Read Connected (Twists of Fate #1) for Free Online Page B

other way.
    “There has to be. Pick anyone else to email. Any other form of communication. There’s no way you’ve considered all the options. This can’t be the only one.” Like I said , Rhys stated, his voice tight with control, there is no other way.

    *****
    The next morning Addison dragged her sorry ass out of bed and stumbled towards the computer. She stubbed her toe along the way, and cursed Rhys instead of the end table she’d kicked. It was The Voice’s fault she hadn’t slept a wink, The Voice’s fault her little toe felt broken.
    So I’m back to that moniker, am I?
    “You deserve it,” she retorted, a nasty bite to her tone.
    Maybe , he allowed, but it had to be done.

    “Sleep deprivation to get what you want is low, Rhys. Even for you.” She still had the damned song he’d been singing all night stuck in her head. Would she ever get it out?!
    As effective as they were, I am sorry for my methods. His tone was contrite, but she read the underlying satisfaction.
    “You could at least be honest,” she grumbled, throwing her hair up in a tangled ponytail.
    “What makes you think he’s even going to respond to this email, Rhys? Would you respond to an email from someone claiming to have your dead brother in her head? Of course not! You know, the second I send this, he’s going to have the cops or the nut wagon pounding my door down to haul me away, and then where would you be? You’d be on the other side of crazy with me!”
    She hoped exaggerating the possible ramifications would sway his opinion. She knew his brother would ignore it and nothing more, but the damage would be done. How could she explain the pain that could be inflicted by simply hitting a ‘send’ button?
    Are you done, woman? Just trust me on this. I’ve got this one covered.
    “Why am I not reassured?”
    She clicked the ‘compose mail’ button on her screen, and then started mumbling under her breath, panic mixing with trepidation. How could she let him talk her into this? How could she willingly be so damned cruel to another human being?
    “I must be a damned idiot for doing this. I should be committed. Hell, they could name the institution after me—the craziest, most insensitive nutjob in the whole damned place. A soulless creature if there ever was one. There’ll be ground-breaking psychological studies, landmark articles in medical journals, grants received, notoriety abound, parades, confetti—” Rhys’ boisterous laugh interrupted her prelude into hysteria. Jesus Christ, you can be real fucking dramatic when you want to be, huh?
    “Dramatic? Why you—”
    Just shut it for a sec and listen to me. Now I realize lack of sleep has made you ornery, but—
    “And whose damn fault is that?”
    But I’m not going to hang you out to dry, got it? I wouldn’t do that to you. So enough bitching and get typing.
    She drummed her fingers on the keyboard.
    You ready?

    Tipping her chin up, she pointedly closed their connection and looked away from the computer screen in defiance.
    Addison…
    It was a clear warning, but what else could he possibly do to her?
    You don’t want a repeat performance of last night do you? Because you know I don’t need the sleep.
    Defeated, and seriously pissed about it, she opened the link back up.
    “What’s his email address, asshat?”
    That’s my girl.
    “I’m most definitely not your girl,” she snarled, jabbing at the keyboard hard enough to make her fingertips sting.
    Rhys spelled out Xavier’s email address, and then read it back to her…again and again.
    After the fourth time, she assured him it was typed in correctly, but even that didn’t seem to assuage his concerns. Finally she focused on the screen, sending a clear image to him. That did it.
    I just want to make sure he gets it.
    “Yeah, yeah. What do you want in the subject line?”
    Okay, just like this, word-for-word: ‘You have to record Scripted Lives’.
    Addison’s brow creased with confusion, but she did as