Lost: Project Xol

by Amabel Daniels

  Because I don’t have to check in with him anymore… Jonah may not need me. He was an adult but it was second nature to baby my younger sibling.

  “Leave your lady behind?” Cassidy said at my side as I waited for the dial tone to ring.

  I fought a smile at her words. Sure, she was curious. But the tone of her intrigue sounded awfully green. Jealous? She didn’t like the idea of me having a woman back home? It could almost be funny. The way I’d pinned her down moments ago had been the most intimate contact I’d had with the opposite sex since before I was charged with murder. No. The last time was when we’d been cuddling on that couch, and she hadn’t woken up as willingly in my arms…

  Damn. She was sneaking under my guard a lot more than I realized.

  Still, I had nothing to hide from her. I set the phone on speaker and held it out between us, returning the courtesy that she showed me when she contacted Zero. We didn’t know each other all that well, but we weren’t keeping secrets from this point on. We were…partners.

  “Dixon Gym,” Jonah answered.

  Even though I was using an untraceable burner, it felt safer to call Jonah’s place of business instead of his cell. Call me cautious.

  “Jo—”

  “Luke?” A door slammed on the other end. He must be in his office, as I kind of guessed he would be this early in the morning. “Are you okay? Where the hell are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Your apartment was destroyed! And you just walked off the face of the goddamn earth. What the hell is going on?”

  Jesus. Jonah was always easy to get worked up.

  “I…” I glanced at Cassidy, annoyed with her raised brows and a small shrug. Yeah. I know. What to say… “I kind of, well…”

  “Are you in trouble again?”

  I glared at the wall across from us. Again? The last time I’d been in enough trouble to land in prison was because of him. I didn’t care for this attitude, like I was some stupid wannabe badass seeking trouble.

  “I, uh, hooked up with someone.”

  I heard Cassidy’s slight choke on air and I ignored her. What? It was the best I could come up with. Vague and fractionally true, minus the sexual part. Jonah didn’t speak so I continued, “We headed out of town for the weekend. And then I saw the news about my apartment and thought I’d wait a couple more days before coming back to deal with it.”

  Couple more days? Like I had any grounds to estimate that was how long I’d be with Cassidy to find Rosa. It felt like too short of a time. Time seemed distorted ever since I’d found Cassidy fighting for her life. I rubbed at the back of my neck.

  “Goddamn, Luke. You could have told me. I saw the local news report about the building and thought you’d been in there. But they said no one was found in the apartments, so I figured you must not have been home. Still…”

  Cassidy and I stared at each other. Zero said they’d just updated the news to include Rosa’s “death.” Maybe Jonah hadn’t gotten the update yet. He was more of the one to watch the evening news during dinner at the gym, not even using his phone for social media or news—fake or not.

  “Dale saw the report and called to see what was going on. And your landlord’s been calling me since I’m your emergency contact. He wants to get a hold of you and no one knew where you were!”

  I’d like it to stay that way right now, too.

  “Okay. I’ll call him.”

  “What’s with this number?” he asked.

  “I lost my old phone and got a new one. Keep this number to yourself. Understand?”

  “Luke, are you sure nothing’s going on?”

  “Understand?” I repeated even more firmly.

  “Huh. Okay. Yeah, sure.”

  Jonah might be too energetic but he was no fool. If I was withholding details, he’d know it was for a good purpose. He wouldn’t share this number.

  “I’ll contact you when I can.”

  He snorted. “Yeah.” I could tell he wasn’t a fan of being in the dark, but he was a big boy. He’d play along.

  “Just…”

  “Be careful? Seems like that’s my line to you here.”

  “I’ll talk to you soon,” I promised. As soon as it was safe.

  After we hung up with each other, the silence was deafeningly loud. Cassidy’s soft breaths normally calmed me, a soothing sound that I’d come to quickly listen for when we were alone in rooms like this.

  Alone like this. I couldn’t let myself get this attached.

  “So you’re close with Mr. Hanson?” she asked.

  Even though she was digging for info, I welcomed her question. I didn’t want to stop and think, didn’t want to let myself ruminate over the residue of the nightmare.

  “Not really. Jonah is still.”

  It wasn’t out of the ordinary that Dale would call my little brother. And seeing the news of my home exploding would probably trigger a phone call.

  “He was his mentor when I went to prison. Jonah was struggling with alcohol, and Dale sponsored him through rehab. He’s made a big impact on his life, and I’m grateful he was there to help watch over him when I couldn’t. They don’t stay in touch for the AA stuff that much anymore, since Jonah’s been sober for almost five years now.”

  “Is he much younger than you?”

  “A year.”

  She didn’t encourage me to elaborate, but I felt the urge to anyway. “Our parents were killed in a car accident on vacation when were teens. I’d just turned eighteen, and instead of me becoming his guardian, he had to go through a few homes until I finally got custody.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I nodded my thanks. Unwilling to talk about my parents, I lifted a shoulder, the wrong one. It still ached from Cassidy’s pan attack. Sitting here, discussing this topic, I had to move. I pushed off the bed and tore off my shirt. At the front of the room, I dropped to the ground to try a push-up. May as well start the day.

  My arm wasn’t in the mood for the exercise though, so I shifted to do crunches instead.

  “Do you think Dale might have even known Rosa?” she asked.

  It was possible. If not her, then Scott. “You mean your dad?”

  “I never had one.”

  “Yet Rosa was married.”

  “Still news to me. He was never my dad.”

  I grunted through too fast of a rep and slowed down. “If Dale was as involved in Daysun in the nineties, then I’d imagine he and Scott would have met. I don’t know much about him. I know the vague, general points about Daysun like everyone else does. He just helped my brother and then provided the legal aid and money to help get me released from prison. Then he helped Jonah start up his gym and a home reno business—I work for Jonah, not Dale.”

  “How old is he, do you think?”

  I felt her gaze following me as I moved through my morning routine and it wasn’t a shabby feeling to be…appreciated so carnally.

  “In his seventies?” I guessed. He had a head of nearly all white hair, so he was no spring chicken. With his wealth and connections, he probably had plenty of means to maintain his artificially youthful appearance.

  “Rosa’s seventy-three. It seems possible they could have met way back when.” She swung her legs off the bed, bringing her calves within my line of sight as I rotated to a plank position. “Weird, isn’t it? How small of a world it can be sometimes?”

  I stared at her ankle, almost missing her words altogether. She huffed, maybe a sound of reflection to herself since I wasn’t replying, just…staring.

  Creamy, soft skin. All that luscious leg had been wrapped around me just two mornings ago—

  I shot to my feet, startling her in my abrupt stand as she flinched backward. Too close to her to touch her yet too far from her to feel any right to do so, I turned and headed for the bathroom. “We may as well start the day, then, huh?”

  Minutes later, Cassidy busied herself on the other side of the bed. We’d both dressed and were packing up our meager belon
gings to leave. Leave for where, we didn’t know. I figured we could continue heading west and south, away from the last location we’d run into Michael.

  “Maybe we can get an actual meal for breakfast?” she suggested as I held the door to our room open.

  “Not a bad idea.” It’d beat the protein bars and handheld foodstuff we’d been depending on. And perhaps we could form a better strategy while we ate—fuel for the brain.

  “I’m sure Zero will be up now. So I can call and see if he has any more news. We could use a better sense of direction. Maybe he’ll have an update about Rosa,” she said, her attention down to her phone while we exited the room and walked down the hallway to the parking lot.

  As we stepped out from under the stained and ripped awning overhead, my stomach plummeted to my feet and I felt all the air stick in my lungs.

  We weren’t going anywhere. Alarm quickly turned to anger and I clenched my teeth. “Change of plans.”

  Cassidy tore her gaze from her phone to frown at me. Then she looked ahead to where a police cruiser stood idling in front of the lobby. And the wide-open spot where I’d parked and locked my bike that last—the rectangle of asphalt that was now obviously empty.

  My motorcycle was gone.

  Chapter Four

  Cassidy

  Gone.

  That roaring, hellacious, and dangerously badass motorcycle was gone. Stolen, it seemed.

  Yes, even I could admit it was a badass machine. Or I could have learned to feel like something of a strong rebel kind of girl riding on it. The man who’d owned and driven it so expertly certainly was badass.

  And angry. Peeved. Irritated.

  “What the hell?” I whispered to myself.

  Two police officers spoke to a couple of men. One was gesticulating with fury, fisted hands waving and lips scowling downward. The officer patiently waited out his tirade, letting him vent words of rage that he’d woken up to find himself a victim of auto theft.

  Near the lobby, the other cop stood with another hotel visitor and a portly lady who wore a cheap placard of a nametag, labeling her as the manager on duty. Her apologies came on repeat with no pacifying effect on the angry customers.

  “Just…” Luke growled and then sighed next to me. He eyed the area and then pointed across the street. “Go wait over there.”

  Because I’m a dog to follow your orders? Yeah, yeah. He was cranky, but there was no need to direct that tone toward me. I followed to where he’d gestured. Dolly’s Diner.

  “Just stay there. Out of the way for now.”

  What…the…hell.

  He must have calmed from his fury enough to notice my gaping expression.

  “Away from the cops…?” He deadpanned at me and I nodded. Right. Because they might get curious about my being here and wanting to question me about Rosa’s so-called death. His delivery could use some work, but at least he was thinking of my safety.

  “I’ll ask what happened.” He shook his head and set his lips in a grim line. “Not like it isn’t obvious already.”

  Without wanting to chance a cop speaking to me and asking about Rosa’s “death,” I trotted over to the diner. I stalled for a few minutes, wondering if Luke would come meet me here. Windows spread across the front of the eatery, and I could follow the motions of the cops talking to everyone in the motel’s parking lot. Luke didn’t directly approach the officers. He seemed to hang out and eavesdrop, chat with the other people who’d seemed to lose their vehicles or the belongings inside them overnight.

  I ordered a simple breakfast for two, guessing on Luke’s preference for eggs and toast. He seemed like a wheat guy, not white or sourdough. With the musculature and slim fit of his body, he was probably a healthier nut than I was. And double the eggs. He had to be getting lots of protein somehow to maintain that body.

  That body that had plastered me to the bed this morning. His hot skin that—

  Okay. Moving on. I resisted fanning myself as a blush crept over my face. He’d only done that out of fear at his nightmare, and I’d touched him and startled him. That was a logical assumption, but when I’d wanted nothing more than to hold him, be held by him, and stroked his back…

  Logic, meet this sappy sucker that goes by the name of Big Heart.

  Ten minutes later, he entered the diner, scanned the room, and came toward me, making eye contact on the way. Our plates had been delivered not even a minute earlier, and he dug right in.

  First, he said, “Stolen.”

  Obviously. “Did you file a report?”

  “No. Do I look like someone who wants to be tracked?” He snorted. “I’m lucky no one else mentioned it being missing. And that we didn’t have to leave the plate info with the front desk at check-in.”

  True, that. So he was just…giving up his bike, his vehicle. What else could he do? If he filed a police report, that’d tie him to this motel, which might provide a link to me and that we were here.

  Did anyone know we were together? Michael sure did. But what or who was he affiliated with, exactly? An Ohio police force and the Arizona field of the FBI? How? I gnawed on my bacon and nodded.

  “That bike was the first thing I bought when I got out,” he muttered with a slow cringe.

  The greasy awesomeness of the meat in my mouth went sour. Perfect. I’d caused him to lose a sentimental purchase. Well, I didn’t cause some random asshole to steal his bike at this motel. But Luke never would have been at the motel if he hadn’t met me and decided to tag along with me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He flipped his free hand up as a brief that’s enough gesture and shook his head. “Nothing I can do about it now. No point in whining or wallowing.”

  I swallowed my food, watching him not meet my eye. I admired him for his determination to move past a hurdle, the loss of his bike. Luke didn’t strike me as a man who’d wear many emotions on his sleeve, but it hurt my heart to think that his impassive stoicism was the result of having so many things lost already. The years in prison. His parents. His…future?

  Only when I’d caressed his sturdy back in bed, when he’d trapped me so forcefully to the mattress had he broken. Just a little bit, but he’d let his guard down enough to lean on me, to simply be. I wasn’t a gambling woman, but if I were, I’d bet his nightmare was from his time in jail, perhaps from the incident that had resulted in long gashes of scar tissue on his lower back.

  Recalling, again, how firm and hot his bare skin had felt under my fingers, I resisted a shudder.

  “Any word from Zero?”

  I slid my plate aside, no longer hungry with this huge question mark in front of us. Without Luke’s bike—as much as I was loath to admit it—we were lost. Even if Zero had somewhere to direct us, how would we get there? My car was still in the garage of the house we’d crashed at outside of Cincinnati. There was probably no way we could retrieve it, and even if we wanted to, Michael and his goons could have put a tracer on it or disabled it. Or at least they’d know the info on the plates.

  Why? What the hell is your game, Michael?

  “No.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I hadn’t checked yet. I was…” I frowned and refused to glance up at him as he burned me with his intense stare from across the chipped tabletop. “I was watching you out there.”

  And I was watching you when you did your little workout thing on the floor. And when I’d nursed you with your shoulder. And when you’d crushed me to the bed… And I’ll watch you any and every time I think you’re not going to notice.

  Alerts scrolled a steady list on the screen and I was grateful for the shift in my attention. It was past time I quit this nonsense of noticing Luke. We had bigger things to mind.

  “He says to call.” And I promptly obeyed. We were the only table in this corner of the diner, so I risked a speaker call and set the device next to Luke’s untouched glass of water.

  “Good morning,” Zero greeted.

  “Or not,” Luke groused.

  “What’s
wrong?”

  You mean, what’s wrong now?

  Luke filled him in on our surprise of theft this morning. Zero waited until he was done, and then he offered his suggestion. “Grab a Greyhound. Fake your names for the ticket and pay cash.”

  I smirked at the phone. “And go where?” Even though we had no means of transportation in this speck of rural Pennsylvania, what did it matter in the immediate sense? Unless Zero knew where we could find Rosa, what was the point?

  “Texas.”

  I blinked up at Luke. He cocked one brow. Zero had us both stumped.

  “You got a letter today,” Zero said.

  “Another one from Rosa?”

  “Yup. Who is not dead, not if she’s the one mailing it.”

  I pulled at the top bow of my lip. Good point. An ugly one, but a valid fact. Someone else could be sending the snail mail to me. But why wouldn’t Rosa send me those letters herself? The layering reaches of this confusion seemed to never end.

  Zero mumbled a noise of impatience. “I’ll back up. The first letter was sent from New Orleans. I took a little trip into the MITC server and traced that first envelope at least to the city where it was sent and processed from. Of course, a stamp can’t tell me anything else.”

  MICT? Oh, Jesus. He was hacking into federal databases? What was Zero not capable of? MITC was the department of the US Postal Service to scan every piece of mail—part of their efforts for security after anthrax scares a couple of years ago. I covered my eyes with one hand, feeling overwhelmed at the depth of Zero’s criminal snoopiness. And that I required his illegal snooping to begin with.

  “This second letter, it came from Detroit. Again, nothing else to know other than the post office it was originally processed at.”

  I moved my hand from my face and frowned at Luke. “I got that first letter only… God, this insanity has been my life for how long now?

  “Two days ago,” Zero answered. “Hence my doubts that Rosa might be personally dropping these letters off for you herself.”

  Louisiana to Michigan in forty-eight hours was possible. But why? If she was on the down-low and not leaving any kind of a trail that Zero couldn’t find digitally, how?