Wild Sky 2 (24 page)

And with that, he led the way out the door. I followed him, with Milo right behind me, into the overcast afternoon light.

“I really,
really
liked our visit to Adventure City,” I heard Cal say.

“Shut up, Scoot,” Dana grumbled, but when I turned around, Cal had pulled her down onto his lap and she was kissing him again as they rolled toward the gate.

Cal caught me looking, and he grinned so widely that I couldn’t keep from smiling, too.

————

It was early afternoon when we got back to Coconut Key. We had several hours to kill before Milo’s seven o’clock date with Rochelle.

I decided to use the time to wrangle my mom. I turned on my real phone, sent her a quick text, and found out that she was home. I’d use the time to have a pretend conversation about my top choice colleges with her. Win myself some extra points.

When I said I was going to do that, Milo asked to be let out of Cal’s car while we were still downtown.

He didn’t say it, but I knew he was closely monitoring the status of the John Doe with “amnesia” from the day-before-yesterday’s Sav’A’Buck parking lot incident. The man had been in the hospital for more than two days now, and it was only a matter of time before the police let him go. And I knew Milo believed that the top bullet point on John Doe’s to-do list was
Find the G-T who’d stolen his car and his assault rifle and had set free the little girl who was his latest intended payday
.

Of course, maybe I was wrong, and instead Milo was going shopping for a new shirt to wear for tonight’s date with Rochelle.

I sensed Cal glancing at me in the rearview as he pulled into our neighborhood and approached our daylight drop-off place, right around the corner from my house. While I was now allowed to ride in Calvin’s car, I was supposed to keep my mom updated about when I did it
and
where we were going. We had to stay extremely local. Today, with our trip to Adventure City, we’d gone far outside of Mom’s ridiculously limited range.

With Milo out of the car, we’d driven the last mile in silence, but the tension between Cal and Dana was pretty intense. I suspected they were holding hands in the front seat. Tightly.

“Six thirty,” Dana ordered as Cal pulled over to the curb. “Cal’s house. Don’t be late, Bubble Gum.”

“I won’t be.” As I met Cal’s eyes in the mirror, I was tempted to mock him with the same warning he always gave Milo and me.
Eyes open! Even when you’re
(insert immature smooching sounds here). Instead, I said, “I love you both.”

As Cal laughed and Dana turned to give me an
Are you a moron?
look, I shrugged. “Residuals of Morgan’s speaking the truth. I’m happy for you. That’s all.”

Dana made a disgusted noise. “Just get out of the car.”

I did, but first I blew Cal a kiss. I’d never seen him so euphorically happy.

After I closed the car door, as I took the cut-through alongside the Patterson’s house, I glanced back. Probably to see why Calvin hadn’t pulled away.

He was kissing Dana again, and she was kissing him back.

It was a full-on Hollywood clinch—an embrace that seemed almost life-and-death, and I remembered Morgan’s dire words as I hurried home.

How many years do you really think we have before we’re kidnapped and bled dry, too?

————

When I got to Cal’s at a little before 6:30, Garrett was still sitting on the couch all by himself, looking absolutely bored out of his mind as he obediently studied the TV screen that showcased the three different views of the inside of Rochelle’s house. I could see with one glance that the sofa was now empty, and there was no sign of either Rochelle or her friend Ashley in the kitchen or hallway either.

Garrett sat up as I came in. “Finally,” he said grumpily, rubbing his face. “That was
the
worst day ever!”

I looked at the half-empty pizza box and the scattering of Chinese-food containers and fast-food bags that littered the coffee table in front of him. “Try it the way Cal and I did it yesterday—without any food.”

“Jeez, just kill me now,” he said.

“Where’re Dana and Cal?” I asked.

“They’ve been in Cal’s room ever since they got home,” Garrett reported. “They ordered themselves their own private pizza and vanished with it.” He added a “Bow chicka bow bow!” along with a flurry of eyebrow movement.

“Don’t even,” I said with heavy disgust, even though I was thinking
Oh, really…?

“Hey.”

I jumped at the sound of Milo’s voice and turned to see him standing in the doorway. He must’ve come in right behind me. He was still wearing the same shirt he’d had on during our trip to Adventure City—and I immediately hated myself both for noticing that
and
for the rush of relief it gave me.

“Hey.” I tried to sound casual as I sat down on the sofa next to Garrett. My action made it impossible for Milo to kiss me hello. That was far better than my standing there awkwardly, like an idiot, because my boyfriend
still
didn’t want to touch me.

“Update!” Dana came striding out from the hallway that led to the wing of the house where Cal had his wheelchair-accessible suite. It had once been the master bedroom and bath, but before they’d moved in, his parents had had it redone for him, while they’d taken over the rooms up on the second floor.

Dana’s hair was still wet from a shower, which really wasn’t that strange. She and Milo frequently used Calvin’s bathroom to clean up, since they often camped out or squatted in abandoned buildings without any running water.

And yet…

“Milo first.” Dana was acting like…Dana. All sharply efficient and down-to-business. But I couldn’t help but notice that she wasn’t
quite
looking me in the eye. And? She seemed…dare I say it…?
Happy?
Well, maybe not. But certainly happy-
ish
.

“Our John Doe from the Sav’A’Buck remains at the hospital, under guard,” Milo reported as Calvin quietly joined us, rolling into the playroom. He also failed to meet my gaze. But he
definitely
looked happy. And yeah, Cal’s default emotion was joyful and upbeat, but this was a quieter, deeper sense of contentment—like all was right with his world, despite the battles we continued to fight.

“No word on when he’ll be released,” Milo continued. But then he glanced at me and cleared his throat. “As far as Rochelle…she started texting me about a half hour ago.
Can’t wait.
That kind of thing.”

Rochelle and Milo. Texting. In advance of their
date
. I breathed. Inhale. Exhale.

Dana turned to Garrett. “Your turn, G.”

“Nice to see you again, too,” he grumbled. He sat up and stretched his arms over his head. “Yeah, um, about forty-five minutes ago, hot, blond Ashley snapped out of her coma, staggered into the bathroom, peed like a racehorse for about ten minutes straight, and then left.” He yawned. “Rochelle started moving around right after that. She went upstairs. There’s been no sign of her since.”

Dana nodded to Milo. “Text Rochelle and tell her that your car broke down, so she’s gonna have to meet you at the restaurant. That way you won’t have to pick her up—it’ll limit your time alone with her and keep you out in public.”

I shook my head because being in public wasn’t going to stop a Destiny addict from jokering. The danger Milo was putting himself into was reduced only minimally. And then there was the
other
danger—that Rochelle was going to jump my boyfriend.

“I’m doing one better than that,” Milo told Dana with another look over at me, his phone already out. “I’ve already texted her that I’m tied up at work. I’ve told her that I’m doing a construction job up in Palm River. I said I still want to have dinner, but that I need her to meet me at a restaurant up there, instead of here in Coconut Key.” He glanced over at me again. “That buys us a solid half hour of drive time each way, along with however long she waits before she realizes she’s been stood up.”

Stood up
, as in Milo wasn’t actually going out on a date with Rochelle, which meant that not only was he
not
going to go face-to-face with a psychotic Destiny addict, but he also wasn’t going to have to play kissy face—or worse—with Ms. Elderly Grabby-Hands.

Oh, thank goodness.
I didn’t realize that I’d said it aloud until Milo looked over at me and said, “You didn’t
seriously
think I was going to…?” His words were sharper than I’d ever heard from him, and they were tinged with uncharacteristic impatience and annoyance.

He didn’t wait for me to babble some inept apology or excuse, because that
was
what I’d thought. Instead he just reached across the coffee table, holding out his hand to me.

I took it without really thinking, and our connection snapped on and my head nearly snapped back from the power of Milo’s emotions. He was usually so even-keeled and calm, but this was like stepping out of the house into one of those Florida late-afternoon thunderstorms where it rains sideways from the force of the wind.

He wasn’t presenting me with complete sentences, but through and under and alongside of his raging annoyance with me, I felt the magnitude of his sheer disgust for Rochelle. And yes, he’d kissed her—let
her
kiss
him
, really—but he’d
hated
it and absolutely did
not
want to do it again. Never, never,
never
.

Well, how was I supposed to know
, I tried to say, but my words were drowned out by a wave of something strange that instantly vanished as Milo abruptly pulled his hand away.

“Thanks a lot for your faith in me,” he muttered tightly, and I realized that what I’d felt was hurt—I’d badly hurt Milo’s feelings with my mistrust.

I should’ve felt better—knowing both that Milo wasn’t going to put himself into danger
and
that he didn’t secretly want to make out with Rochelle. But that icky feeling in the pit of my stomach remained. I should have trusted him. “I’m sorry,” I said.

But Milo just shook his head. “I need the name of a nice restaurant in Palm River,” he said as he sat down on the couch, way on the other side of Garrett. “I haven’t had a chance to do an Internet search, so…hit me with one.”

“The Strand.” Garrett, Calvin, and I all said it at exactly the same time.

“It’s upscale, on the water,” I added. “She’ll know where it is.” Kinda the way all three of us Coconut Key—that is, rich—kids knew where it was. Why did that make me so uncomfortable?

“The Strand,” Milo repeated as he typed it into his text to Rochelle. “Thanks.”

I glanced over at Dana and Cal—who were now whispering to each other in the corner of the room. Cal touched Dana’s arm and said something quietly, and she laughed.

Dana and Cal.

Who would’ve thought?

Garrett didn’t seem fazed by it. In fact, he had been led to believe, for quite some time now, that Cal and Dana were an item. As far as he knew, they’d been dating for a while.

It was kinda cool actually. Like life imitating art, instead of the other way around.

“Text is sent,” Milo said as he set his cell phone down on the table. “I told her to come as soon as she could. At seven, I’ll text her again, telling her I won’t get there ’til seven thirty, which’ll buy us even more time.” He pried free one of the now-cold remaining pizza slices and took a bite.

“Good,” Dana replied, turning her attention to the task at hand. “As soon as she leaves her house, we’ll head over there.”

I caught Cal studying Dana, adoration pooling in his eyes. I couldn’t help but feel a little envious. I wanted Milo to look at me the same way that Cal was gazing at Dana. We’d had that—once. But things felt way different now, and I was at least partly to blame. If not totally. Except, no. Even though the secret that Milo was keeping from me apparently
wasn’t
that he had the hots for a D-addict, he was
still
the one who kept pulling away and avoiding contact.

“You can heat that, you know, in the microwave?” I told Milo, feeling more annoyed than I should have by his cold-pizza consumption. “It doesn’t
have
to suck.”

He shook his head, not meeting my gaze. “I’m good.”

“Look!” Garrett exclaimed. “Guys!” He pointed to the TV screen.

Rochelle was on the move. She’d entered into the frame of the kitchen-cam, her eyes focused down at her phone as she sashayed across the floor in a tight black dress and sky-high heels. Before opening the fridge door, Rochelle typed something into her cell and then set it on the countertop.

Almost instantaneously, Milo’s phone vibrated.

“What’s it say?” Dana asked as Milo used his pizza-grease-free pinkie finger to unlock his phone and read her message.

He looked flustered as he stuttered, “Just that she’s getting ready and…she’ll be leaving soon.” He tried to pick up his phone, but he was too late.

Garrett had already grabbed it. “Oh, come on,” he said. “Share, share! Ooh, she wrote,
Almost ready to leave, the Strand is perfect, lots of dark corners.
” He scrolled up through the chain of text messages. “Ho-ho-
holy
sharing! Dude! She texted you a bath pic? Whoa! Check this out!”

I didn’t want to see it, but Garrett shoved Milo’s phone right in my face, and yup. There was Rochelle in all her glory. She’d sent Milo a naked selfie. The woman was pure class.

“Listen to this,” Garrett chortled. “
Wish you were here, XOXO!
” He looked at Milo. “She sends you this, and all you send her back is a
smiley face
?”

Milo just shook his head as he grimly ate his pizza.

In her kitchen, Rochelle had grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge and a glass from the cabinet, but she picked up her phone when it chimed.

“I just sent her a panting dog emoticon,” Garrett said. “She’ll like that better.”

Sure enough, Rochelle smiled as she typed a response with both of her thumbs.