Forbidden ~ after unlocked

Chapter 23 - Keefe

Keefe swore he could have died from shock.

Not once in his life had he ever been this lucky.

Ever.

But he was in the backseat of a car with Ethan Benedict Wright II's father.

It took Keefe several moments to process the words, but as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Ethan Wright interrupted him.

"Why do you wanna know?" He asked accusingly.

Keefe tried to come up with a witty joke to respond with but his brain couldn't function properly. He was thrown off his game. Somehow he couldn't think of a lie either, one of the things he usually excelled at.

Instead he just stayed silent, hoping that would be enough of an answer.

Ethan Wright's voice suddenly turned gruff, different from the cheery tone he'd used earlier. "Oh now you choose not to talk?"

Keefe stared out the window. "Your name sounded familiar, that's all," he said after a stretch of silence, deciding that the best lies were based on the truth. He flicked his eyes back to the front seat nervously.

"Oh." His chaperone's shoulders relaxed, and Keefe could feel some of Ethan Wright's tension ease away as they turned onto an exit leading off of the highway. The fielded landscape disappeared and intimidating yet elegant buildings immediately took its place, jutting up on either side of him.

Keefe stared in awe around him. He may not know much about human architecture, but he could tell that London was beautiful. Domes sprouted above structures like carrot tops, and every building was detailed with intricate designs carved into the stone. Alleyways and side streets appeared seemingly from nowhere, connecting roads parallel to each other.

Then there were the people. Humans were everywhere, and all the bustle and constant honking and shouting reminded Keefe of New York. He gritted his teeth. Being inside the car helped, but he could feel the mass of emotions just outside of his reach. Like the humming sensation in the air before it's going to storm.

Ethan Wright chuckled. "You look like you've never seen London before."

Keefe managed a weak smile.

"So, where are your ends?"

Keefe swallowed. "My what?"

Ethan? Ethan Wright? Mr. Wright?—Keefe wasn't exactly sure what to call him—just laughed to himself again. "You're definitely not from around here. Dressed funny, American accent... I was just asking what part of town you're from so I know where to drop you off."

"Oh, uh... the library please."

The man raised an eyebrow. "You live at the library?"

"No, umm... I'll call my family and ask them to meet me there. It's easier that way."

"You sure? You don't seem to know what you're doing."

"No kidding," Keefe muttered under his breath.

"Pardon me?"

"Nothing."

"Alright then, British Library it is."

Keefe didn't know how long it would take to drive there, but if he didn't get any information about Ethan Wright's son it would be a complete waste of luck—something he didn't have much to begin with. This man had to know something.

Keefe cleared his throat, trying to bring up the subject casually. "I was wondering—"

A sudden beeping noise coming from his pocket made him freeze.