Page 44 of Shades of Grey & Gold

“You told me you had a job lined up.” The confusion is apparent in my tone.

“A job. Yeah, I did. But I had to take some things off of my dad’s plate.” He stares straight ahead, and I follow his gaze as we turn off the highway.

“I thought we were going to the airport?” I sit up a little straighter and look out the window again. “That’s like… another fifteen minutes on the highway.”

Silence.

More silence.

After a few turns, we pull up to a security guard waiting at an open gate where he waves us through. As we turn around a large building, it opens up to a huge flat lot. With a private plane on a small runway.

Louis pulls the SUV to stop a short distance from the stairs of the plane, next to an empty black sedan.

“Callan, what is going on?” I look at him, then at the plane and these two things cannot coexist. “Who are you working for to go on a private jet? Batman?”

The car stops, Louis gets out and opens Callan’s door, then circles around to get mine. Callan beats him to it. Callan pauses, his hand on the closed car door and says something inaudible to Louis who steps back, hands raised straight up. Louis gets back in the driver’s seat at the same time Callan opens my door.

“Get out,” Callan’s voice is only above a whisper, but it’s a command and the soft tone doesn’t stop me from bristling slightly, and he notices. “Max, I want to explain, but you have to get out in order for me to do that.” He glances at the back of Louis’ head.

I hesitate. I know Callan, he wouldn’t hurt me or put me in an unsafe situation.

But do I know him now?That voice in my head is asking me what I’m doing again as I step out of the car, and he pushes it shut behind me, leaving Louis safely tucked inside.

IknewCallan. Seven years ago. I don’t know him now.

The enormity of that fact sits heavy in my stomach, my insides warring with every decision I’ve made in the last ten minutes.

But the last two months have not beennothing. He’s still Callan.

The wind is stronger than it was at the office, probably because of the open lot—sorry, airfield, runway, airport, whatever. As Callan reaches around me, I freeze at his hand on my back. He looks down at me, his eyes look hurt at my reaction, but he continues walking us toward the back of the sedan, his coat over his arm now.

“Please don’t look at me like that, Sims.”

“How am I looking at you?”

“Like… I don’t know. Like there might be bodies of the dead variety around here somewhere and you think I might be responsible for them.”

He opens the trunk of the sedan, pulls his tie from around his neck, and removes the cuff links from his white button-up shirt. His eyes stay on mine, and I slowly take a few steps to close the distance between us, peeking over the side. The trunk is empty.

I don’t know what I thought would be there, but a sigh of relief exits my lips.

“There are no dead bodies here, Max.” I look up at his words, expecting a smile, but he’s frowning deeply. “I want to explain everything to you, but if I do, there’s no unknowing it. I can’t take it back, and I can’t tell you and let you get back in that car with Louis. I need you to give me a chance to explain. If I’m going to tell you, then you have to get on that plane with me. It can fly you back as soon as we land, if that’s what you want. I’ll tell them… I don’t know. That you’re my business associate. But there are rules. And you have to agree to the rules before I tell them to you.”

“Is this a joke?” I look at him incredulously. “I was kidding about the FBI thing, Cal, but you’re kinda freaking me out.”

He has rolled up his sleeves as he lifts the bottom of the trunk.

Wait.

He lifts the bottom of the trunk?

I look closer at a blank screen sitting underneath the felt of what should have been the bottom of the trunk. His hand lies flat on the screen and red lines trace the edges of his palm. The lines all flash green and the whole area slowly opens to another compartment below. Needles climb up my spine as he sets his coat, cuff links and tie on one side, followed by both of the phones he had used earlier, his wallet, and his keys in a separate box.

I can feel his eyes on me while my eyes grow wider as I assess every part of this situation.

There’s a safe in this trunk. There’s a private plane to my left. And a driver. And Cal.

“You can get back in the car with Louis, and he can take you back to the office. Or you can put your phone in the box and get on the plane with me, but I have,” he glances at his watch. “About sixty seconds before I have to be on that plane or we are going to miss our window for takeoff.”