Page 20 of Against The Tide

“Carl would’ve followed right behind me. I know we’re safe here. Listen, Virginia isn’t exactly on your doorstep—I can figure something out. You don’t have to come all this way for us. I spoke to Mike, and he said that he would come down soon to help me figure everything out.”

There’s a silent pause before she states, “No! No, I can do it. The trip will do me good anyway. DC is insane right now.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.”

“Text me where you’re staying, and I’ll let you know when I’ll come to you. All right?”

“Kayla, please don’t tell him where I am.”

“Avery, Carl doesn’t need me to tell him anything.”

Isn’t that the truth? I used to think my dad knew everything about every who is who of DC society, but Carl managed to make him look clueless sometimes.

“I’ll call you soon.”

“Be careful.”

“Yeah, you too.”

The microwave beeps at the same time she hangs up. Kayla is the “love you” and endless kisses kind of person, but she barely said goodbye. It’s obvious she’s worried, and I feel bad for not asking her more about what’s going on with her. It doesn’t exactly make me a great friend, especially not one that deserves her to go out of her way to help.

Callie’s eyes pop when Kayla’s bright yellow Porsche comes to a stop on the drive.

She blows out a low whistle. “Remind me to put my order in with Rowan later. I might get it in time for Christmas.”

“I didn’t think yellow was your color, but sure.”

Tilting to the side, she looks up at me with a broad smirk. “Look at you getting some sass back. And of course, you’re right—a Porsche should always be in red.”

I’m not sure whether I am getting some sass about me, or whether I’m so relieved to see Kayla showing up on her own, that the haziness from the painkillers I took a little over an hour ago doesn’t feel so bad anymore.

“Is she here on business or to see you? I’m all for a great pair of skyscraper heels, but…a three-hour drive in those is poditricide.”

“What-the what?”

“Foot murder…you know…that shit kills.”

Callie’s right. I wasn’t quite expecting Kayla to show up in a bright white power suit and electric-blue heels. Not that she ever dresses down—her casual borders on most people’s dressy. Still, even after the long drive, she looks ready to kick ass with her long hair straightened into an ebony curtain of shiny silk. Her makeup is flawless, making her tawny skin look radiant. She’s a vision of designer perfection, while I’m slumming it in a pair of Callie’s leggings that are clearly too short for me and Rafe’s massive sweatshirt.

“Hey.” Kayla stops short of where Callie and I are standing on the porch steps.

Even her poker face can’t hide her shock over my injuries is the hard swallow and sharp intake of breath. The reaction isn’t surprising given I have it every time I look in the mirror. Even with the slight yellowing over the last week and swelling going down, it doesn’t look better.

“The bags!” She suddenly turns back to her car and fetching a couple of weekend bags from the passenger seat along with her purse.

“I forget how well put together these people are. I’m going to go make drinks…maybe watch the kids or, I don’t know, maybe I’ll go dust off my Louboutins and kick some dirt.”

Callie heads inside, leaving me alone with Kayla and the odd feeling in my gut that keeps churning the longer I take her in. I’ve never noticed the color of her lipstick before, but every time she smiles, the knot tightens.

“Amazing house.” Kayla looks around the porch and then back at her car. “What’s with the not-amazing dirt drive?”

“This isn’t the city.”

“It’s not the beach either. When you sent me the address, I thought we could sit on the beach and talk, but…”

“Be nice, Kayla,” I tell her, taking the bags from her.

They’re not heavy like I thought they would be, but the weight is enough to make my ribs smart with the tensing of my muscles.