“Some local music festival that’s happening downtown. Arrow and Killer wanted to check it out, and I said I’d come.”
Vibrations run through the floor, and I glance down the hallway to see who it is. Killer waves as he approaches us, his typical dorky grin on his face. “You like it?” he asks, pointing to the phone still in my hand.
I return the grin. “I love it.”
Killer pulls me away from Jace and into a tight hug. I feel slight vibrations in his chest as he chatters away, but as usual, he doesn’t seem to notice or care that I can’t read his lips while smushed against him. He finally releases me and holds me at arm’s length.
“Sorry you can’t come with us today,” he says. “You must be going crazy being cooped up in here.”
I hold up the phone. “I’ve got this to keep me entertained. I’ll be fine.”
Jace raises his hands and signs, “I put my personal cell number in your contacts, so if anything happens while we’re gone, just call.”
“Thanks,” I sign. “But I’ll make sure nothing happens. I’m just going to keep lying low.”
Jace nods and offers an encouraging smile. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. No one should come in here while I’m gone.”
Killer glances between us, a perplexed look on his face. He looks kind of like a lost puppy dog, with his head tilted to the side and his brows furrowed in confusion.
“You guys are making me feel left out with all this code talk,” he says.
“It’s not code,” I protest. “It’s ASL.”
“You’ve got a freaking code name for it. How is that not code?” Despite his words, there’s an amused glint in his eyes, and I know he’s just teasing.
Reaching up, I feel the smile on my lips and try not to show my surprise. I haven’t smiled this much in years. For just a moment, part of me tries to believe that everyone was right when they said I was crazy, and that Jace and Tone Deaf and my escape are all part of some hallucination. But the other part of me knows that can’t be right—this kind of happy doesn’t come from any sort of delusion.
I hold up my new smartphone. “So . . . do you think it’d be safe to text Avery?”
It’s been a full week since I left, which should mean it’s safe to contact her directly. I’m sure my dad has already questioned her, and at this point, he’s probably given up on getting answers out of her. I know there’s still a chance contacting Avery could get her in trouble, but just staring at her number makes my chest hurt. I can’t leave her to panic over me for any longer—it just wouldn’t be right.
Jace shakes his head and signs, “It’s probably not a good idea. If anyone figured out you were texting her, it’d be too easy to track you from that phone.”
“Oh.” I try to keep the disappointment out of my voice, but I’m pretty sure I fail.
Jace fishes in his pocket and pulls out a small, cheap-looking cell phone. “But I thought you might want to talk to her. So Killer had the idea of getting this one, too.”
He hands the other phone to me, and I brush my fingers over the flimsy keypad, trying not to let any confusion show on my face. It’s not like I’m expecting Jace to spend a lot of money on me, but this is a strange contrast to the smartphone.
Killer taps my shoulder, gaining my attention. “It’s a disposable cell phone,” he explains. “Totally untraceable. You can text your friend using it, and as long as you don’t say where you are, no one can use it to find you.”
I clutch the disposable phone close to my chest. It suddenly feels like a better present than the smartphone.
“Thank you,” I say to Killer. Then I turn and grin at Jace. “I totally owe you.”
He shrugs, but he looks away for a moment, and I know he’s hiding a smile. “You don’t owe me anything,” he signs as he turns back. “You’re obviously close to your friend. You should be able to talk to her, whether you’re on the run or not.”
I nod and sign, “It means a lot. Thanks.”
Before the moment can get any more sentimental, Jace nods toward the exit of the RV and nudges at Killer. “Come on,” he says. “Arrow’s going to be pissed if we’re late.”
Killer heads toward the door and says over his shoulder to me, “You stay low, darling. I’ll see you later.”
Jace pulls me back into a quick hug and then signs, “I’ll be back this evening, okay?”
“Have fun,” I sign.
He gently kisses the top of my head and then points to my phone. “You, too.”
I smile at his back as he strides out the door. The moment they’re gone, I sit on one of the couches and flick open the disposable phone. Taking a shaky breath, I quickly enter in Avery’s number and start typing out a message. How mad is she going to be? I’ve had a perfectly good reason for not contacting her directly—with my dad’s experience as a cop, it’s just too likely that he’d find a way to fish info from Avery. Despite that, I can’t even imagine how upset she is right now.
I make my text simple: Hey.
Her reply comes only seconds later. whoever u r, u’d better have a good reason 4 waking me up this early.