Page 79 of Give Me Peace

I stop short at finding Kash and Krew in a hushed conversation in the kitchen. I’m not sure what I should do—back away and leave them to it or clear my throat and make myself known—but my choice is made for me when Kash jerks his head and finds me creeping.

“Hi.” I wave. Wave. “I didn’t realize you were back.” I take a few steps, watching the two of them as they attempt to school their expressions into something opposite of what they’re actually feeling. It’s not difficult for Krew. He’s perfected that emotionless look he’s so fond of. Kash, on the other hand, isn’t quite as adept in the art of deception. Or maybe he struggles to hide himself from me.

“Just walked in. Want to raid Kade’s bedroom and hide all his underwear? I’m itching for some tomfoolery, Best Friend.” Kash rubs his hands together like an evil cartoon villain. I raise an eyebrow, convinced they’re hiding something. Kash always leans toward distraction, and his little plan reeks of it.

“Oh, no. He’s going to be so disappointed that he has to go commando,” Krew deadpans, looking pointedly at me. “What a blow that’ll be, brother.” I snort, even though the sexual innuendo makes my skin flush.

“Alright, out with it.” I cross my arms and tap my foot impatiently.

“We’re not keeping secrets, Tink. Just trying to get the facts straight first.” Krew laces our fingers together and spins me. I’m on his lap a second later, just like earlier in his office. Kash watches the two of us with an oddly pleased smile. “We haven’t been able to get Loch on the phone, and he’s the only one with a direct line to Denvers.” I stiffen, knowing the only reason they’d need to contact the FBI agent is because of Liam.

“I’m sorry, sweetness.” Kash kisses my forehead and slides a postcard from his back pocket. I take it, willing my hands to remain steady as I read it. ‘Oklahoma’ is written in bold white letters across the front, proclaiming it ‘The Sooner State’. I close my eyes and flip it over, knowing the hard part has yet to come.

In blood red ink, Liam states ‘I’m so close, I can almost taste you’—followed by a string of coordinates. Bile rises up my throat but I press my lips together, refusing to let the words of a psychopath hold so much weight. Maybe I should take them more seriously, considering I have firsthand knowledge of Liam’s deteriorating mental state, but I have something I didn’t before. Five something’s, to be exact, and they’ll never let him have me.

“I sent an email to Denvers, letting him know that Loch was away on business but I needed to speak with him urgently,” Krew tells me, placing his hand on my stomach once again. The contact is grounding, but I still jolt when Roan walks in. He picks up on my tense expression instantly.

“What’s wrong?” He erases the distance between us, his eyes falling to the postcard in my hand. “Fuck.” I slide it over so he can read it for himself. “This motherfucker is testing my sanity,” Roan spits, slamming it on the counter. I hate what that tiny rectangle represents. It’s a death note, signed and delivered to taunt and punish me for hiding. It’s the grave of an innocent woman who had the unfortunate luck of sharing features similar to mine and being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Krew’s phone rings, scaring me from my thoughts. I go to move but he tilts us and slips it from his pocket.

“This is Krew,” he answers, putting it on speaker and placing it between us.

“It’s Denvers. What’s going on?” It sounds like he’s in a tunnel.

“We got another one. Can I send a picture to the number you’re calling from?”

Denvers swears, his voice echoing just the slightest. “Yeah, send it on through. It might take me longer to get back with you, but I’ll fill you in as soon as I can.” Krew snaps a photo and attaches it to the message, watching the screen until it reads ‘delivered’.

“Understood.”

“How’s Saylor?” Denvers questions.

“Raisin’ Hell. Straight trouble, that one.” Roan chimes in with a smirk on his face. I glare and kick him in the shin. He hisses, rubbing at the battered spot, but we both know he barely felt it. His reaction is for my ego, not his.

“I’m fine. Thank you for asking,” I respond with a proper answer.

“Good. Don’t take any shit, sweetheart. Those men could do with being dropped down a peg or two.” I can hear him smiling.

“Men. We’re men, old man,” Kash snaps petulantly. “I took my vitamin gummies. I ate the nasty broccoli. These are man muscles, damnit.” I shake with silent laughter. This is not the time to be joking.

“Alright, big fella. You’re the manliest man the ever was.” Roan pats him on the back placatingly.

“Jesus, you guys are twisted,” Denvers comments. “Listen, keep your head up, Saylor. I know this isn’t easy. If you need anything, like a new place to live, send out the SOS and I’ll be there.” Their faces are perfect mirror images of displeasure. They obviously don’t appreciate his suggestion.

“Thank you for the time and work you’re putting in. I’m sure it’s not easy for you, either.” I can’t imagine chasing down one psycho, only for a new one to pop up right after. In Denvers profession, it’s never really over. There’s always a new case, ready and waiting. “As for the roommate situation, all’s good on that front. If anything changes, my code word is Peter Parker.” He laughs, but Kash scrunches his eyebrows together in confusion.

“Take care. I’ll be in touch soon.” Denvers ends the call, starting the clock on waiting game. I note the time on the stove is just past 2pm. It’s going to be a long day.

“Peter Parker?” Kash mutters, more to himself than me.

“Yeah, he’s the one they wave a bat signal in the sky for when someone needs saving, right?” I confuse the two superheroes on purpose, watching with glee as their brains implode. They’ve made me watch enough of those movies I couldn’t possibly mix the two up, but it’s fun to make them think that.

“I’m telling Loch,” Kash gasps in horror. “He’s going to be so disappointed in you.” I snort, turning to look at Krew.

“Do you have a map of the US?”

“I have a few, actually.” He slides us off the stool and heads for his and Kash’s office. We follow, patiently waiting as he searches through a few cabinets. He unrolls the biggest one he’s got and spreads it across his desk.

“Got any tacks?” I ask. Krew hands me a new package and I gesture to the wall to make sure it’s okay for me to hang it. He nods, so I place a pin in each corner to secure it, then add three more—one to each of the states Liam murdered an innocent woman in. Stepping back, I look at the zigzag his killing spree creates. It’s not a straight path or the easiest route to Florida, but why would he choose that when there’s a chance the FBI might figure out his next move.