My Heart For Yours (Sinful Secrets 2)

I exhale slowly. “Yeah. Well brother, thanks.”

“No problem. Nothing I can help you with?”

I laugh, as if I’m embarrassed. “Just chasing a girl.”

“Good luck, man.”

“Yeah. Thanks, dude.”

“Have a good one.”

“You too. Catch ya later.”

I hang up with Roy J. Bidd from High Altitudes Tattoo & Piercing and stare down at my phone.

So the tat we have is custom, sort of. He didn’t get it out of some tattoo artists’ stock art book. I couldn’t tell if it was identical, because I can’t see mine easily. But now I know it probably is. It doesn’t matter. Gwen won’t notice.

I slide the phone into my pocket and walk back into my bedroom. Like I did a little while ago, I catch myself staring at the bed. Gwenna made it before she left. Piled the pillows up, straightened the duvet so there’s no wrinkles. I don’t think I’ve seen a bed this neat since boot camp.

I step over and look down at the note still lying where she left it right in front of the pillows.

How’d you know my favorite scones?

Don’t be a stranger. Pretty please…

XOX

I tuck the note into my pocket and consider getting up there on the bed, but decide to leave it untouched for right now. I go over to the armchair, which I pulled away from the window when Gwenna was here. It feels strange, sitting in it near the middle of the room. I start to drag it to the window, but for some reason I stop halfway there.

I sink back into the chair and scroll through my phone. Sooner or later, someone’s going to notice I still have it, or maybe they don’t give a fuck. It is mine, after all. I did all the coding. They would need to gut it—software, hardware, all—so it’s nothing more than just a case, and what would be the point of confiscating that? I could build the same thing inside any regular ass iPhone case. Easier just to let me keep the one I have already. That way they can still track me. We’re told they won’t do that once we leave the Unit, but when I called Alec Ludlum about tracking Blue, he asked me what I was doing down in Tennessee.

I touch my phone’s screen and look briefly at the picture of Gwen’s little snowflake tat, then nav over to track Blue. I find him sidelined in Kentucky, somewhere known as Berea, where he seems to be spending time at a local library.

Then I read Dove’s latest text.

‘All cool, Bear?’

‘All cool,’ I reply.

I shut the thing right down, then wash my face with ice cold water and pop a piece of MEG gum so I don’t have to drink a coffee or a Red Bull. I make a mug of Keurig hot chocolate and take it to the back porch, where, for once, I don’t do anything but sit there watching the trees.

Then, when the sun starts slipping behind the foothills, I grab the groceries I bought a couple hours ago, after I delivered Gwenna’s scones, and put them in my rucksack. I leave it at the bottom of the stairs and go back up to the bathroom, where I stare at the tub for a minute before brushing my teeth.

I rinse with mouthwash like a fucking teenager and can’t resist a quick look in the mirror. Looking fucking weird with this long hair. I trimmed the beard down so it’s kind of prickly. I rub my eyes and look down at my white shirt and black jeans.

I should maybe call first…but I don’t. I go downstairs and get my pack and lock up. I put my hand against the swing, making a mental note to bolt it down or move

it at some point, and then I go down the stairs. As I step into the woods, I check my pants for my .38 and find I left without it.

That beats all. Unarmed and with a rucksack full of food. I smile a little as I trek toward her place.

* * *

Gwenna

It’s too warm in Tennessee for hibernation—at least the kind you hear about. Black bears just curl up nice and cozy somewhere and don’t move much. But they’re still bears. Their bodies still know the cycle of things. So they still try to stock up on food before.

I have cameras set on two of their most common dining halls: a patch of wild grapes and a grove of oak trees, heavy with acorns. When I look, after I get home from Barrett’s in the morning, both places look pretty picked over. So I make an unplanned trip into the enclosure a little after noon.