The Phone

I looked at the phone in my hand. All I needed to do was press send and maybe I'd hear his voice again. That beautiful cockney accent saying "Hallo", just the thought of it was enough to make my eyes itch with tears I wouldn't shed. I thought I'd shed every tear I had for this separation two years ago, apparently not.

He wouldn't recognize the number and wouldn't be able to trace it either. Ah the joy of a prepaid cell phone bought in a store in one state and being in a completely different area of the country neither anywhere near where I lived and paying cash.

But what if he had moved on like I asked him too? Could I handle knowing he had? What if he hadn't moved on but was as miserable as I was. Would I be able to be strong and hang-up without speaking like I knew I would have to be?

I unconsciously rubbed at my hip where the tattoo identical to his rested. It was my only connection to him, other than this number that flashed on the phone.

Then the fear that I pushed aside every morning, noon and night raised its ugly head. What if he was dead and there was no answer?

"Cat? You coming?" Tate Bradley my second in command called.

I sighed and crushed the phone and started towards the helicopter waiting to take us back to the compound. It wasn't the first phone I'd done that too, I thought as I let the damaged phone fall to the pavement. Knowing it wouldn't be the last either.

Across the country:

"Expecting a call, Crispin?"

Bones looked up from the phone in his hand and shook his head as he slid it back into his pocket. "No mate. But for a moment there I had the strangest feeling someone was going to."