that word, nubile.” She rolled it around in her mouth like it was a foreign phrase.
“What does that make you?” I asked, hesitantly.
“Something like a near-barren hag. Couldn’t you tell last night?” She giggled a little.
“Well…” I wanted to make a joke, keep the mood light, but I stumbled to find anything suitable.
“It’s okay. I’m being a bit silly, sorry.”
“Please don’t apologize. Your smile and laughter are beautiful,” I said.
She let out a sigh, and her eyes seemed larger, dewy. Was that really a thing?
“Because of all the forged documents, and bribes, and all that,” she drew in a slow breath, “my ID card says I’m twenty-three. It is all a lie because I turned eighteen on my last birthday. In a few months, I’ll be a withered-up husk of nineteen years.”
“Twenty-three.” I shook my head.
“Surprise.” She smiled sadly.
“Oh, don’t make that face at me. You’re much too sweet for that sadness,” I said, and brushed some hair from her face.
“You’re the first person I’ve told, out loud.” There were the beginnings of tears in her eyes. “It means so much to me that you haven’t pulled away or grinned like a monster. Thank you, Kurt…”
* * *
We putAppalachia into the rearview and headed toward the coast, toward Maryland and Indigo City. I would have to make arrangements to see if the captain would meet me, and if he could help. If he would even bewillingto help. Surely, he would. That brunette had changed him, and maybe he would see that maybe, maybe Callie was doing the same to me.
My God, what was I thinking?
There was no way she would be willing to stay with me when this settled.
If this settled.
If I were still alive and not sitting in a federal prison.
16
Madeleine Oberisk…
The scene had been grim, and it looked bad. It looked really bad. The fact that Kurt wouldn’t answer his phone or texts made it look about as bad as something could look. The ambulance had come quickly enough, and Arik was whisked away to the hospital with a speed that would have put race car drivers to shame. It was a lot of show. He wasn’t injured, and there were barely any marks on him. Certainly less than should have been on a man who had been choked unconscious and put through a glass-top coffee table. The amount of blood was shocking. Whoever had been on the other side must look like a piece of road-rashed meat.
Calanthe was missing too.
When I dialed Kurt for the thirtieth time, the ringer went directly to his voicemail. I was going to have to start making serious calls. Where was Calanthe? Where was my head of security? Who choked Mister Hollywood action star out in his own living room, and whose blood was all of this?
What a fucking mess.
“Mackenzie, this is Obe. I’m in charge for the time being. I need you to run some checks, pronto,” I said, holding the phone to my ear and giving the room the most serious look that I could.
“What do you need and where is Worthington?”
“He’s MIA, and that is part of what you’re going to find out for me. I need a trace on his phone and see if you can ping the LoJack in his car. I want to know where he is.”
“I’m on it,” Mac said.
“Can you access the security system for the house remotely, or do we need to be in the panic room to do that?”
“Either. Panic room is easier, but if it’s locked, that’s an act of congress to get it to open from the outside, or you have to convince whoever is in there to open up,” she said.
