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“My condo?” I stall.
I’m not sure I want him to know where I’m at; it’s a tossup with whether or not he’ll give me hell over it. Sometimes he can be more protective than Daphne.
A sigh. “Yes, Scar.” Another rapid knock. “Now open up before I drop this thing on my foot. I just hauled it up twenty friggin’ floors.”
I wince. “I’m not exactly…home.”
Silence. “You’re not?” He’s genuinely surprised.
“No, I…I’m gone.”
“Since when?”
“Since yesterday.”
“Hang on…” He pulls the phone from his ear and something rustles around. He then groans a long, relieving groan as the vase clangs against the floor. A sigh as he brings the phone back up to his mouth. “That vase is ridiculous. You’re gone?”
“Yep.”
“Can I just use my key, then?”
“Of course.”
A pause. “Scar?”
“Yeah?”
“Where the hell are you? You don’t sound right. And are there people in the background?”
I grimace before I say it. “McDonough?”
It takes him a second. “Is that like a new restaurant or something?”
“No…like the city of McDonough.”
His voice goes up an octave. “McDonough? Like, Henry County, McDonough?”
“Yes,” I reply sheepishly.
A gasp, horrified. “Ohmygod. You’re outside the perimeter? Have you been kidnapped?” His voice changes, like he’s now in a tin can. He put me on speaker phone. “I’m calling the police, honey. Tell me exactly where you are.”
I try not to laugh. “Stephen, I’m fine. No one kidnapped me.” Technically.
“So you went down there on purpose?”
“I did.”
“But why would you…” Another wind-sucking gasp. “Scarlett,” he chides. “You didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?”
“Jake Mitchell is from McDonough.”
Oh my God, seriously? How did he put that together so fast? Maybe I need him down here to help me. “Yes, he is.”
“How the hell did you go from crying into your tea after the meeting-gone-wrong to being in his hometown? Are you stalking him?”
I just let him ramble through his thought process, as he does.
