Chapter 11
I kick up my feet and stare at my tablet screen with a wry little smirk.
"Yet again, Katherine," I say, "you are a genius."
"You flatter me, Jake," she replies with a heavy dose of sarcasm. "You're pretty good yourself. You might actually be learning something."
"Shut up," I respond with a stupid grin. She's cute. I kinda wish the whole remote-dating thing had lasted more than 2 weeks between us, but it was clear from the beginning there was someone else on her mind, and I'm now firmly in the dreaded friend zone.
"So what does your boyfriend think of all this?" I ask, referring back to a previous topic of the conversation.
"Piotr?" She grins helplessly. "I think he was as freaked out as I am, to be honest. But he's good now."
"Great."
"Speaking of," she continues with a frown, "I gotta call him. You think you're gonna be okay monitoring that tracker?"
"Look, I know you have about zero faith in me, but the whole baby steps thing… seriously not needed anymore. I'm fine. You do what you haveta."
"Okay, cool." She smiles. "Nice talking to you again, Jake."
"You too. See ya."
I hit the 'End call' button and get back to work.
A couple of minutes later Anna steps into the conference room. She looks… out of it. Not really there. I watch over the top of my tablet as she drifts past the table and over to the window, barely stopping along the way to place her phone on the table.
"Katherine was on just now," I inform her, when she says nothing. "She had some good news."
"Oh?" she says disinterestedly. Her attention appears to be on a bird twittering on a bush in the courtyard, but I can't really tell.
"Yeah. She's pregnant. The father's that Rasputin guy she's seeing. I think it was unplanned."
That has her attention. She spins round to me, and I can't tell if she's angry or confused or surprised or what.
"That's… not possible," she says the one thing I wouldn't have expected.
"Um… Okay. If you say so."
She turns back, distracted. It hasn't escaped my notice that she hasn't been herself lately. Things have been weird the past couple of weeks between her and Remy, and it's been freaking pissy. When Remy had first mentioned Anna to me, I hadn't quite expected what I'd seen. For some reason I'd imagined some buxom bombshell with huge tits. And don't get me wrong, Anna is objectively hot, but… she's intense. Intense in a way I don't get at all. Remy's the same, but he can switch off on the throw of a dime. Anna… I don't think she ever switches off. I never know what she's thinking.
"So, um…" I decide to change what has obviously become a weird subject, "me and Katherine managed to get a bead on Logan's position. You wanna take a look?"
A part of me expects her not to have heard, but she comes over and sits down next to me. I show her the map with a flick at my screen.
"He hasn't moved much," she observes.
"Nope," I agree. "Looks like he's hunkering down for some reason. Might be he has to wait for something to line up before he makes his move. Whatever that is."
"He's heading south," she says adamantly, her usual business-tone back in force.
"Yeah, but for what?"
"I'm not sure yet." She stares at the screen, thoughtful. "You think we can contact him?"
I scoff.
"Of course we can contact him. But why would you want to do that right now? We don't have anything to work with…"
"How can we contact him?"
I roll my eyes and get rid of the map screen.
"He's running his own VPN," I explain, as I search for the right window. "But Katherine and I managed to run a tracker on him. I just managed to hack into it. There are some parts he's blocked off, but I can run a code, open up a chat box on his screen." She looks disbelieving, and, piqued, I start typing in the code and set it to run. A chat box opens up on my screen. "See?" I say. "Type something, hit enter – whatever you write will pop up on his screen. He won't be able to shut it down until you do."
I exit the program and navigate back to the map screen.
"But I figure we'll wanna work out what his end game is before we risk contacting him," I conclude.
Anna is quiet a moment.
"His endgame is just to figure out his past."
"You know what I mean," I say. "We want to know where he's going and how he figures he's gonna get there."
She's thoughtful, like nothing I just did fazed her. At least Remy has the good grace to pretend he's impressed by my shit. Anna though… she just acts like she ain't heard a thing I said. The silence drags out to the point it's uncomfortable.
"So, you heard from Remy?" I try to make small talk. Remy's out on some job in Rotterdam, and I am so fucking glad he's gone. He'd got insanely salty about Wisdom's assignment, and had refused to have anything to do with it, which I could get, and made sense as far as it went… But then he'd pretty much gone on and stuck his nose into every single damn aspect of the mission, to the point where I could literally sense him trying not to micro-manage it. As soon as the Rotterdam job had come up, I'd basically shoved it into his face.
"You need to do this," I'd told him. "You need to get away from England for a couple of days. And stop worrying about Anna," I'd added sternly.
I'm not sure he'd liked it, but he'd gone anyway.
"Yeah," Anna is saying. "He called this morning."
The words are non-committal. Maybe she's about as happy to be rid of him right now as I am.
"Are things… okay right now? Between you and Remy?" I ask the dumbest question I can. She looks up at me with this suspicious stare.
"Why wouldn't they be?" she asks.
"I dunno." I shrug. "You've both been weird lately. Remy I can get… he's so fucking jealous of Wisdom… And you…"
"And me?" she raises a sceptical eyebrow. She snatches the tablet from me, and the way the conversation's going, I don't think I can stop her.
"Well. I dunno. You've seemed kind of out of it since 'facing with all that Jean Grey stuff."
She freezes momentarily, but she does an admirable job of acting unconcerned, scrolling through my tablet doing God knows what.
"I'm fine," she replies nonchalantly. "It's just… been a while since I did this kind of thing. Taking on identities… wearing personas… it does a number on your neural networks…"
She trails off. I haven't really got a clue what she's talking about.
"Uh huh?"
"Yep."
"I guess Remy is kinda worried about that?" I venture to ask.
She pauses in her scrolling and looks at me again.
"I was… in a bad place when I met Remy," she explains, carefully choosing her words. "I guess he worries I'll end up going back there."
An awkward silence follows, and she turns her attention back to whatever it is she's doing. In all the months I've known her now, this is the most real she's ever been with me. Remy's far from an open book, but he's good at giving the impression he is. He's an ass, but we have this good thing going. Anna is… she's all smoke and mirrors, hidden angles. Never gives you a damn thing to work with. It's the kind of shit I can't stand... But then I think about Remy, that one night after he'd broken up with Lila. I'd taken him out with the express purpose of getting him drunk so that he didn't have to think about the split… And that's the first time he'd mentioned Anna. Lord, had he mentioned her. By the end of the night I'd known everything about her from the colour of her eyes to the way she sucked him off. TM-fucking-I, I'd thought. Until I'd actually met her and realised that I didn't even know even a fraction of what I thought I did.
All right, so she wasn't my cup of tea. But as soon as she'd arrived, Remy had been over the moon. Happy in a way I'd never seen him before. He didn't want to go out boozing or hustling at the casino anymore. All he wanted was to be with her. Looking at her. Touching her. It had been a living nightmare for a while; but I'd finally got round to understanding why Lila had never quite cut it for him. Anna had derailed the happy-go-lucky dynamic of my relationship with Remy for a while, sure, but at least he hadn't been a complete ass to work with. Now that things are suddenly weird between him and Anna, things have got uncomfortably awkward.
For some reason, it prompts me to take pity on her.
"He loves you, you know," I say.
She pauses. She drops her hand and gazes at me with surprise. Her expression looks so disbelieving, I'm impelled to defend myself.
"Don't look at me like that. He told me. It was fucking embarrassing. He'd just broken up with his girlfriend, and I was just trying to, y'know…" I shrug helplessly, "make him feel better about things. He got so drunk, he started talking about his feelings. And you were about the only damn thing he talked about."
A shadow of a smile touches her lips, and a bit of the old Anna who first came along and gate-crashed Gavin & Lord is back.
"His girlfriend?" she queries, too modest to ask what he'd said about her, too curious to let the subject of Lila lie.
"Yeah," I say. "Some singer he met down the Roundhouse club. Don't tell me he hasn't talked about her."
She's a little more relaxed, a little more loosened up. She smirks.
"I mean… yeah, a little. He told me they were together up until 4 weeks before we hooked up again… That if I'd timed things a little earlier, he would've been put into a shitty position…"
"Pfft." I wave my hand dismissively. "If those two had been together when you showed up again, it's pretty obvious which way things would've gone."
"Really?"
"Uh huh. He would've cheated on Lila and then chosen you."
She screws up her mouth like she doesn't like the sound of that.
"Then… I'm glad things happened the way they did. I've never liked the idea of being the 'other woman'." She flicks absently at the screen, continues thoughtfully, "Honestly, when we hooked up again back in New York… I wasn't even sure he'd want to see me. It'd been over a year… So much had happened… And when we'd last been together, things had been… complicated."
She looks up at me over the tablet, as if seeking permission to continue. I raise an eyebrow at her, which I guess is prompt enough.
"I walked away from him," she explains, lowering her eyes again, like she finds the idea of it shameful. "I needed to come to terms with myself."
I ask her the only question I can.
"And did you?"
She looks hesitant.
"I… Yes. I did."
"You don't sound too sure."
She can't look at me.
"Are we ever sure about ourselves?" She mulls on the question a few moments, before adding: "I guess I came to terms with my past. Now I need to come to terms with who I am now. I… I'm not sure that Remy will like the thing that I am."
For the first time I see her looking vulnerable, confused. Suddenly the indomitable Anna is human, and I'm weirdly touched.
"Well," I say, "if what you're thinkin' is that you don't measure up to his ex, then I don't think you've gotta whole lot to worry about." She looks up at me sharply, maybe surprised that I'm actually trying to lift her spirits. "Look," I continue. "Let's just say I never caught him and Lila having at it in the office. Twice. You two are so gross, you know that? I mean, there are some things I can't unsee, and I know how it gets when you just literally can't keep your hands offa someone, but… Really? Couldn't you guys have at least remembered to lock the fucking door?"
The reminders are enough to get her laugh, long and loud – so gleefully that I'm instantly peeved just on principle.
"You laugh now, but I had nightmares after the first incident," I grumble. She, however, is unrepentant, still chuckling uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry," she manages to gasp eventually. "I was just—"
"Don't say it." I hold up a hand. "I really don't wanna know. It's traumatic enough reliving it."
A mischievous twinkle lights her eye.
"You thought we were fighting, as I recall."
"I heard stuff falling over!" I defend my very correct sense of logic. "I thought you were throwing shit at each other! Goddamnit!"
Her chuckle is positively wicked now. What the hell. At least she's in a better mood now. She begins tapping on the screen with a wide smile on her face.
"When there's something Remy wants," she begins cryptically, "it can be hard to say no."
"Yeah," I mutter grumpily to myself, remembering the time he'd sweet-talked me into picking up some of his shit from Lila's place. "I know."
She's still typing away mysteriously.
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask her.
She doesn't say anything; just swivels round the tablet and shows me.
There's a chat box open and I read the first line.
Dr. Grey to Mr. Howlett.
I sit up straight and grab the edge of the table.
"What the fuck?!" I glare at her. "You just went and contacted him?!"
"Might as well get this ball rolling, right?" she answers.
I pull a face, not knowing what my expression implies. There's a bit of time gap between her message and the next. I read on.
Who is this?
Dr. Grey.
There's no response. I stare up at her narrowly.
"Jesus Christ, Anna. I thought we were gonna confer before we even approached him, and—"
A reply suddenly blinks up on the screen.
Prove it.
My mouth drops and Anna sees it. She shifts her seat so that we can both see the screen.
"See?" I say accusingly. "He wants you to prove it. What are we gonna do now?"
Anna is stoic. She reaches out and begins to type.
"Wait – what the hell are you—"
I try to bat her hands away, but she shifts the tablet further away from me.
"Trust me, Jake," she says, with a firmness that belies an innate sense of control. I chafe under it, but for some reason I stay silent as she types in her response.
A Rose by any other name…
Meaningless words, but I suppose they're meant to be, to me anyways. I frown. There's no reply.
"See?" I complain belligerently. "You should've just left it!"
Right on the tailend of my sentence, and Logan appears to be typing. A second later and:
What do you want?
Anna and I stare at each other. We know what we want. A location. But we can't come right out and say it.
"So how're we gonna play this angle?" I murmur.
Anna thinks a good long moment, and then begins to type again.
Not safe to talk here. Wisdom is tracking both of us. Abandon this server. I'll find you.
She exits the program, and the chat box disappears.
She stares at the screen, and I let out a long, pent-up breath.
"He bought it," I whisper.
"No," she says grimly. "He didn't."
"He didn't?"
Her mouth twists into a cynical grin.
"He's Weapon X. He didn't buy it." She sends me a sideways glance. "But he's curious. And he wants to know more. That's the hook we'll catch him with. Hopefully."
She stands.
"I dunno," I return dubiously. "It sounds kinda dangerous to me."
"It is dangerous," she replies. "It was always gonna be."
She suddenly puts a hand to her forehead, like something is paining her.
"You okay?"
"Yes," she says, dropping her hand swiftly, like it's no big deal. "I guess we should report this to Wisdom. You wanna do that for me?"
"Why don't you?" I can't help but answer sourly. "It's obvious he'd rather hear from you."
She laughs lightly.
"I'm not about to give Wisdom anything he wants." She ponders a second. "But I guess I can do the report. I did just make double work for you after all. You're gonna have to track him again."
"Right," I grouse. "Thanks for that."
"I'm sure you and Katherine can work something out." She heads for the door.
"Where're you going?"
"I need to work some things out. I want to know where Logan's headed. And I need to get into Dr. Grey's headspace." She looks like she has a battle ahead of her, and I don't get it. The way she's pulled off this shit before has been seamless. "Say hi to Katherine when you see her," she says quietly. "And… congratulations."
"Sure."
She opens the door, and suddenly adds: "Oh. And thanks, Jake."
"For what?"
"For telling me what I needed to hear."
And she's gone.
-oOo-
"Hello, Mr. Howlett," I say.
He's pacing the room like a caged animal, and I hear the waver in my voice as I greet him.
He's like an animal sometimes, smelling, sensing fear. He pounces on it like a lion. He hears it now – he stops short and spins round on me, his eyes wild and bright.
"We ain't doin' this today, doctor," he growls at me. "I ain't in the fuckin' mood!"
He kicks at the side table, sending sensor pads leaping off onto the floor. I realise I'm pressing myself up against the door.
"Why not?" I ask him as calmly as I can.
And that's when he comes for me, moving so fast across those few metres between us, like a cheetah closing the gap between its prey. He doesn't touch me. He knows better. There are cameras on us, security is watching. But he gets close enough to be threatening, for my heartbeat to race and my cortisol to spike.
"I knew a kid like you once," he seethes at me. "And I see her every fuckin' time you hook me up to that thing!"
I've seen this before. Rages at memories that can't be changed. Fury at immutable sources of guilt. His anger is nothing special.
"What was her name?" I ask him softly. Is my voice still shaking? I can't tell.
His eyes suddenly dim, and his expression drops. All in a split second he whirls away from me, falling once more into an agitated pace.
"Rose," he mutters. "Her name was Rose. Dumb kid. Just like you."
"Did you kill her?" I ask; and he stops dead in his tracks. He turns slowly to face me and this time his expression is truly terrifying.
"I ain't gonna have your blood on my hands," he answers in a roundabout way. "I'm tellin' you somethin', Red – you wanna live, you wanna live with yourself after all this is over, you get outta here. You get outta here while you still can. Before you get eaten alive."
Can I? Can I walk away? I've thought about it, just throwing in the towel, handing in my notice… But I came here to help people, didn't I. Can I really walk away from those kids downstairs and still sleep at night?
I'm helpless. I can't change a thing. But if I stay... I might be able to. One day.
I think he sees the indecision in my face.
"We're done here, kid!" he growls at me. "No mind games today, doc. You go pull your psycho-analysis crap on somebody else. You're wastin' your time with me!"
I stand by the door. I could warn him. Should I warn him? What would he do? I know what he's capable of. Would he kill us all?
I fight with my conscience. I'm on over my head. What can I do? I'm not a fighter. I have no resources. And their eyes are always on me. Fraternising with patients outside of this building... it isn't allowed... If I try to warn him... They'll know.
I glance up at the camera on the wall.
"Logan..." I begin to say; but he's already back up in my face, screaming:
"Didn't'ja hear me, Red?! Get. Out!"
I don't move, and he slams his fist into the door beside my head, making me jump.
He means it. And I'm helpless. Indecisive. Damn my conscience! I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do!
He's looking up at me like he's really starting up for a fight. Murder is swimming in his eyes. He's right. I can't change him. It's too late.
I press open the door and I turn. I take the easy way out.
I leave.
-oOo-
I walk out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam and fragrance.
I feel awful and I sit on the edge of the bed, rubbing my face with the heels of my palms, trying to get Dr. Grey's latest flashback out of my head.
Why won't this just go?
I faced far worse than this before… and even then my mind was on the verge of breaking down… It'd taken Essex's gene therapy to feel normal again… …
No, no, I think despondently to myself. I've never 'faced with anything worse than this…
I suddenly wish I had Dr. Braddock's prescriptions again, but she's still thousands of miles away and I consider contacting Raven and getting something put together for me, but… … The effort seems more than I can handle. Raven's concern is a hundred times more than I can handle right now. I end up popping some painkillers, and busy myself drying my hair. I stare at myself in the mirror. I feel unreal. I feel like somebody else's fever dream.
It hasn't helped – being here, in Remy's apartment, all alone. He anchors my presence here. Without him, this feels less like my place than it had before. I'd stared at our clothes lined up in the closet. Our toiletries in the bathroom. My perfume standing next to his aftershave. His paintings on the wall. My pile of books in the corner.
Resentment and something else had swelled in me. That lonely, grasping feeling; this desire for more. I want to be with him… but I don't know how. I don't know how this is supposed to be, how I'm supposed to integrate my life with his. I try to remember how it was with Cody… but things were different then. He'd been patient, and attentive… giving me all the space I'd needed. And I'd been pretty much a blank slate, and eager to learn. He was what I'd needed, back then. Is Remy what I need right now?
I turn off the hairdryer and set it aside, frowning to myself in the mirror.
I think the problem is, I don't know what I want right now. Being with Remy is passionate and wild and loving; but is the life he's built here in London, with Gavin & Lord, really what I want? And if it is, how do I make it mine? I feel like an interloper, like somebody who just walked in on his life and disrupted everything. Ruined his relationship with Jake. Butted in on his work life. Dumped all her stuff in the empty spaces of his place, in the spaces another woman once occupied. There's only one life I've known, and that's Weapon Zero – and the emptiness I went through trying to escape her. I'm different now… But how am I supposed to know what it is that I – Anna Raven – truly wants?
A blip sounds on my tablet, rousing me from my thoughts. I walk over to the desk and look down at the screen.
There's a chat box in the corner, a single line written inside.
Mr. Howlett to Dr. Grey.
I'm stunned. He wasn't supposed to have contacted me first.
How did you find me? I type.
There's hardly a delay in response.
Same way you found me. Weapon X tech. But you know that already, don't you.
I grimace to myself.
Yes, I type. I hold my breath. I wait.
Your location says you're in England. How do I know you're not just working for Wisdom.
I don't need to think.
I tracked you to England. Seems you left before I could find a way to infiltrate Wisdom's outfit.
That's BS. You're not one of us.
'Us'. I know what he implies by that word. The 1%. The ones who didn't die. I swallow hard.
I could tell you I am, I type. But I can't prove it to you, except that I should be dead, and I'm not.
He goes silent for a long time. I check my phone, I read Remy's last message. Five minutes later, and I hear another blip; I head back to the desk.
What do you want? it says. At least I've thought about this question already.
I want what you do. To find my past.
And what makes you think I can help you?
We were close once. You're the only one I can trust.
We weren't close.
He's still suspicious. Of course he is.
You're the only one I remember that I was ever even remotely close to, I answer.
Another long silence. This time I wait it out.
I can't help you, Dr. Grey.
Maybe not. But I think you know where I can go to get help. I hit the Enter button, and wait a moment in the ensuing silence. After a moment, I add: And I can help you. There are memories I have that you might not remember.
I'm so sure the prompt will get an answer from him, that I'm surprised when 5 minutes goes by without one. I stand up and check my hair in the mirror… And as I'm doing so, I see her again. Jean Grey, standing in corner of the room, looking at me. Smiling at me.
I start when the screen on the wall starts to chime Remy's ringtone, and in that moment, she's gone.
I hesitate, shaken. It had only been a split second; yet the hallucination had been so real, like she'd been standing right there… And that look, that smile, the way she'd caught my eye… She'd been interacting with me… …
Remy's tone is still ringing, bringing me back to myself. I turn to the sound, to him. Despite all my doubt, the promise of his presence has never been more comforting, and my heart skips a beat to know it's him. I pick up my phone and quickly take the call.
"Hey, Remy," I greet him, as his image pops up on the screen. He's sitting on the edge of a non-descript hotel bed in a pair of dress pants, his shirt open. He leans back on his hands and gives me a look that never fails to make me shudder pleasurably.
"Hey, beb," he replies in that soft, hard accent I hadn't realised I missed so much. "Nice hair."
"You like?" I ask him slyly, fluffing out the locks coyly.
"Well… redheads are hot… But I kinda miss that ridiculous white streak you got."
I pout.
"And I guess you'd know all about redheads, huh?"
"A little," he flat out lies. "So. I take it this Jean Grey thing is going ahead."
"Yeah." His tone is too neutral to read, and so I don't know how cool he is with all this yet. "We're still waiting on a location for Logan, but I… I wanted to get into the right headspace in the meantime."
He pushes himself up into a straighter position and eyes me critically.
"How's your head?" he asks soberly.
"It's… okay," I half lie. "Better than it was."
"Still gettin' the bleed effect?"
I'm so used to lying, I don't even miss a beat.
"No. Not since you left."
He looks relieved.
"Well, that's good to hear. I was startin' to really worry about you."
A part of me still isn't quite used to his concern. He's the only reason I'm still here, and yet… it's so strange not to play the lonely warrior, to have him take some of the burden I carry.
"So," I begin, wanting to change the subject. "How's Rotterdam?"
"Eh." He shrugs. "It was an easy assignment. Jake just wanted me outta everyone's hair, he don't haveta hide it. But the client was… grateful. Just got back from dinner and drinks. Perks of the job, neh?"
"Dinner and drinks but no sex?" I question wryly. He raises an eyebrow at me, and I continue: "I looked at the client profile. 'Hot model' wasn't quite what I was expecting when I read the part that said she was a lawyer."
"Ha! Shoulda known you took a look at the job specs." He leans over and picks up a glass of bourbon from his feet. "She made it real clear she was interested, but I – obviously – declined."
"Obviously," I agree sardonically. He takes a sip of his drink, says sincerely:
"I'm only interested in having sex with one particular person."
"Liar. You think about having sex with women all the damn time."
"I think about it." He laughs. "About 90% of the time I actually want it with you."
I scoff loudly, but all this talk is getting me heated up. The past couple of days without him have been lonely, and, more to the point, cold. His presence is so visceral in my life that it feels weird not to have him around when he's gone. We talk all the time, go out all the time. Cook together. Train and spar together. Have sex pretty much every single day. Even when we're not in the same room and doing our own thing, we're inexplicably together. These things are… unexpectedly important to me.
"I miss you," I say helplessly.
"Me too," he replies.
"When will you be back?"
"Well, there are a couple of loose ends I need to tie up tomorrow. But I should be back this time tomorrow. The mornin' after, at the latest."
"Feels like forever…" I murmur. I suddenly want to hold him. Just put my arms around him and keep him close. I don't know how to fit my life into his, but I know how I can fit to him physically, and somehow that's all that matters right now.
"I know, chere. But it ain't. I'll be back soon." He pauses, adding: "Speakin' of… when I'm back, we need t'talk."
His expression is serious.
"About what?"
"About us. I been thinkin' about what you said…"
"I'm sorry about what I said, Remy. I didn't mean—"
"You meant it, Anna, even if it was only in the moment." He gives a long, deep sigh. "I admit it – I've just been assumin' the life I have is the one you want. But," he continues, before I can protest, "this ain't the time and the place t' discuss it. We'll talk about it when I get back. Okay?"
I hesitate. I'm not sure if I'm ready to talk about it yet. I don't know what I want.
"Okay," I say quietly.
A comfortable silence follows. Neither of us wants to leave, but there's not much more to be said.
"Well," he finally says, "I'm guessin' you have a ton of research to do on this Logan fella, so I won't keep ya."
"I think I know pretty much everything I need to know about him," I counter.
"Ha. You got his location already?"
"Not yet. But I will soon. Why? You trying to get rid of me?"
He laughs softly.
"Ha. Non. Tell ya the truth, I was hopin' for some fun and games wit' you… but you look all preoccupied, chere."
I roll my eyes and let out a mischievous chuckle.
"Of course you were. And I'm fine. Seriously."
"It's okay, I get it. Mebbe I call you in the mornin', neh? Jake just sent me another assignment, the asshole. Suppose I should get some research done before I fly back…"
"Yeah. Sounds like a plan. I'm shattered right now. Call me in the morning… I'll switch on the screen in the bath, if you want."
"If I want?" He hitches an eyebrow. "Chere, you are such a tease."
"Let's call it a date then, Cajun. I guess you'll finally get to find out just how hot redheads really are."
"Chere." He leans forward with smouldering eyes. "I can't wait. Tomorrow then."
"Uh huh." I blow him a kiss. "Goodnight, Cajun."
He blows me one right back.
"Goodnight, Anna."
The screen goes blank.
I sigh and try to stifle the smile on my mouth with a hand. Moments like these, I'd go through the bleed effect a hundred times over just to be with him.
I'm just about to call him back when I hear a familiar blip behind me. I turn back to the desk and look at my tablet.
A set of numbers have appeared in the chatbox, and I know what they are immediately.
Coordinates.
It's a location.
Logan's finally sent me his location.
-oOo-