Take Me Tomorrow

Chapter 24: I Was Dead

I stifled a gasp. Pierson. I hadn't been imagining the strange familiarity. He was Miles' friend who had watched the door at the homecoming party, the one who had purposely called the cops to expose the tomo.

Pierson gestured to my hands. "She keeps moving them."

I refused to look at him. Was Pierson still Noah's comrade? If he was, why would he handcuff me? I needed to be able to escape.

When Anthony nodded, Pierson handcuffed me carefully, dropping my hands in my lap. Anthony's smile grew. "That blood," he teased, "it's not yours, is it?"

My stomach lunged into my throat. Noah. I remembered how he grabbed my hands and pulled me down the stairwell. It was his blood on my hands.

I stared at the crimson color.

"Doubt he survived that shot," Anthony said as the truck neared a large wrought-iron gate with a twisting driveway. At this range, I couldn't see a building through the windshield. Just a field and winding asphalt.

I kept my mouth shut.

Anthony lowered his window to type a code into a black box. It opened the gate, and the silent driver continued on.

"Are you worried about him, Sophia?" Anthony asked.

My fingers curled against my thighs.

"Because I think you are," he added, sing-song.

"I think he's out of the Topeka Region by now," I said, knowing it was no longer possible to deny my involvement with Noah.

"With his baby sister?" Anthony laughed. So he knew. "I know that you couldn't find her file," he said, as the truck neared a giant mansion with an additional gate out front. "And I know Rinley is not what he's really after." He knew more than me.

The truck rolled over a bump, and a man dressed in dark green fatigues waved us through. We parked outside the prosperous home. Anthony stepped out of the vehicle, and the two other men pulled me out after him. Pierson held onto my shoulder, and Anthony looked at the other man with disgust. "Go clean yourself up."

The man glared at me before disappearing into the house. Four stories high and wider than a hotel. Windows spanned out over every floor, dark green shutters lining the brown exterior with frivolous decorations. A twisting tree filled the front lawn, and ivy grew up the left side of the house like a painting. It was beautiful, but I was in trouble no matter who lived here. And I know exactly who did. Everyone did.

Phelps.

Anthony cracked his knuckles and stretched out as if he had been innocently exercising. "Shall we go inside, then?"

"It's not like I'm making the calls, Tony," I countered.

Anthony nodded at Pierson. "Watch her." He walked inside quickly.

I tensed. Pierson stood in the sun, sweat collecting on his brow. I looked at him closer now that Anthony wasn't studying my every move. Pierson wasn't much taller than me, but he was strong. The veins on his arms protruded out, callouses digging into my exposed skin where he held my shoulder. I hadn't even realized my shirt had ripped at the collar, but Pierson wasn't looking. He kept his bright blue eyes on the front door. I couldn't imagine how he worked for someone like Anthony or Phelps or whoever had collected me. I couldn't fathom anything since he knew Noah.

"Lie," Pierson whispered so hastily that I thought I was hallucinating.

"What?"