by Joy Jenkins
A Sercret Service
Joy Jenkins
Girl Power Galaxy
Copyright © 2020 Joy Jenkins
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
ISBN: 978-1-7361896-1-0
Cover design by: Benjamin Dehart
Library of Congress Control Number: TXu002152401
Printed in the United States of America
To Gracie Face for being the best friend, sister, writing cheerleader, roommate a girl could ask for! I wuv you!
Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Epilogue
Bonus
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
The mahogany grandfather clock in the Principal’s office ticked impatiently, its dark wood echoing that of the imposing desk in the opposite corner. Carter slouched in her chair, legs crossed, arms folded, her expression one of mild amusement. She had seen this office before.
“Mr. Owens,” Principal Withers said. “I appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to be here today.”
Carter glanced at her father: his rigid, military posture, his immaculate black suit.
“I know you must have a busy day with the President, so I will come right to the point. Your daughter,” Principal Withers shot a look at Carter as she busied herself by picking a piece of imaginary lint from her wrinkled uniform, “dislocated a young man’s shoulder.”
Carter raised her hand. “Technically, sir, he dislocated his own shoulder.”
Beside her, Carter noted the tightness around her father’s lips, the squinting of his eyes, the twitch in his eyebrow. She had seen that face before.
“As I was saying, Ms. Owens is lucky Zac Warren’s shoulder is healing. Carter has already served her punishment for her actions while you were out of town. But I wanted to be sure to bring this to your attention since this was her first offense.” He cleared his throat pointedly. “That is, her first physical offense. Detention was assigned but should this happen again, Carter would be facing suspension. Possibly expulsion.”
Carter met the Principal’s gaze straight on.
“Thank you,” Carter’s father said, never once looking at Carter, “for bringing this to my attention. I assure you this will not happen again. Was there anything else?”
“No, that was all,” Principal Withers said, rising. “If you will excuse me, the water main at Thomas Jefferson Academy burst last week and we are receiving one hundred of their students this morning. I have a hectic day ahead of me.”
“Good day,” Carter’s father said, as the two men shook hands.
Snatching her messenger bag off the floor, Carter slung the strap over her head and followed her father. The stiffness in his shoulders, the staccato tap of his shoes, the avoidance of his gaze spoke volumes. Only when they stepped out of the school and walked towards the parking lot did Carter dare to speak.
“So…” she said.
“Carter, what were you thinking,” her father said.
He spun on her, making her stumble back a step.
“I thought…” she took a breath. “I thought we needed father-daughter bonding time. So I picked the most annoying kid I could find. Believe me, half the school was thanking me.”
“Carter, Zac Warren could have pressed charges. I taught you self-defense to defend yourself, not so you could use it on some politician’s son.”
“Seriously?! Captain, do you think I did this for fun?”
Her father crossed his arms, staring down at her. “I don’t need to remind you that you dislocated a student’s shoulder.”
“The guy was beating up on a girl! I couldn’t just stand by and let that happen.” She folded her arms, mimicking her father’s posture. “You taught me to help the little guy.”
“So you dislocated his shoulder to stop him?” he asked, trying to poke holes in her defense.
“Not at first,” Carter said. “I tried to talk him down. But when that didn’t work, I put him in a lock. I clearly told him what the consequences would be if he tried to move. Unfortunately, he didn’t listen.”
Breathing in, her father looked up at the cloudy sky while Carter watched him. After a moment passed, her father relaxed his shoulders.
“Sarge,” he said, turning his gaze back to her, “why didn’t you inform a teacher?”
Carter sighed. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. You know the kind of guy. If someone didn’t stop him he would keep finding victims. You know I’m right.”
Her father weighed the truth in her words and what he knew about his daughter. “Unfortunately, I do know. But that changes nothing. Next time, when talking someone down doesn’t work, let a teacher handle it. Don't resort to violence. Understood?”
“Understood.”
Moving toward the door to his black SUV, Carter’s father hesitated. Carter tensed.
“What is it?” she asked.
Letting out a heavy breath, he met her eyes. “Sarge,” he said, his voice rough. “I think it’s better to tell you now than tonight.” Carter’s stomach clenched as she crossed her arms. “I know it’s unexpected and I said I would be home for the next two weeks but I’m leaving again tomorrow. Four-day trip.”
Throat tightening, Carter kicked at a pebble. When she looked up, she saw an apology in her father’s eyes.
“So you’re leaving again? I’m getting the feeling you don’t like me,” Carter mocked. “You keep finding reasons to leave. Sometimes I think you like this President guy more than me.”
Her father squeezed her shoulder affectionately. “It’s only four days, Sarge.” He tilted his head down, holding her gaze. “We can’t afford a lawsuit, so I need you to stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”
“If I did stay out of trouble then when would we ever have these lovely times together?”
Her father pulled out his keys. “I think we can find a better
way to spend our time. How about this: when I come back we can go to the shooting range. Or do one of the training courses with some of the guys.”
“Anderson still pissed that I got the jump on him in our last round?”
“You’re an eighteen-year-old girl and he’s a trained Secret Service agent. You answer that.”
Carter tapped his chest with her finger. “I’m your eighteen-year-old daughter. Anderson should have remembered that.”
“His mistake.”
Her father wrapped her into a tight hug. A crushing weight filled Carter’s chest as she held onto him with a silent ferocity. When he pulled back, he laid his hands on her shoulders.
“Remember, I’ll always find you. That’s a promise and a threat.”
She gave him a teasing smirk. “So you’re saying I can’t run away with my Marine boyfriend?”
“Not funny,” he said.
“I thought it was. Besides, your promise would be more impressive if there wasn’t a tracker in my necklace.”
He gave her jaw a playful nudge with his fist. “Nevertheless, you have my promise. Now promise me you’ll stay out of trouble.”
Carter tossed up her hands in the air like he had asked her for the moon and the stars in a duffle bag. “You take the fun out of everything. Yes, you have my promise.”
“Good,” he said, kissing her forehead.
He climbed into the car and rolled down the window. Carter planted her crossed arms on the rim. “Remember, you’re signed up to take a bullet but that doesn’t mean you have to take one in the chest. I’ll take a superior father over a hero. Heroes suck.”
Chuckling, her father started the car as she took a step back.
“I let Maggie know about the trip so you’ll have company,” he called out. “I love you, Sarge.”
“Love you too, Captain,” she responded, saluting him as the SUV pulled away.
She stayed frozen, watching the car disappear into the river of traffic. Turning back towards the school, she gripped the strap of her bag, her carefree expression dropping away. As she cut across the parking lot, a man wearing a black suit climbed out of a town car. Spotting Carter, he paused and shook his head.
“If it isn’t Carter Owens,” he said.
Releasing her death grip on her bag’s strap, Carter smirked, “Anderson.” She nodded to the back of a mother and son heading away from Anderson’s car. “On carpool duty, I see. Do you and your fellow soccer moms wear those suits or are you trying to start a trend?”
Anderson grunted in annoyance. “Hey, I heard your old man is abandoning you again.”
Carter shrugged even as her throat tightened. “Nothing new there. You don’t have to worry about me, Anderson.” She started walking backward. “Unlike some people I know, I can take care of myself.”
Chapter 2
As Carter reentered the school, she dodged around a group of students in the middle of the hallway blocking traffic. Approaching her locker, she eyed the gangly, bespectacled boy who stood immobile next to it, his mouth open. He was staring at the polished boy with a self-satisfied smile standing at the center of the group: Mason Douglas.
Studying the gangly boy’s face, Carter felt as if she knew him from somewhere. He wore a Thomas Jefferson maroon blazer, marking him as one of the new transfer students, so she doubted they had crossed paths before. His brown hair stuck out in places as if he were a cartoon character and his uniform looked a size too big. When she noticed the cuffs of his blazer, she paused. They were frayed. Just like hers.
“Hey,” she said to the boy, “you won’t make it far here if you go around staring at people. It’s weird.”
“What?” The boy shook his head. “I wasn’t…it’s not…I’m not staring…"
Carter faced her open locker. “Right, my mistake.”
The boy pushed his black framed glasses up his nose. Which Carter noted were fake. As if unable to stop himself, the boy glanced back at Mason. “Okay, I know I was staring but it’s strange.” He stared down at his shoes and mumbled, “I never expected to see him in person.”
Carter didn’t think the First Son was ever worth seeing in person.
“Well, now you have,” she said. “I’m guessing you found his All-American Boy Veneer isn’t as shiny as it is in photos.”
The boy nodded, looking back toward Mason. “Yeah, he’s not what I expected.”
Carter snapped her fingers in the boy’s face. “The staring thing is weird, remember? Besides, you don’t want Mason’s attention, in my experience it usually isn’t a pleasant thing.”
The boy frowned. “You’re not a fan of the President’s son?”
Carter shrugged. “Let’s just say that I’ve known Mason for four years, I’ve known you for four minutes and I already like you better.”
The boy froze. For a second, Carter thought the stunned boy might pass out from disbelief.
“Really?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Carter said. “But that all depends on how the next four minutes go.”
To Carter’s surprise, the boy smiled and held out his hand. “I’m Link Evans.”
If her dislike of Mason made this boy breathe easier, Carter had a feeling they would get along fine. She shook Link’s hand. “Carter Owens.”
When she saw Link twist his head to glance at Mason, she grabbed a stack of textbooks from her locker, and pushed them into his arms. “Hold these a second, okay?”
The top book slid sideways and Link scrambled to keep the load balanced. He read the title of the top book. “You take advanced chemistry, too?”
“Yeah,” Carter said, adding a stack of notebooks to Link’s pile so she could get to her history textbook. “It’s extremely bor-“ she choked off her last word, noticing how Link perked up. “So…you like chemistry?”
“It makes sense to me. Everything has a way it should be. An order it goes in,” he said, his words tumbling out. “There are aspects of that in math but I feel like it’s too restrictive, there’s not enough experimentation. Also, I love seeing how combining two different elements can produce a vastly different result!” He pressed his lips together and shrugged as if trying to downplay his enthusiasm. “It’s kinda like life, you know?”
Carter was struck by the thought and the fact that this boy could do more than stumble over himself. “I honestly never thought about it that way,” she said. “But if you like the subject, you’ll like Mr. Rojas. He does a good job of explaining everything so that it makes sense and it’s not a completely different language.”
Taking back her notebooks from Link, Carter dumped them into her locker. “So…your school’s water main burst, huh?”
“Yeah. We all got a notice this weekend. Mine said I wasn’t going back and had to come here instead.” As he spoke, Link surveyed the hallway, his gaze hesitating on Mason. Carter punched his arm and Link cringed, rubbing the sore spot.
“Ow! What was that-“
Carter cocked her head in silent accusation and Link winced. “Right, staring. Sorry.”
“And if you learn not to stare, you’ll find that Hamilton is just like Thomas Jefferson,” she said. “There are people you’ll like.” She mockingly gestured to herself making Link chuckle. “And there are people that, if I were you,” she stared at Mason then focused on Link. “I would avoid like the plague.”
“Alright,” Link said, nodding to her advice. “Then are you the only one who doesn’t like the First Son?”
As Carter opened her mouth to answer, a new boy in a maroon blazer appeared from the dense throng, stopping beside Link. Link straightened at the boy’s sudden presence. The boy glanced from Mason to Link.
“You ready to go?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Link said. He gestured from Carter to the newcomer. “Carter, this is Donovan.”
Where Link was a pale, thin, rumpled boy, Donovan was a lean, tan athlete. Link slouched, while Donovan had a careless air but a stance that said he was prepared for anything. The pair were night an
d day.
To top it off, Link seemed to retreat into himself as if his friend’s presence made him become invisible. The smiling boy from a second ago faded.
Something didn’t fit.
Carter knew she wasn’t going to like Donovan.
Donovan said nothing to Link’s introduction but instead gave Carter a brief nod. Somehow he made one gesture both a greeting and a dismissal.
“Come on, we should get to class,” Donovan said to Link.
Link pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. “We have…“
“A.P. History with Philips,” Donovan said, cutting Link off. “That’s in the…”
“West Wing,” Carter jumped in, annoyed with Donovan for not letting Link finish his sentence.
For the first time, Donovan gave Carter his full attention. The intensity in his dark blue eyes unnerved her. She had the distinct impression he was memorizing the defining points of her face. He studied her like she studied him.
“You have A.P. history too?” Link asked, unaware of the silent appraisals. “Can you show us where it is?”
Carter nodded. “Sure.”
Link perked up, his expression as open and eager as Donovan’s was closed off.
“You don’t have to,” Donovan said, cooly. “We’re fine on our own.”
Seeing Link deflate, Carter took a step forward, eyes locked on Donovan. She had no intention of leaving Link, Donovan would simply have to give in.
“I can show you, it’s not a big deal,” Carter said with the smile of a stewardess.
“We wouldn’t want to inconvenience you,” Donovan said, gently tugging Link backwards.
Carter raised her eyebrows. “You understand it’s not a crime to accept help, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“I can help,” she said. “It’s a new school and a confusing layout.”
Donovan held her gaze, unyielding. “I have it memorized.”
“You know about the two staircases on the second floor where only one leads in the right direction?”
“Yes. I know.”
The bluntness in his tone told Carter to leave them alone. Retreating a step, she held up her hands in surrender.
