Page 97 of Haunt the Mall
“Glad to hear it.”
A combination of his steady voice and my GPS led me to a clean, shady grove on the other side of the suburb. Private Property. No outlet. A security office manned a full-length iron gate and a camera pointed at approaching visitors.
Fuck me if I couldn’t get in. The red car’s headlights peeked around the corner in search of my destination.
A buff guy with pale blue eyes regarded me from a security station. “Name and business?”
“Kat Silver. Er—maybe Katherine? I’m here for Victor Sterling.”
The guy glanced at his screen, then clicked a button. “Go ahead.”
I half-expected the gates to screech upwards like a rusty guillotine, but they hummed with electric current and glided apart. If only Victor’s emotional walls were that easy to open.
I followed a paved road past mansions with huge hedges and manicured lawns. Victor stood outside a white brick house with black, angled panels on the roof and tinted windows. Little black orb cameras hung from every corner of his home. He waved me into a two-car garage. His car was on the street, so he must've made room for me.
My hands shook as I parked and grabbed my phone. “Was that bulletproof glass out front?”
He jogged to open my door. “Yes.”
“Congrats on your purge-proof house, I guess.” I cracked a smile.
He slow-blinked and offered his hand. “You never know who you’ll need to protect.”
Fuck this romantic man.
I slipped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest. Sage and sweat wafted off his clothes. Part of me wanted to rub my face all over him just to feel safe again.
He barely had time to hug me back before a girl’s voice snapped through a speaker. “He drove off, but we got him on camera.”
I clutched Victor and looked around. “Who said that?”
“My sister’s on the intercom.” Victor saluted the camera.
I summoned an awkward smile and waved. “Hi, Victor’s sister.”
“You already met her. The spider tech. Goes by Zero in public,” he said.
“In public?” I tilted my head. Why wouldn’t he introduce us properly at the theater?
Her voice buzzed into the night air. “Running the plates now. Looks like they match what you have on file for Sam. I’m not sure it’s enough evidence for harassment charges.”
My phone pinged. I flinched and checked the message. It was from a random number.
< I just want to talk >
Victor stroked the back of my neck. “Who’s that?”
“I think it might be Sam.” I showed him the message chain. “I turned my phone off while I was at my parents. When I turned it on and saw the preview amid a bunch of messages, I thought—” My breath hitched. “I thought maybe you wanted to talk to me.”
“I did.” On his phone, he showed me our message thread.
< Victor: You didn’t stay for a movie? >
< Victor: I have a million things I’m supposed to be doing and all I can think about is you. I want to hold you. I want to make sure you’re okay. >
< Victor: Are you okay? >
< Victor: I’m sorry. I can try to open up more. Can we talk? >