by A. M. Rose
Maddox tickles my feet.
“Knock it off.” I kick at him. “Come on. Let me sleep.”
“Out of bed, lazybones.” He yanks the pillow off my head and then goes for my blanket. But I’m way ahead of him, holding on for dear life. He’s strong, though, and the blanket and I slowly slide toward him. “Stop! I sleep naked.”
“You little liar. I wish you slept naked. Or even scantily,” he whispers. His eyes narrow, challenging me. But when I don’t move he jumps up. “Come on. Get up.” His voice is louder now. “Let’s have some fun. If we leave early, we can check out the city before we have to leave.”
“No way.” Dylan calls out from behind the bathroom door.
I groan and roll over. “That sounds like fun. Wake me in about two hours and we’ll do that.”
Maddox pushes up and down on the mattress, shaking the bed and making it impossible to sleep. “Let’s go.”
I sit upright. “Fine, I’m awake. Are you happy?”
Dylan walks out of the bathroom. “We still have to get up the mountain. We don’t have time to mess around.” His gaze shifts from Maddox to me, than he busies himself putting stuff back into his bag.
As much as I kind of want to punch Maddox in the throat for waking me up so early, and Dylan just because, I’m torn. Dylan doesn’t want to go. Which means Maddox’s idea of staying and playing is even more intriguing. Yes, I want to get up the mountain and see what’s there, but at the same time I want to feel normal again. A day in the city may be the last day I could ever feel halfway normal again. And doing something spontaneous reminds me of a day I spent with Dad. It had started off like any other Wednesday morning. Wake up, dressed, breakfast, hop in the car for another riveting day in Mrs. Elder’s sixth-grade class. Except when we got to the end of the street, Dad took a left instead of a right.
“I thought we’d do something a little special today,” he said.
I wasn’t about to complain. My heart thumped with joy, and I remember I smiled so big it hurt my cheeks.
We started off at the Museum of Art, where Dad never complained for a second about spending all our time in the photography exhibit. Then we took a ferry ride in the afternoon where we got to meet the ferry boat captain, and we visited the USS Midway.
I learned and experienced so many things I never had before. We ended our day at our local coffee shop. When I asked Dad why we went to the same coffee shop we always go to, after trying so many new places for the day, he said, “It isn’t always about where we end up. Sometimes it’s about how we get there.”
This feels like one of those times. Except the place we’re going to isn’t a familiar, warm coffee shop. We’re headed for a place that’s going to change my life forever. As much as I want answers, I’m not sure I’m ready. And Dylan doesn’t want to go, so there’s that, too. “Don’t be such a party pooper. When are we ever going to be in San Francisco again? It’s still early.”
“Yeah, bro, it’s only a few hours’ drive. There’s plenty of time.” Maddox slips his hands in his pockets.
“I don’t know.” Dylan’s eyes are tired, not sad because of what happened between us. Or didn’t happen. At least that’s what I need to believe. With everything else going on I can’t keep doing this with him.
I throw the blankets off. That settles it. “We’re doing it.”
“Are you sure?” Dylan asks.
No. “Absolutely.”
Dylan is surprised, really surprised. It’s written all over his face, the way his eyes bulge and his mouth is slightly open. He’s used to making the plans, being in charge. I’ve always drifted into them, or waited until he was done with his thing and had time to spend with me. Well today I’m calling the shots. I shouldn’t feel so satisfied looking at his face, and I almost feel bad that I do. Almost.
Again, Dylan’s glance travels between me and Maddox. For a second he looks like he’s ready to argue more. Then he shrugs. “Fine. But we can’t hang out here all day.”
I want to stomp my foot, but don’t. I’m being stupid about everything. The room feels warmer, and I need to get some air. “I’ll run and grab us some breakfast from the buffet downstairs while you two pack up.”
“No way. We’re not splitting up. I’m coming with you.” Dylan sits down and slips on some socks.
“I’m ready, too.” Maddox zips his bag closed.
I glare at him knowing he’s right. That I’d be stupid to go alone. “Fine,” I snap.
Dylan clasps his hands in his lap and stares at the floor, but he doesn’t say anything more. Maddox busies himself digging in his bag and stays quiet.
I shut myself in the bathroom and take my time getting ready, just so I have a second to breathe.
As we ride in the elevator, last night pushes itself to the front of my mind. Not just the dream about Maddox kissing me, but the real kiss. How warm his lips were. How tight he gripped me, like he really wanted to kiss me. How when it was over all I wished that it was Dylan. Except it wasn’t. And I’m wondering if it ever will be. My eyes slide between them. Maybe I’m an idiot for even hoping. Actually, I know I’m an idiot, but I can’t help how I feel. Maddox probably doesn’t even remember, anyway. I’m probably just another girl in the long list of who he’s been with. It’s not like he’s mentioned it or made any indication he remembers. I guess it’s what I get for letting some drunk guy kiss me. It’s something he’ll never remember and something I’ll never forget.
The elevator dings so we all grab our bags and step out into the lobby. It’s been transformed since last night, without any hint that it was a thumping club full of gyrating bodies. Now business men and women strut through with their briefcases, talking on their cell phones. Probably off to make important deals.
We get into the buffet line behind a big guy in an “I heart San Francisco” shirt who smells like motor oil and drop our bags, no one saying a single word as we wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Replaying every single minute of the last twenty-four hours in my mind is torture. We really shouldn’t hang out in the city at all today. There’s too far to go and too much to do. Too many questions I still need answers to. I wish I could put all these memories away. Lock them deep in the back of my mind. Maybe today will help with that. Who knows, maybe it’ll be fun.
I laugh to myself. Who am I kidding? Today has already started off horribly, but I guess it can’t exactly get any worse.
Time slowly ticks by, and the line finally creeps forward. Mr. Motor Oil grumbles to someone on his phone that he’s going as fast as he can.
“It’s the people making waffles that’s slowing everyone down.” Someone up ahead of me growls.
Everyone groans, including me. I want to grab some bagels, not mess around with making waffles. But instead of complaining, I watch the clerks at the check-in desk. A man dressed all in black slides something across the counter. The clerk in a professional blue suit and bright white shirt peers around the room then casually takes whatever it is and slips it in her pocket. His phone number. Or a tip. Or maybe he’s trying to get a free upgrade. Even though his back’s turned to me, something about him seems familiar. His frame is large, his hair is dark. I shift uneasily from one foot back to the other. The clerk slides her hand along her perfectly groomed ponytail, leans toward the man in black, and then he spins around.
I suck in a breath. My heart stops.
Green eyes sweep the room, looking for someone.
Looking for me.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
It’s him.
I’m numb—shaking, gripped by fear. The Green-eyed man stands out like an ink drop on an empty page. At least he does to me. People shuffle past him like he’s just any other person. If they only saw him the way I do, they’d quicken their pace, maybe even run away screaming.
Maddox grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me behind a pillar.
Dylan’s on his heels. “What’s going on?”
Maddox pu
ts a finger to his lips and peeks around the smooth marble column. “I saw that guy at your lacrosse game and heard him asking someone if they’d seen Drea. It seemed pretty sketchy, but I didn’t want to scare you, so I didn’t mention it.”
Dylan locks eyes with me, and it makes me tremble more.
Maddox crotches down and drags his bag back behind the pillar. Dylan already grabbed ours.
As much as I want to run in the other direction, I need to know what he’s doing and if he’s seen me. A flare of panic sweeps through me as I glance at the boys before peeking around to watch him. He turns back toward the clerk, then walks over to the concierge desk, stopping along the way to check out something in his hand. His head snaps up, he checks around, then throws something in a trash can and runs off toward the doors to the street.
“We should go.” Dylan tugs on my sleeve.
“No, wait,” I say, and we all stay hidden, until he’s pushed through the doors and is well out of sight.
Curiosity takes over. I cross the lobby and stare at the garbage. People will wonder what I’m doing. They might even stop and stare. But what do I care? I need to know. So I take a breath and dig through the bin, looking for whatever he could’ve thrown inside. Luckily it doesn’t have the scent of stinky trash. If anything it smells like coffee.
“What are you doing?” Maddox asks.
I ignore him as I slide a banana peel to the side. It couldn’t have gotten too deep. Right under a newspaper and inside an empty Starbucks cup, I find an old cell phone. This has to be it. I glance at the boys then take off and slip around the corner toward the gym, sliding my back down the slick wall until I’m sitting in a deep squat. It takes me only a second to figure out how to turn it on and once I do, a message pops up on the screen.
LGRF567: The alternate tracking device has been located in San Leandro.
MOVE!
I chew on my lip. This confirms it. He was the one following us yesterday in the black SUV. I click a few buttons and find another message.
SRLT237: Testing will begin as soon as the subject is here and confirmation of her identity can be ascertained.
Contact your source for
The phone gets hot, flashes, and then goes black. It smells like burnt metal. “No. No. No.” I need to know what the message says, and to see if there are any more. My finger holds down the power button hoping—praying—it’ll turn back on. Work, you stupid piece of… I slam it against my palm.
“Drea, stop and tell me what’s going on,” Dylan says.
But I can’t stop. I have to get this thing turned back on. They have to be talking about me. I need to know what they know, and what they’re after. Damn it. If things weren’t already complicated enough, now this. Ignoring the boys’ pleas to talk to them, I rip the back cover off and the stench gets stronger. Burned wires, fried circuits. It’s completely destroyed. There’s no hope in fixing it. In finding out what they were talking about.
Bile rises in the back of my throat. I stand up and throw the phone on the ground with all my strength, smashing it into a thousand pieces. I don’t know if I want to punch something and scream or melt down into a puddle and cry. All I know is enough is enough. We need to get out of here and figure out where this locket is taking us. And get as far away from the Green-eyed man while we can.
“Drea.” Dylan grabs my shaking arms. “What the hell is going on?”
I pull in a deep breath and square my shoulders. “We need to go. Now.” I grab my bag from Dylan and race toward the parking lot. The boys stay quiet until we’re standing next to the Jeep.
Dylan unlocks the doors. “Will you please tell us what that was all about?”
“That thing I found said they want to perform tests on me or something.” I glance at Dylan. “It’s just like you told me.” I should be upset or scared, but I’m not. I’m furious.
“Then why the hell did you smash it? We could’ve used it.” Dylan rubs the backs of his neck, clearly annoyed with me.
I throw my hands up in frustration. “It completely died in my hands. The insides all burnt up. It was unsalvageable.” If there had been a way to fix it, my head would’ve told me. But looking at the melted mess of metal, I knew it was a lost cause. I kick an empty takeout cup. It tumbles a few feet under a blue car. Completely anticlimactic and unsatisfying. I clench my hands at my side.
“Well, I guess this means no time for fun. I suggest we all get in the car and get as far from here as we can. We should turn our phones off, just in case.” Dylan holds the power button down on his phone.
I don’t hesitate before I shut my phone down, too.
“Dude, you need to shut your phone off.” Dylan taps Maddox’s arm.
Maddox digs in his jeans pockets, then checks his jacket. “Shit. I must’ve lost it.” He reaches into his bag and searches inside that, too. “It was almost dead last night, so it’s as good as gone.” He shrugs.
Dylan shakes his head and walks to the back of the Jeep to throw our bags inside. I pace again, digging my hands through my hair.
Maddox moves closer, his hands inside his pockets. “Are you okay?”
I glare at him and then take a breath and soften my expression. After all, it isn’t his fault this is happening. “I’m fine.” I clench my jaw. “I just don’t understand what that guy wants from me.”
“Drea. You’re special.”
I stop and stare at him, but he’s already staring at me. Eyes fixated. My heart pounds for an entirely different reason. Maddox takes a step toward me, closing the distance between us. The kiss. Images flood my mind. His gaze shifts down—maybe he’s remembering, too. I open my mouth to say something, how I’m sorry. That I shouldn’t have done that. But words get trapped in my throat, and I end up making some weird gurgling sound.
“You guys going to stand here all day? Let’s go.” Dylan’s voice is tight, his shoulders hunched. He wraps his fingers around my arm and pulls me toward the car.
“Hey. This isn’t a hostage situation. You’re cutting off the blood supply to my fingers.”
His grip loosens, pink blossoming on his cheeks. “We need to hurry,” he mumbles.
Our eyes catch, and his are the first to slide away.
I turn away from both of them and climb inside the Jeep. After Maddox pushes into the back seat and Dylan slams the door, we’re off. The car is quiet, except for the stereo. I don’t know about the boys, but I’m lost in my head, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time.
I’m all messed up inside. Not knowing what to do, not just about Maddox and Dylan, but also about the Green-eyed man. He didn’t have one tracking device; he had two. An alternate one. That’s what that message said. Assuming they figured out the one I found in my phone wasn’t with me anymore. Not that I have any idea where he put the second one, or how it got all the way out to San Leandro. It doesn’t make sense. But then again, nothing really makes sense anymore. If there were two, could there be more? And is it even worth worrying about now? I dig my nails into my palms and stare out the window.
It seems inevitable that he’ll find me again.
Chapter Thirty
As we make our way up Highway 80, I decide to let Maddox know where we’re going, at least kind of, since I’m not 100 percent sure myself. Without giving him a lot of details, I let him know there’ve been weird things going on with me, and we’re hoping to find some answers. Maybe it’s the way Dylan scowls at him in the rearview mirror, but he doesn’t ask any questions. Which is good, because I don’t really have any answers.
As we get close to the locket coordinates, my mind clears and a picture of exactly where we need to go pops in my head. There are trees, so many trees, and it isn’t going to be easy to get there, but still I need to go. The force willing me to follow gets stronger and stronger, the closer we get. I can’t explain it. And without hesitation, I willingly obey. “Take the next exit.”
Dylan glances over at me. “Are you sure? That’s not what the map says.�
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“I’m positive.” I don’t think I’ve ever been surer of something in my life. And it isn’t just the way my blood is humming.
He flips on his blinker and follows each time I say right or left. We’re getting close. My fingers tingle with anticipation, and my left knee won’t stop bouncing. The dense brush that’s been alongside us starts to thin, and that’s when I know.
I point. “Pull over there.”
Dylan glides onto the side of the road. “What are we doing here?”
I press my face against the glass. “It’s over there. Behind all that brush is the road we need to take.” I gesture toward the right ahead of us.
Dylan follows as I jump out of the car and slam the door behind me. The wind whooshes by, and I wrap my arms around my body and move along the side of the road, my feet kicking up dirt with each step. But it isn’t enough to keep the icy air out of my bones. If I thought San Francisco was cold, I was wrong. This isn’t just cold, it’s freezing. I try not to think about it as I make my way over to the bushes, push around them, and point. Behind them and through the trees tacked with no trespassing signs is a clear path, not a road, but it’s too far to travel by foot from here. And we have to get there, as soon as we can.
“There, that’s it.” My teeth chatter.
Dylan inspects the area and walks around the bushes to the far side before coming back. I’m not sure how, but he doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold. “I think if we go past it over there we can get onto the road without having to deal with all of this.”
We climb back into the Jeep, and I crank up the heater to melt the ice in my veins.
Maddox pops his head forward. “So what’s going on?”
“Just sit back and relax.” Dylan slowly drives off the road and around the bushes.
The dirt road gets more and more narrow, the trees closing in like monsters. The farther we drive, the more unstable the ground is beneath the car. Packed dirt becomes loose stones. The Jeep scrambles to find traction. After Dylan nearly swerves into a tree for the third time, I pull up the emergency brake.
