Page 9 of Our Little Secret
“But you are now?” Skepticism tinged his voice.
“Yes.” No hesitation. The time was right.
More seconds passed, and she watched a jet rising in the sky before he said in a low voice, “I think this is a mistake.”
“Please, Gideon, don’t go there. Okay?”
“So, I have no say in this?”
She didn’t answer. Shouldn’t have to. If either of them wanted out, it was unwritten, unspoken, that the other would acquiesce. That had been their deal from the start. If not said aloud, at least inferred.
“Goodbye, Gideon.”
She cut the connection.
It was over.
At least for her.
All of the tension drained from her body and she rested her head on the steering wheel.
The burner phone rang in her hand and she saw his number flash onto the screen.
Ignored it. Adjusted the air-conditioning. Watched as the jet, leaving contrails, disappeared. The phone stopped ringing.
Less than a minute later another call came in, the disposable phone again ringing insistently, Gideon’s number again visible.
Nope.
“Take a hint,” she said as if he could hear her, then rolled down the window. As she switched off the engine, she heard the ding of a text coming through.
She glanced at the burner phone.
No message.
But her cell, mounted on the dash, was lighting up with a text.
We need to talk. In person. Face-to-face.
“Shit.” He’d contacted her on the phone that was supposedly off-limits, the one connected to her family plan with her husband and daughter. Though the call came through marked “private caller,” she knew who was on the other end of the connection.
Her heart froze.
Gideon was never supposed to contact her on that phone. Not ever. He knew that. It was one of their rules.
But you broke the rules first, didn’t you? By breaking it off.
Nervously, she punched in his number from her burner phone. Waited. Counting the rings.One. Two. Three. Four.He wasn’t picking up. “Come on. Come on.”Five. Six. Click!
Fine. She’d leave him a blistering message and opened her mouth to speak, then decided against it and hung up.
A text message came through—on her cell:Face. To. Face.
“Crap!”
Once more she tried him on the burner phone and glanced through the windshield, squinting against the glare.
Marilee seemed to be completing her routine on the beam, working on her dismount. Marilee, who was on the cusp of womanhood. Emotional. Impressionable. Like Allison Carelli or Penelope Williams. Young girls gone missing. Her heart twisted. What if that happened to Marilee?
