Tremble (Denazen #3)(33)
Dialing the number on the paper, I glanced over at Kale who stood, annoyed, at the other end of the hall. With each ring, I told myself some innocuous voice would answer and put my mind at ease. But the phone rang five times before going to automated voice mail. No name and no voice, which equaled useless—not to mention suspicious. I could keep trying in hopes someone would eventually pick up, but something told me whoever this was wanted to remain anonymous. Disappointed, I hung up.
“Kiernan,” Kale barked, rapping the elevator doors. “Let’s go.”
And that was about the time I pretty much snapped. I loved Kale more than anything on this earth, but this guy I was road-tripping with wasn’t my Kale. He was an imposter with a bad attitude, no manners, and a slightly extended vocabulary. My guy was in there, I’d seen hints and sparks, but he was buried deep. I was determined to dig him out, but in the meantime I’d be damned if I let anyone—including Kale—talk to me like that.
I stalked down the hall, stopped a few inches from him, and poked him hard in the chest. “Let’s get two things straight, Kale. I’m not a dog. I don’t obey commands like sit, stay, or let’s go.”
His gaze fell to my finger, then lifted to my eyes, staying there. There was the smallest hint of amusement, but more than that, challenge. With a quirk of his lips, he said, “Is that right?”
“And the other thing? If you call me Kiernan one more time I’m going to kick your ass. My name is Dez.” I grabbed his cheeks and squeezed until it sort of looked like he was making a fish face. In the back of my mind, a small voice screamed that I shouldn’t irritate the unstable assassin, but I didn’t care. I’d reached my limit. There was only so far I could go before losing my shit. “Say it with me now—D-E-Z. Maybe by calling me by the right name, you’ll start remembering who the hell I am.”
He stepped away, eyes still on mine, and in a deceptively calm voice asked, “Is the loss of fear one of the Supremacy side effects?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Hmm,” he said, and turned to push the down button again. “Are you certain?”
Then I understood what he was getting at. Imagine that. The new Kale came with a twisted sense of humor. “You’re mistaking fear for intolerance. I don’t suffer *s.”
The doors opened with a ping and Kale stepped inside. As I followed him in, he turned to me, lip twitching, and said, “Neither do I. We have something in common.”
13
I tapped the hood of the car and waited. Kale had the keys. We were just standing there and I was freezing. If we stayed much longer, I was going to lose a limb or two to frostbite. “Well?”
“Well, what?” he said, finally unlocking the car and pulling open the passenger’s side door.
“You’re the one holding me hostage. What now? We come back in two days?”
“Obviously. I am surprised Simmons exists. I’m interested to see what else might be true.”
I rolled my eyes and slid into the car as he did the same on the other side. “We have two days to kill.”
“We’re killing them together. I’m not letting you out of my sight until I have the truth.”
No arguments from me. If there was a chance his memories would return on their own, this would do the trick. Two days had to be enough time if they were treating him to a mind mushtini each and every day. All I had to do was bide my time.
“Then we should get a room. It’s after five and I’m ready to keel—but don’t get any ideas.”
“Ideas?”
“Us. Alone in a hotel room. Time to kill… You know.”
He looked me up and down and snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. I have a girlfriend.”
I’d been joking—okay, half joking. “Yeah, I know. Me!”
He watched me for a moment with an odd frown, then fastened his seat belt and leaned back in the seat. “I’m actually starting to believe you’re not lying.”
A surge of hope welled in my chest. “Really?”
“Yes. I’m starting to think you really believe your own story.”
“You’re really redefining the whole love/hate relationship thing, here.” I turned the key. The engine sputtered several times but finally turned over, and I said a silent prayer of thanks. Being stranded in the ghetto with crazy-Kale was not my idea of a good time. “And I ask again. Where to?”
“I saw a motel when we got off the interstate. We’ll stay there for the night.”
“And in the morning? Simmons doesn’t get back to town for two days.”
“I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
There was a time not long ago when a statement like that from Kale would fill me with excitement and a rush of tingly possibilities. Right now? Not so much.
We drove back to town in silence, but I could see Kale watching me from the corner of my eye. It drove me crazy, but he didn’t say anything, so I didn’t, either. Let him stew for a bit. Alex was right about one thing. I couldn’t force him to remember. All I could do was be there, present the memories, and let the universe do the rest. Hopefully it wouldn’t take long. Patience wasn’t a virtue I rocked.
We ended up checking into a cheesy nookie motel called Frank’s Fantasy Facility, the only game in town.