by Pema Donyo
"I don't. Look, it's been a week. What information do you want me to find?"
"Anything." Desperation tugged at his handsome features. He tried his best to mask the impatience in his warning, but failed. I caught onto it anyway. The meaning of his expression wasn’t lost on me. "Hack Adrian's computer. Do something so you can impress the CIA."
I pulled my knees tighter to my chest, as if the motion protected me against the outside world. The reliable source of comfort faded away. Even if I wasn't lying to Tristan, I was being used by him. My heart ached. There was no company to feel completely at ease with except my own.
"Is it me or you who they're supposed to be impressed by?"
Tristan straightened his back. "You, of course. This is your mission."
"Exactly. This is my mission. Let me do things my own way."
Tristan didn't respond. He tightened his fists and stared straight ahead. I followed the direction he was looking at. Surely he isn’t making eye contact with… I realized his physical reaction wasn't a reaction to my remark, but the face he saw in front of him.
"What way?"
The new voice entering the conversation didn't belong to anyone Tristan had ever met before, or so I thought. But Tristan was staring daggers at Adrian. His orbs flashed with deadly recognition. I almost thought he was going to take a pebble from the beach sand and shank him.
Adrian seemed unfazed by Tristan's expression. While Tristan appeared like he wanted nothing more than to wring Adrian’s neck, Adrian regarded Tristan with the glance of a stranger.
"Adrian, this is... Javier. Javier, this is Adrian." I cleared my throat, gesturing between the two. "I was just catching up with Javier; he's an old friend of mine.”
"I don't remember seeing you in school." Adrian stuck a hand out for Tristan to shake anyway, and Tristan grabbed it. The two shook their hands like normal strangers for a few seconds, but Tristan's look said their relationship was otherwise.
To my horror, Tristan draped his arm around my shoulder. "Jane's an old ex of mine.” His Italian accent suddenly became a million times more pronounced. “We met at a concert a few years ago." It was Adrian’s turn to glare at Tristan. The tension in the air was suddenly so thick I wanted to take a butter knife and scrape out of there.
"Well, so great to see you." I dipped my voice lower and inclined my head away in the opposite direction from where Adrian stood. "Let me just see you out of here until we see each other next time."
As soon as Tristan and I walked far enough away from Adrian, I punched Tristan's arm. "I'm not your ex! And why did you use an accent?”
"Relax, it was a cover story."
"Well, it's a terrible cover story because..." I gritted my teeth before I could finish the sentence. Time for more lies. "Because I'm pretending to flirt with Adrian.”
“You are?”
“He trusts me more now. I worked so hard to feign interest in him, and now you've ruined it. I was getting close to him."
Tristan’s look at Adrian could still kill. His hand rested over his pocket, where I assumed his gun was. I held his shoulders to both calm him and keep him away from Adrian. “He’s not safe, Jane.”
“Of course I know that; we’re all assassins here.” I bristled. Really, there was no need for the theatrics. “Every boy is a bad boy.” You know, if you defined ‘bad’ by a serial killer.
Tristan shook his head. "He's the man from Russia. He's the one."
"Russia? Who are you talking about?" My eyes widened. I dropped my hands from Tristan's shoulders like my palms burned at the touch. "Adrian? You’re saying Adrian's the one who..."
"Who killed my fiancé, my informant, and ruined my mission." Tristan started forward in Adrian's direction as his hand started to reach into his pocket to pull out the gun.
"Whoa, whoa there." I talked to him like I was calming a horse. I placed my hand around Tristan's, guiding it away from the gun and back to sanity. "Adrian's our ticket to more information about CO, remember? I'm in deep cover. He's more useful to me alive than dead."
"Get as much information out of him as you can. I’ll wait till we're done with this mission." Tristan narrowed his eyes at Adrian, still not looking at me. Revenge clouded his vision. "Then I'll kill him."
"All right, let's calm down right now." I wasn't feeling calm, though, if the throbbing in my head was anything to go by. "If he was the guy who murdered your fiancé and informant, Adrian would have recognized you too."
"No, he wouldn't have. I was wearing a ski mask at the time."
"You were..." Seriously? "Who wears a ski mask anymore?"
Tristan scowled. "Well it worked, didn't it? Adrian doesn't know it's me."
There were still too many questions buzzing around us, waiting to be answered. All the operatives went to school together. When had Adrian gone to Russia?
"Tristan, when did your mission go wrong?"
"May, 2012."
The same month he and I had started dating? I gulped. There was no way we'd covered a mission in Russia. Tristan could have the wrong guy. I mean, I’m sure there were other guys in the world identical to Adrian. Maybe it was some other beautiful tall dirty blond with golden skin and piercing blue eyes. You know, it was a generic look.
But then, he and I hadn't seen each other all the time—there had been school and SAT's and AP testing to worry about, and I'd hung out with my friends without him sometimes but... he'd never told me. You'd think you'd tell your best friend you went to Russia on a secret mission to expose and kill CIA agents!
Apparently not.
Tristan gripped my shoulder. He leaned in toward my ear. "Remember, hack his computer tonight. Send me photos. Send me anything you can get your hands on."
I nodded, unable to verbally reply. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I'd spill out more information than necessary, information which would fuel Tristan’s hatred of Adrian further.
After I walked Tristan back to his car in the parking lot and watched him leave, I felt another hand grab my shoulder and whirl me around.
"Who was he? When did you date someone else?"
I suppressed a groan. Of all the cover stories for Tristan to pick, he had to choose the messiest one for me to deal with.
"It's nothing."
He dropped his hand from my shoulder. His jaw was set, as if he was trying to restrain himself from saying something too harsh. "He touched you and you walked back with him to his car. I would not call what he did nothing."
“Literally, he means nothing to me. I haven’t seen him in years." The lies rolled off my tongue now. They became even easier to say than the truth. "What do you want me to do? Stop talking to him?"
Adrian's guarded silence served as his confirmation.
I rubbed my forehead. There was still an ache. I couldn't stop talking to Tristan. "I can't. He's a... friend of mine."
He furrowed his brows. "I stopped talking to Emma because you were jealous. But you won't stop talking to this ex of yours?"
"So you're jealous too?"
Adrian ruffled a hand in his hair. "I’m not jealous.” He paced back and forth in front of me. I bit my lip, amused at his reaction. "I just don’t like him touching you, that’s all.”
I laughed. "Trust me—Emma likes you, there's actual danger there. But Tristan definitely doesn't like me. There’s nothing to worry about."
"So you can do whatever you want, and I can't?"
"Don't you already do whatever you want?" I regretted the words the moment they slipped from my lips. No point in mentioning the Russia mission, no point in blowing my cover. I played off my slip-up, pretending we were still talking about our love lives instead of our murderous missions. "It was nothing, just one date." I searched his blue eyes for a flicker of response. "It was in May last year. Didn't see you around much during the month."
He coughed. So I'd drawn a response of out of him after all. He met my gaze without fear, but his guard was back up. He placed the mask of indifference on, the look
he used during missions when he wanted to go undetected. "We started dating that month.”
"Oh, then I must have dated Javier before you." I made my tone as dismissive as his. I waved my hand, as if it didn't matter. "I remember you being gone a lot."
"I had tests to study for; you did too."
"Yeah. I didn't see you around as much as usual, though. Guess you had more tests to study for than I did, huh?”
He shifted his weight and glanced back at the beach, where the other agents swam in the water.
I took advantage of Adrian's displaced attention and strode over to him. My voice lowered. "I've seen the way other agents look at you. I have something to worry about too."
Adrian wrinkled his nose, irked. "I thought you already knew."
"Of course I know other girls like you."
"No.”
"Know what?"
He responded by wrapping his arms around me and looking at the water. "Do you remember the last time we were at the beach?"
My memory from the plane ride jumped back to the forefront of my mind. I stiffened. "So?"
"Do you remember what I told you?"
I picked at the unbuttoned oxford shirt he'd pulled over his otherwise bare chest. One hand pressed against the hard muscle, tanned to perfection by the California sun. I leaned my cheek against his chest, bringing myself close enough to hear Adrian's heartbeat. His heart beat fast, drumming in his ribcage as if in anticipation and... nervousness? The great Adrian King of CO was nervous?
"You're whipped." I glanced up to see his eyes sparkling in mirth at my accusation, and I beamed in response. The smile was pure instinct, my natural response to being pulled against him and feeling safe within his arms. "Right?”
"No," Adrian answered with a slow drawl. Goodness gracious, even if he ever was whipped, he'd never admit it out loud. "I'm not whipped." He puffed out his chest a bit, and I giggled.
"So much pride, Adrian King. So much pride."
"Anyway." He interlaced his fingers with mine. "I realized something then.”
"What?” Here we go again, some philosophical question he loves which is supposed to be an answer or a dictionary definition of the word control. The intellectual side of Adrian bubbled under the surface, ready to cross-analyze his remark to death.
"Because I need you, Jane Lu."
Wait, what?
"You don't need me." I emitted nervous laughter, trying to downplay his comment. "You're the next CEO, you said. You're going to lead the next generation of CO agents and you're better at artillery fire than I am and you can always beat me in a chess match.”
Adrian brought his forefinger up to cover my lips. "I need you," he echoed.
Emotions rushed up and down my spine in electric currents. I tingled every place he touched me, and even the beating of the California sun at noon couldn't make me hotter than he made me feel.
He needed me.
He needed me.
Adrian King, CO's next CEO, cold-blooded contract killing machine, murderer of dozens of innocent people without feeling any regret, the most ruthless and dangerous agent of CO who viewed assassinating children with the same cool disinterest janitors viewed mopping the floor, said he needed me.
He brought my hand up and kissed it. Honestly, if I wasn't wearing a tiny tie-dye bikini and he wasn't wearing fire engine red surfer board shorts, I would have felt like I had been transported back to some Jane Austen movie in Regency Era England. The words coming out of Adrian's mouth were all surrounded by an air of truthfulness, and I knew he meant every word. "You're it, Jane. There's never going to be anyone else for me."
"You're the one for me too." I didn't think about the words leaving my lips. I forgot CO, murder, and espionage. I let go of the fact I was in deep cover. I was Jane Lu, best friend and girlfriend of Adrian King, and we were two California teens who were crazy about each other. We were like any other couple able to experience first love. In the moment, we were as normal as anyone else. "Adrian, I love you."
He didn't say it back, but I didn’t expect him to. He answered by running his fingers feather-light down my forearms and kissing me hard enough to bruise. The kiss almost felt like an attack; it felt like a claiming and a marking and a bonding all at once. When he finally rested his head in the crook of my shoulder and neck, I hooked one arm around his neck to bring myself closer to him. My other hand rested on the back of his head as his soft dirty blond hair pressed onto my palm. My fingers ran through the hairs at the back of his head, and he groaned.
It was insane how strong we were apart from one another and how vulnerable we were together. A thought flashed through my mind: we make each other weak.
"I need you to know now—whatever happens in the future, I love you." I murmured the words into his ear, my voice barely above a whisper. Visions of a future without him flashed before my eyes. The feel of him against me was hypnotizing, and I clung to his hair tighter in order to shoo away the daunting thoughts of what lay before us. "Whatever I do, whatever you think I've done – I love you."
****
The days at the beach house passed by like a dream. I woke up in the morning in the same bed as Adrian, our limbs entangled and the breeze blowing through the curtains. Then we'd go downstairs to join the rest of the group and assemble some mass breakfast of pancakes and eggs and oatmeal and even the packages of Oreos and the boxes of donuts we weren't allowed to eat while at CO. I was surprised CO allowed us to stay an entire week, but the summer vacation season was usually the slowest for murders. CO could spare us.
The afternoons were filled with him as well. Both Adrian and I snuck away from the rest of the group to find some beach cove where we made out, or to swim far out into the water to surf. But the evenings were the best. It was the last evening, the night before we headed back to CO and away from Paradise, when we built a bonfire and Emma finally spoke to me again.
Adrian was deep in discussion with Tristan about the best way to choke someone, whether with an over arm lunge or an under arm lunge. I heard bits and pieces of it from my spot next to the fire. He'd wrapped a blanket around me, and I pulled it closer around my body against the chill evening air.
"Hey." Emma's voice sounded as casual as if we'd never stopped talking. Her wet hair said she'd just come back from swimming with Gwen, and her red bikini was all she wore. She didn't seem to be cold, though. Not even her gaze was cold anymore. Hesitant, maybe, but no longer mean-spirited like weeks earlier.
"Emma." I kept my tone off-hand. Why was she talking to me all of a sudden?
"Seems like you and Adrian have been getting along lately."
I tried to keep my voice level. "Glad you noticed."
"Look, I'm not going to pretend anymore. Adrian's wrong for you."
I coughed. Somehow, I wasn't surprised by the turn of conversation. "You're entitled to your own opinion."
"Jane, you need someone who isn't involved in so much danger. Someone who isn't trying to put you in more danger than you deserve.” Emma's eyes locked with mine. I noted with surprise how there was nothing sinister in her expression. Her honest eyes and plaintive voice meant what she was saying. "Adrian is involved with so much more than you know. You could get hurt. He's hiding things from you."
Weren't we all? My train of thought jumped from my espionage to his secret Russia assignment to me hiding Tristan's identity. Surely Emma was referring to one of Adrian's secret missions he wasn't telling me about. At least for now.
"Emma, we're all involved with secrets at CO."
"No. You don't get it." Emma shook her head at me like I was being stupid. "Adrian is lying to you."
My heart stopped, then started again. I didn't know whether to believe her or not. She obviously wanted him to be with her instead of me. She was trying to break us up, I decided. I gazed back to the fire. The embers were dying. I scanned the shadowed ground next to the fire, searching for a stick to stoke the blaze with.
"Why would you think so?" I finally found the sti
ck I needed and poked the flames, watching them roar to life as my apprehension rose as well. "Even if you think Adrian is lying to me, what makes you say that?"
"I don't think. I know. He doesn't want you to find out what he's been planning behind your back." Emma's warning morphed into a plea. "He's going to hurt you. I know he is. He's going to keep deceiving you and using you until it's too late for you to leave him.”
I glared at her. "I know you like him, Emma. I know you'd rather him break up with me, but I'm sorry. Adrian and I are stronger than you think. You can't convince me to leave him." I stood up, turning to leave. I'd had enough of Emma's attempts to deceive me about my boyfriend.
"Jane, wait." Emma stood up as well and walked over to face me. She sighed. "Yes, I like Adrian. I’ve never denied it. But I'm trying to warn you. You don't know him as well as you think you do. You won't like his plans for you."
My blood ran cold. "Plans for me?" I mouthed, looking down at the ground in confusion. There was something about Emma's tone which scared me—it wasn't dishonest. She was telling the truth as she knew it; she was completely convinced what she was saying to me was nothing but the reality of my situation.
"Emma, what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to be careful." Her mouth drew into a grave line of solemnity. "I want you to stay away from him. Not for me, but for your own sake."
"Why is him dating you better than him dating me? If I'm in danger right now, then you will be too."
Emma shook her head again, like I would never fully understand what she was trying to convey. Well, I would, if she didn't stop speaking in so many riddles. It was like she was speaking a different language, and I was supposed to interpret the vague hand gestures which went along with them. "I'm not the one he’s planning for. The plans are for you, Jane. You are the reason Covert Operatives won’t be the same.”
Before I could respond, Emma walked away from me. She brushed past my shoulder and back toward the beach, as if she'd said all she needed. My fists curled in frustration. I still had no idea what she was trying to warn me about. I already knew I needed to be careful around Adrian. My throat constricted as her words replayed in my head. How could I even believe what Emma was saying? She'd ignored me since I returned.
