The door slams, and I sink down into my chair. This is not how I wanted to start off the trip. At odds with the lethal spy I hired to keep me safe. The man who grew from the overprotective, outrageously handsome boy who stole my heart the day we met and broke it ten years later.
The man who killed my brother.
“Way too many complications, Dani.” I drop my head into my hands. “This isn’t going to end well.”
* * *
I tossand turn for hours. This is a mistake. Trusting Trevor with my life isn’t the problem. I know he’ll protect me until his last breath. But all these feelings I have for him and about him, it’s like they’re all trying to spill out at once, and that’s going to make me sloppy. It’ll dull the sharp edge I’ve honed over years of having to forge my own path.
Sometime after 2:00 a.m., I sink into sleep and immediately find myself trapped in a dream.
“Give it back!” I lurch forward and try to snatch my lunch bag from the tall eleventh grader holding it over her head. “That’s mine!”
“Let’s see what the little charity case has today!” Bethany cackles as her friends grab my arms and pull me away from her.
Tears shine in my eyes, but I squeeze them shut. I can’t cry. Not in front of the mean girl squad at Whispering Pines High School.
“Peanut butter and jelly. And chocolate milk. That’s baby food.” Bethany pulls open the Ziplock bag, dumps my sandwich on the ground, then stomps on it. When she pours the chocolate milk over the mushy bread, I lose the battle with my tears and start calling her every name I heard the worst of our foster parents say over the years.
“Hey! Let her go,” a deep voice booms, and then one of the girls holding me drops my arm and runs for the classrooms. “Bethany, stop picking on the freshmen.”
I turn and have to look up as the one boy in the whole school I don’t want to see me cry stalks over to us and wraps an arm around my shoulders. “You okay, Dani?”
With a sniffle and a nod, I stare up at my rescuer. Trevor. He’s a junior. On the soccer team. And friends with Austin. He even comes over to our house some afternoons and hangs out. Though never with me. The two of them hole up in Austin’s room playing video games. But when he stays for dinner, he always smiles at me.
“Oh. Trev,” Bethany says, her voice so much higher than usual. Nicer too.
“Get lost.” Trevor steps away from me, and the absence of his warmth makes something inside of me twist in pain. But then he holds out his hand. “Come on. I have an extra lunch ticket. It’s pepperoni pizza day.”
I wake up with tears in my eyes. Trevor bought me pizza every day for a week and ate with me at the juniors’ table. Even now, I don’t know where he got all those tickets. He was trapped in the system, just like Gil and I had been. But unlike us, he was never adopted.
I sigh as I roll over and pull the pillow against my chest. These are going to be the longest few days of my life.
* * *
Trevor
Dulles at 5:00 a.m., even on a Saturday, is a madhouse. Concourse A teems with people, most half-asleep. Or at least that’s what it feels like as I’m waiting in line at the security checkpoint. Pretty sure no one in front of me has ever flown before, and even with my security clearance—and guaranteed TSA pre-check—it takes an hour to make my way to a coffee stand four gates from where I’m supposed to meet Dani.
Adjusting my duffel, I reach into the hidden pocket of my jacket for my phone, run it over the scanner to pay for my Americano, and then lean against the wall to wait for my order and scan the crowd. People watching isn’t a hobby. It’s self-preservation honed over years of covert missions. Eyes, ears, and brain. The three most valuable weapons a spy has.
A couple at the gate in front of me is headed towards divorce. Each carries years of resentment in their expressions and body language. The three twenty-somethings sitting across from them are high as kites. I caught the stench of weed as they passed. And the woman rushing towards the coffee stand dressed in a pair of simple black linen pants, a muted orange tank, and a matching black jacket…is nervous as hell and trying too hard to hide it.
After Dani orders a quad-shot almond milk latte, she turns and startles as she sees me. Her cheeks darken slightly. “Sorry, I’m late. Security had to check every single one of my hidey-holes.”
I stifle my chuckle. “That’s their job, Danisaur.” The childhood nickname slips out before I realize it, and she takes a sharp breath. “What? Did you think I forgot?”
“I…I didn’t…no. You just haven’t called me that since we were kids.” She rummages in her messenger bag for her wallet, but I lean over and run my phone over the reader until it beeps. That shuts her up until both our coffees are ready on the sideboard. “Trevor? About last night…”
“It was my fault. I don’t know why I called you Daniella—except that no one’s calledmeTrevor James Moana since my dad died. Though the whole poking me in the chest thing? Don’t do that again.”
Dani nods as she takes a sip of coffee, then grimaces as she tries to hoist her backpack onto her shoulder while balancing the steaming cup.
“Give me that,” I say as I hold out my hand.
“No. You’re not carrying my—” But I already have the backpack over my shoulder before she can finish the sentence, and she huffs as she rushes to keep up with me. “I’m not helpless, Trevor. I normally make these trips all by myself. Just like a big girl.”
The sarcasm grates along my spine, and I shoot her a look. “Didn’t say you were. But you hired a pack mule who can fight. So let me do my job.”
