I stared at her. “I can’t leave without you.”
She gave me a sad smile. “There is no way out for me. Things have changed. I don’t belong out there. I’ve…done things.” Her gaze skittered away from mine, something like regret washing over her features, and I strained to hear her thoughts, but anything coming from her was lost in the noise.
Then her expression turned fierce. “But you need to leave. Ford is right. If I’m caught between two competing priorities, she’ll find a way in, and she’ll hurt you.” She checked her phone again, her posture determined, unyielding.
“I have a solution,” I said recklessly. Justine would kill me if she found out I’d been this direct.
Ariane froze.
“But not here.” I jerked my head up toward the ceiling and the security cameras overhead.
MEET ME AT HOLE IN ONE. BAGEL PLACE. TWO BLOCKS OVER AND THREE DOWN. TRACKER WON’T BE A PROBLEM. I focused on the words, picturing them flowing out from me to her, stock ticker style.
Ariane frowned, tipping her head to one side, as if hearing something just out of range.
Damn it.
Ariane. Did you hear me? Trust me. PLEASE.
Keeping her hand at her side, she flashed two fingers and then three rapidly.
Then she shook her head. “I’m done, Zane. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I hope you’ll take my advice. Go home, be safe, have a good life,” she said, louder than before and with the almost robotic inflection I’d come to associate more with Ford than with this girl.
Then she spun around, her hair flying out behind her, and headed back the way she’d come, moving without hesitation. At the last second, before she vanished around the corner, she signaled me with two fingers and then three.
That had to mean she was coming, right?
My heart crashing against the wall of my chest, I waited ten seconds, just to make it look good, like I was stunned by what she’d said. Some of it might not have been acting.
Then I pushed out through the west doors onto the sidewalk.
“Took you long enough.” Adam greeted me at the opening of the designated alleyway. The narrow gap between a bank high-rise and a rundown-looking restaurant offered a fairly invisible meet point. No security cameras, according to Justine, who’d done the recon. It also reeked of rotting grease and old food; nobody would be lingering any longer than necessary.
“Shut up,” I muttered. I slapped the phone into his hand, slowing down only enough to make sure he didn’t fumble it. I still had to cover a couple more blocks, and I didn’t want to risk Ariane arriving too much ahead of me and deciding not to stick around.
But Adam grabbed my shoulder with his free hand as I passed, his fingers digging in.
I shook him off. “What the hell, dude?” The leftover adrenaline and aggressiveness from my encounter with Ford rose to the surface in a heartbeat, and I clenched my fist.
“You want to go? Ready to take me on?” Adam sounded amused. “Thought you had better things to do today.” He was in a much better mood, for some reason.
“What do you want?” I asked through gritted teeth. I didn’t like Adam, never had. He enjoyed all of this too much. He and Ford were perfect for each other. God, there was a terrifying thought.
“The vitals monitor.” He nodded at my chest.
Reflexively, I clapped my hand over the black plastic triangle that clung tightly to my skin, thanks to about four pounds of adhesive on its reverse side. “They’re using the phones to track us, not these.” Supposedly. It was hard to know what information to trust. But Emerson had said nothing to me this morning about giving the vitals monitor to Adam.
Adam snorted. “Right.”
Okay, maybe he had a point. No matter what they’d told Emerson, it was better not to take chances.
I tugged down the collar of my shirt and flicked at the edge of the monitor experimentally. It was, as I’d suspected, pretty solidly attached. “We have to be careful. It might send off an alert if we mess—”
Before I could stop him, Adam reached over and ripped the leach free, along with a good chunk of skin, or so it felt like.
I shoved him, my eyes watering. “Asshole.” My chest was red and raw where the monitor had been, but it wasn’t openly bleeding, at least.
“Don’t be such a princess,” he said with a smirk as he tugged down his shirt and slapped it into place.
I held my breath, waiting for lights to flash or a beeping to emerge from beneath the fabric. How many seconds had been lost in the transition? Two, maybe three?
But nothing happened. On our end, anyway. Who knew what the Committee saw. Emerson wouldn’t be expecting to have to cover for that. Hopefully, if it was noticed at all, it would be written off as a random blip and nothing more.
If not, there wasn’t anything I could do about it now.
Well, there was one thing.
I hit Adam, my fist connecting hard with the side of his face.