no turning back

• forty six •

gladys

Brant's face fell with disappointment. "Ben? As in the guy you went off the grid with? The guy who turned Elijah into the FBI? The one who has probably been looking for you since you magically disappeared?"

I winced. "Yeah. That's the one." I'm so fucked.

"So why do you think he would help in this situation? If he wants what's best for you, he's going to do the exact opposite of that. Shit, he'll probably call the FBI again. You know they're trying to figure out where he's been."

Dragging a hand through my hair, I let out an exasperated breath. "Look, I know it's not a great idea, but it's my only idea. I'm not abandoning Elijah. Honestly, I would rather him call the FBI and they come save him, even if it means he gets in trouble. At least he'd be alright."

Brant shook his head as he looked around, surveying the yard. "Can we debate how horrible this idea is inside? Being out here is making my paranoia worse."

"Fine," I grumbled.

Climbing out of the car, I scrubbed my hands along my goosebump-riddled arms and followed him to the screen door. My eyes flit about in the darkness, wary of any movement. I, too, was feeling anxious about being followed.

Once we were inside with the door locked, we only turned on one light—a lamp in the living room—and made sure every curtain was pulled and every blind was shut. I poured us both a glass of water and then we sat at the kitchen table. Brant's eyes drifted down to where my trembling hands gripped the glass and I quickly pulled them under the table, squeezing them together.

"We may not have long here," he reminded me. "You gonna call this guy or not?"

"You just told me it was a terrible idea," I scoffed.

"It is. But if you refuse to save yourself, let's see if your dumbass idea is at least feasible."

I took a sip of my water and appraised him. "You should leave, like you planned to. You've been involved enough. This is your chance to get back to your family. Take it."

"I should. But I'm not leaving you."

"Seriously, Brant. I don't want you here if the mafia comes to kill me."

"I've been a pussy so many times in my life. This is not about to be one of those times. You've stuck up for me, and I'm going to do it for you." He placed his cell phone on the table between us. "Now call him so we can get this over with."

Seeing that he was going to be as stubborn as me, I took a deep breath and grabbed his phone. I had Ben's phone number memorized from when we lived together—a security precaution in case we were ever involuntarily separated. It felt strange pressing the buttons, knowing Elijah would freak the fuck out if he were here.

While the call connected, I put it on speaker. I had no idea what Ben would have to say to me, if he even answered, but I figured it would be best if Brant knew everything I did. The call rang several times before going to voicemail.

"Try again," Brant said.

I wet my lips and tapped the number from the call log, putting the call on speaker again. "Come on, come on," I whispered.

"Hello?" snapped a coarse voice.

My breath caught. "Ben?"

There was a long pause and then an incredulous, "Gladys? Is that you?"

I almost sobbed with relief. "Yes! Yes, it's me. Please, listen to me. I need your help."

"Where are you? Are you safe?"