Page 86 of Wristlocked

“I think she might have something of mine.” Gia glances over at me. “Of ours. I’m getting it back.”

“Found it.” Chloe rattles off an address in Queensridge, about fifteen minutes away.

“Just text it to me, Mom.” Gia shakes her head.

“Oh. Of course.” A brief pause while Chloe navigates the world of twenty-first-century technology. “Do you need backup?”

I almost laugh at the offer, marveling at the novelty of having Chloe Laurent on our side. Maybe Gia got more of her fire from her mother than she knows.

“Thanks, Mom, but we’ve got it handled. Lyot is with me.”

“All right, darling. But make sure to tell Celeste I said hello.” She laughs. “I’d love to see her face when you do.”

“Maybe Lyot will take a picture for you.”

This time Chloe’s laugh is more of a snort. She sounds like Gia, and a grin breaks over my face, surprising me.

“Gotta go, Mom,” she says as we reach the Acura. “Thank you.”

“Any time, darling.”

Gia holds out her hand.

“I’m driving.”

I give her the keys without arguing.

I expect her to be nervous on the drive over, but she grips the steering wheel with two hands and plays Bad Omens loudly over the speakers, her mouth set and determined.

“This is kinda dark,” I observe, after listening through the second chorus.

“It’s our song.” She gives me a tight smile.

“Ours? Or yours and Gale’s?”

“Both. All.We’re anallnow, remember?” She releases her death grip on the wheel and takes my hand. “I need to remember what I’m going to battle for.”

It takes almost ten minutes of ringing the bell and banging on the door before Celeste opens it, and there are at least three dogs barking in the neighboring yards. Hopefully, no one will complain. This is the kind of neighborhood where people like their privacy with a healthy dose of silence.

“Gia. Elliot.” She stands in the doorway in a silk dressing gown, looking pissed but feigning surprise. “My office hoursopen tomorrow at two.” She goes to close the door, but Gia barrels past her into the entryway. I guess in this kind of house, they call it a foyer. Celeste startles back, and I use the opportunity to slip inside and close the door behind me. The space is lit by a small chandelier and another light in the exposed hallway up the stairs, but the rest of the house is dark.

“Where is he?” Gia demands, her eyes flitting to the stairs and then back to Celeste.

“Who, exactly, are you looking for?” The older woman draws her dressing gown around her with her customary poise.

“Don’t give me that shit. You know who.”

“If you mean Gale, he’s not here.”

“Bullshit.” Gia starts for the stairs. When Celeste starts to follow, I put myself in front of her, shoving my hands into my pockets to keep from appearing too threatening. The last thing we need is her calling the cops. She eyes me but doesn’t try to push past.

“Gale?” Gia calls, hesitating at the top of the stairs. For all her bravado, I’m not sure she’s quite ready to find Gale in Celeste’s bedroom.

“I assure you, I am quite alone. At least I was until the two of you barged in here.” She’s calm now, even smug, and I’m afraid she’s not lying.Fuck. I was sure this was the worst-case scenario, but what if he’s reallygone?

“Have you seen him at all tonight? Or talked to him?” I can’t keep the desperation out of my voice, and she studies me, curious.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d care,” she says. “Weren’t you the Laurents’ favored playmate before Gale came along?”