Page 117 of Sunny Undone

“I’m sorry,” Evan repeats, and I look at him properly, for the first time. He’s sweating profusely, and his hand shakes as he retrieves the gun, pointing it in my direction. His skin is a worrying gray color. “Into the shed, now.”

He gestures to a small outbuilding, tucked back in the trees, that appears to be covered in corrugated metal. There’s a small square window but it’s too dirty to see inside.

“Not until you tell me why you’re doing this?”

He gestures with the barrel of the gun. “Move, Della. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

I blow out a breath, wondering what Sunny would do, right now. But he would probably never have let himself get into this situation in the first place. I take one last look around for any way to escape, to run. But with my hands tied, I’m in an impossible situation.

The inside of the shed is cleaner than I was expecting. Metal racking lines the wall facing the door, and there are huge bags of what looks like soil and compost on the shelves. To the left is a large vat with warning signs all over it.

There’s a second window with an old table pushed up to the wall beneath it with two chairs, one wood and one plastic, pushed up against it.

“Take a seat,” Evan says, pulling the plastic chair out for me before taking up watch by the window. He looks, twitchily, left and right. He nibbles at the skin on the side of his thumb, then uses the back of the hand holding the gun to wipe his forehead.

My whole body is consumed with shivers. Fear. Adrenaline. Emotions I don’t know how to control. I look around for weapons, sharp edges I could rub the plastic zip tie against to snap it open, anything that might help me out of my predicament.

The promised sound of bikes never comes.

“We can fix this,” I say as my opening gambit. “Whatever this mess is, Evan. We can fix it.”

He huffs. “No. You can’t.”

“Tell me about it. Maybe I can help you. We can look at the pro⁠—”

“Problem from all sides and see if a different angle gives us a fresher perspective,” Evan snaps. “Blah. Blah. I remember all your lectures. But it’s bullshit. All of it.”

“Is someone making you do this, Evan?”

He doesn’t say a word, but he looks at me sharply, as if I guessed something and I surprised him by getting the answer right.

And then, a sharp sound breaks through the silence. A phone.

Evan goes to the top pocket of his shirt, and I see the moment he realizes his phone is missing, but then, he tugs a second phone out of his jeans pocket. It’s an old brick of a phone. I doubt it even has data. And the word burner leaps into my mind.

“Where’s my phone, Della?” he asks as he looks at the one ringing in his hand.

I shrug. “I have no idea. You’re always losing that thing.”

He answers the phone. “I’m here.”

My heart suddenly jolts back into race mode. Guess it wasn’t done trying to beat through my chest.

“I will…and then we’re done, Bennett,” Evan says.

Bennett. I raise my eyes to the ceiling as a wash of helplessness floods through me.

Where are you, Sunny?

Shouldn’t he be here by now. Or…oh my God, when the battery died, so did the Outlaws’ ability to track where I was. They’re going to be combing a much wider area to find me.

There’s a pause, and he starts to pace. “You promised. This is not what I agreed to. It was just supposed to be some data.” A pause. “You can’t make me do that.”

He looks stricken when he turns my way. And it isn’t a huge leap to conclude he’s been told to kill me. He puts his hands over his mouth and blinks several times. “Understood.”

Then, he hangs up.

“Evan. If you’re in with Bennett, that’s⁠—”