Wyatt’s phone announced an incoming call. Val looked up and mouthed “who” when Wyatt just stared at the screen.
“Kevin,” Wyatt said in a low voice. At the same time, he put the phone to his ear and answered. “Hello.”
“What the fuck did you tell my wife, you cocksucker!” Kevin shouted in Wyatt’s ear. Val froze and raised his eyebrows. Wyatt shook his head and leaned against a chair, and Val went back to digging through the box.
“Little early to start drinking, even for you, Kevin,” Wyatt said calmly.
“She told me this morning she’s filing for divorce, and I know damn well you’ve been talking to her,” Kevin snapped.
“Kevin, if your wife wants to divorce you—and I can think of a dozen reasons why she’d want to do that—it’s not my fault. I have nothing to do with it,” Wyatt said, voice as hard as he could make it. “She’s probably fed up worrying about you giving her the clap. Or worse.”
Val winced and sat straighter. He held a book against his knees but barely glanced at it. His attention was riveted to Wyatt again.
Something outside banged to the ground, drawing both their attention. When Val stood up and started toward the door, Wyatt grabbed his arm and stopped him, shaking his head and whispering, “Whatever it is, ignore it for now.”
“You know I’ve thought about killing you plenty of times over the years. I even planned it out, but never went through with it. I had enough chances, and I should have taken them. I won’t make that mistake again,” Kevin growled in a low, strange tone of voice. Wyatt’s blood ran cold.
“Kevin! Kevin!” Wyatt barked into the phone, but the connection had gone dead. His fingers tightened around Val’s arm to the point Val squirmed away.
“We’re leaving. Now.”
“Huh?” Val didn’t budge. He dropped the book into the box. “What did he say? That book—”
“Bring it. I’ve got a bad feeling, and we’re getting out of here,” Wyatt said. He reached out and took Val’s elbow just as Val leaned down and scooped the box up, tucking it under his arm.
Wyatt hauled Val from the storage locker. He stopped only long enough to shut and lock the door. When Val took a few steps toward where they’d parked their car Wyatt lunged at him, wound one arm around his waist and shoved Val back.
“Stay behind me. Keep quiet,” Wyatt said. He stopped and looked around, taking in every detail.
“What the hell is wrong with you? What did Kevin say—?”
“Val! I’m serious. Shut up. Kevin Fells is one person on this earth, when he threatens to kill someone, I take him very seriously.”
A Barlow Lens is available in eBook, paperback and through Kobo Plus. This month the English edition is on sale for $2.99.
Interested in French or Spanish editions? Look at my Translations page.
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