Page 172 of You Found Me
“That’s right,” Spencer agreed. “We’reyoursecurity now. I planted false trails across social media about Della’s location, but it’s possible the savvy fans will see through it and head here. You’ll need us as backup while you’re, um, recuperating.”
“What Ineed,” Ward stressed the word, “is a little peace and quiet. The more bodies circle this house, the more nosy neighbors will show up with casseroles. Trust me.”
“I’d love a casserole.” Annie gave him an unapologetic smile. “I’m starving. That hospital food was pathetic.”
Ward’s stomach growled as if to emphasize her point. He turned away from the knowing look on her face and limped into the living room. “Fine. Spencer, set up in the office. Any word on my special delivery?”
His leg was starting to ache, along with his head, but he’d be damned if he’d ask for a painkiller.
“Yourdelivery?” Annie said, her face carefully neutral.
He narrowed his eyes at her. “You know what I mean.”
“I do,” Annie agreed. “Doyou?”
“Get out.” He pointed the crutch at the door.
“Somebody is cranky…,” Annie sing-songed.
Spencer drifted toward the fireplace, his attention mostly on his phone. “He might be suffering from a lack of sleep and dehydration. A study showed that nocturnal noises in a hospital disrupt the circadian rhythms, resulting in?—”
“I don’t think that’s it,” Annie interrupted before Spencer could spew more data about the sleep Ward had not had.
She moved the coffee table out of his way so he could get to the couch, which he refused to acknowledge. “I think somebody is missing a certain someone with red hair. Well, orange clown hair now.”
He shot her a dirty look.
She gestured to the couch with a flourish. “Have a seat, gimpy.”
He didn’t sit down, despite the intense desire to sink into it and never move. He didn’t want to give Annie the satisfaction.
She was right. He knew it. She knew it.
This house wasn’t a home without Della. Walking through the front door without her had made all the spaces in his chest tight.
Spencer glanced up, then frowned at him. “You know, he could be hangry. It’s been a while since we ate. Maybe I should?—”
“Stop. Coddling. Me,” Ward barked like a drill sergeant.
“This isn’t coddling,” Annie said. “This is bare-minimum care given to a boss who’s also a friend who’s unable to use his leg.”
“I’m perfectly capable of using my leg.” Ward thought about kicking her with it to prove his point. Then the wound twinged, and he thought better of it.
“You can gripe all you want.” Annie’s face turned serious. “We’re not leaving. Now sit.”
He gave in to the inevitable and lowered himself onto one end of the couch so that he could still see out the window. The aching in his leg immediately eased. “What’s the ETA?”
Spencer checked his phone. “They’re about fifteen minutes out. Diggs says the plan worked perfectly. They weren’t followed. All clear.”
“Good.” Ward stared at the big black van with its unmarked sides and blackened windows now sitting in the driveway. It was exactly the kind of thing kids should avoid. Unless things had changed a hell of a lot since he and Brick were kids, that meant every nosy brat in the neighborhood would be checking it out in the next five minutes. “It won’t take long for word to spread. We need a plan.”
“Wealready have a plan,” Annie said. “We will secure the area. As the principal,yourjob is to rest and relax.”
He raised an eyebrow at her.
She grinned. “It’s not so easy being on the other side, is it.”
“Not the point.”