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My eyes drift to the vases of roses around the room, and a strange warmth creeps over my chest. I know there are more important things to focus on, but I can’t understand why Judge would buy all of those.
“Does this have something to do with that weird tattoo on the back of your neck?” Georgie asks.
I stiffen at the mention of it, and they don’t miss it.
“It means something,” Solana agrees. “But you’ve never explained it.”
“Look.” I squeeze each of their hands in mine. “I am so sorry I made you worry about me. I truly didn’t mean to, and I feel terrible about that. If I could have contacted you, I would have. I’ve missed you both every single day, and it means so much to me to know that you care. But I can assure you I’m safe, and I’m not in the mafia.”
“Semantics.” Georgie rolls his eyes. “Whatever it is they call themselves these days. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Don’t insult us by lying to us.”
“I’m not trying to insult you,” I whisper. “I’m trying to protect you.”
They both frown, and I know that was the wrong thing to say. I work quickly to try to correct it.
“There’s a lot in my life you don’t know about, and I can’t explain. I wish I could, but it’s not safe for you to know these things. What I can promise you is that I’m okay here, and I just need to stay under Judge’s protection until things blow over.”
“When will that be?” Solana asks, the evidence of her hurt clearly written on her face.
I hate that I’m doing this to them. I hate that I can’t be honest with them about The Society, but it really is for their own safety. I don’t trust that Judge isn’t going to punish them if I make one wrong move.
“I don’t know just yet,” I admit. “But I swear to you, the moment I do, you’ll be the first to hear from me.”
“No.” Georgie shakes his head. “We need a line of communication with you. We aren’t leaving here until we have that.”
“We’re not waiting in the dark,” Solana agrees.
I swallow painfully, trying to figure out how I’m going to tell them that’s not possible, when Judge interrupts from behind us.
“She has a new phone,” he tells them. “You can text or call her on that number. I’ll give it to you before you leave.”
I glance back at him, my eyes searching his, but I can’t make out the motivation behind his concession. It feels too good to be true, but there is no sign of deception on his face.
“I don’t understand why she hasn’t had it this whole time,” Solana mutters. “But whatever. If you miss even one of my calls or texts, I’m coming to check on you. Let that be clear.”
Judge looks less than pleased with her threat, but he simply jerks his chin in agreement before gesturing to the dining room.
“Dinner is ready.”
6
Mercedes
With the assistance of a few more glasses of wine, we fall into a much less stilted conversation during dinner. Judge is mostly a silent observer from his seat, his fingers trailing over my shoulder as my friends pepper me with questions and then catch me up on the latest happenings in their own lives.
They explain how they’ve been trying to bring attention to my disappearance but have been blocked at every turn. Their inferences don’t escape my notice. If they didn’t believe I was connected to some type of powerful organization before, this seems to confirm it.
“I mean how the hell do the police just make something like that disappear?” Solana questions. “Then there are the lawyers. What kind of lawyer turns down money? And don’t get me started on the private investigators we hired. One of them just seemed to evaporate into thin air.”
I dart a glance at Judge, and he squeezes my shoulder in a silent warning that now isn’t the time to talk about that. He can’t seem to stop sizing up Georgie, and I know that’s what’s been on his mind throughout dinner as he observes us.
“How is business?” I ask Georgie and Solana, trying desperately to change the subject.
“Fine.” Solana waves her hand dismissively. “We’ve been too focused on you to worry about that.”
“When can we see you again?” Georgie meets Judge’s gaze as he directs the question to me. “Outside of this house. Everyone misses you at aerial class.”
Judge’s fingers stop moving against my shoulder, and I hate that I’m waiting for him to speak, but there’s no point in trying to supply an answer myself.
