“Hey there, little lady –”
Nightshade cut him off with a wave of her hand and kept moving. The last thing she wanted to do was cause a scene by kneeing some overzealous stranger in the nuts.
A huge crowd burst out to her left in a steady stream, completely blocking her path forward. Heart thumping in her chest like a piston, Nightshade dove forward, pushing through the tightening noose of people. Not for the first time in her life, she cursed her short stature. She rose up on tiptoes, trying to see over the group, only to come back down frustrated — the black head of hair was no longer visible.
She had to be imagining things. Surely her dad wouldn't show up and blow her whole mission, would he? Maybe he thought she’d taken too long.
“You’re too weak. You’re too soft. Why can’t you just do as you’re told?”
The harsh words from her past, words from her father’s lips when he’d repeatedly taken her to task for her failures, sifted through her mind like hot coals, burning her insides.
“You can do better. You can run faster. How could you let me down like that? Don't you want to save your sister?”
Her erratic heartbeat tumbled to her stomach. No longer caring about being noticed, she sliced through the crowd, shoving people out of her way. She spotted the man again, nearly running now.
Then she was ten feet away. Seven feet. Five feet.
She was finally within distance to reach out and touch her father’s arm. He turned slightly, and when she caught a glimpse of his profile, she nearly went to her knees.
It wasn’t her father; it wasn't Jack Mankel.
She hadn't failed him.
Hands shaking and stomach tight, she bolted into the women's bathroom nearby and slammed into a stall, gulping in huge breaths of air as she tried to get her pulse under control.
What was wrong with her? She'd never lost control like that? Even in the most life-threatening circumstances, she always remained in complete control of her surroundings and, most importantly, of herself.
No, she knew what was wrong. Nightshade had gotten comfortable in her twin sister’s life. The open loving family of Francis and Harriet and Fernando tapped into a well of longing she’d kept buried for a long, long time. She’d never wanted money or power or even acknowledgment. She just wanted to know what it was like to be loved.
And that was the weakness her father had so frequently tried to drill out of her.
When she’d found out about her twin sister, Nightshade knew she’d finally have someone love her unconditionally. She’d thrown herself into this mission at high speed and had lost control. She would crash at the current trajectory; there was no doubt. And when she did, she’d take her entire team down with her.
She banged a fist against her forehead, clenching her teeth as she tried to get herself back under control. She could do this. She just had to pretend a little bit longer, and then she could escape Harriet’s warm hugs and Francis’s delicious meals. She could escape Cotter telling her how much he loved her every day. She could escape the scorching intensity and desire between her and Merc.
She had to.
No matter how much she wanted this picture-perfect life, she had to remember it wasn’t hers to keep.
Nightshade shoved open the stall door and staggered to the mirror, thankful the bathroom was empty. She looked at her reflection, so different than normal. The red lipstick, red dress and heels. The curly hair and makeup. “See? None of this is real anyway. Do you think these people will love you when they find out the truth?”
Nightshade felt a familiar emptiness creep back into her soul, spreading until she was fully engulfed.
No, when they found out the truth, they would hate her.
