Stepbrother Thief(94)

“I'm in Seattle,” I say, knowing that if Gill told her where I was that it's okay to admit to it. Hell, it's not like Karl's been having problems finding us anyway.

“Shit,” Leilani whispers, her voice muffled. “When I hadn't heard from you in weeks, I thought you'd been kidnapped or something. Don't ever do that again.”

“I'm sorry,” I say, leaning back into the cushions, relief flooding through me at the sound of a familiar voice, my voice of reason from a very, very young age. “You wouldn't believe the shit that's going on over here.”

“Yeah, uh, Gilleon for starters. Why on earth are you at Gilleon's house? What are you doing with him, Regi?” I lick my suddenly dry lips and try to come up with a response. Leilani knows everything about Gilleon, our whole story, including Solène. “No, no, no, don't answer me right now. I'm getting coffee and some of those salted caramel things you like from Fran's.”

“I think Gill'd gut me if I gave away his address,” I say, concerned more with the idea of Leilani coming here to meet me and putting herself on Karl's radar. I can hear her exhale over the phone, can imagine her running her fingers through her chocolate dark hair, a red flush coming over her olive rich skin. “Soon though, soon. You, uh, know how his work can get.” Leilani also knows pretty much everything I know about Gill's business ventures—well, as much as I knew before this heist.

“Okay, okay, sure, but …” I can hear her struggling to find the words to talk to me, to make sure I'm alright without outright asking. “If you need me, I'm still where I've always been, the little green house in North Beacon Hill.” A smile stretches my lips as I press pause on my movie.

“I remember from the pictures you sent me. Still working on that whole Food Not Lawns thing?” A soft chuckle passes through the line, tinged with a bit of relief that I'm not ending the conversation yet. Just because we can't meet up in person doesn't mean we can't chat. Hell, I haven't seen Leilani in person in a long, long time. At least there's Skype, right? Although a lagging video chat isn't nearly as good as the real thing …

“Not officially, no, but you'll recognize the place from the dead corn stalks wilting in the front yard. We had legumes this year, too. You know, beans. Oh, God, and the pumpkins? I still have some homemade pumpkin bread. I'd love to give you some.” A pause. “Are you in trouble, Regi?” she asks finally.

I bite my lower lip and try to decide how best to answer that question.

“It's … complicated.”

“Gill complicated or … just complicated, complicated?”

My turn to pause.

“Both.”

Leilani sighs again, and I can just imagine her shaking her head, glancing over at her boyfriend/soul mate, Ellard, the only person I know who loves online roleplaying games as much as she does. In fact, they actually met playing an online video game. Go figure.

“Well, if you need to, you can always come and stay here—Solène and Cliff, too. You're all welcome always.” I notice she doesn't mention Gill's name in there. Of course she doesn't. This is her subtle way of voicing her disapproval over whatever she thinks might be happening here between me and my stepbrother. Too bad that whatever she's thinking can't possibly be worse than the real thing.

“I know, and thank you.” I pause and fiddle with the blanket in my lap, pulling at the fibers with my nail. “Have you talked to Anika lately?” My breath catches in my chest as I wait for a response.

“Yes, I have. And as soon as Gill called me, I called her because I was afraid you wouldn't. She was worried sick, too, Regi.”

“I know.” I glance over at Aveline who's stopped typing on her computer and is now staring right at me, green eyes sharp and lips twisted to the side in bemusement. The woman doesn't even try to pretend that she doesn't eavesdrop. Since Gill's not around, I guess I'll be asking her if it's safe to call my sister. “I'll see if I can get ahold of her after I'm done talking to you. If not …”

“I'll call her tomorrow just in case,” she says, without needing an explanation. Sometimes that's all you really need in a best friend, somebody that doesn't judge, that doesn't ask; I appreciate that about our friendship. Leilani didn't even balk when I told her I was in love with the stepbrother I barely knew, and she cried a river the day I said we were moving to France.

“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it. I hope she can tell.

“Now go call your sister,” she demands and then pauses as a voice sounds in the background. “Ellard says hi, too, and he can't wait for you to come over, so he can cook you something out of our garden and we binge on another Supernatural rerun.”