I blink, not knowing what to say.
Hunter smiles at me, revealing the dimples in his cheeks.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “I’d be dead already if it wasn’t for you, and I don’t think I ever told you thanks for saving my life.”
He shrugs. “It’s what I do, Cove. It’s my job.”
Of course.
That’s why he’s here—it’s why I’m here. It’s his job to protect me.
“Who is paying you to do this?” I ask.
“My organization,” he answers. “We’re privately funded, just because we don’t want the government to have any control over us. But trust me, I am well paid.”
“I can pay you,” I say. “After I’m eighteen. I get my trust fund.”
He narrows his eyes. “Trust fund?”
I nod. “My dad, uh… Chris Lawson… he left all his money for me.”
“Chris Lawson.” His eyes widen. “Like, the rock star?”
I nod again.
He lets out a breath. “Yeah, okay… maybe I should read your file.”
“My file?”
“I didn’t want to read it because I didn’t want to read anything personal about you, but I think it’s time I read it,” he explains.
I’m not sure how I feel about this file that Hunter has on me.
“Can I read it?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nope. It’s top secret Spy School stuff.”
“Spy School?”
“I’d tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.” He winks, but I still wonder how true his words are.
What the heck is Spy School?
Tuesday, August 25
5am wakeup call.
Hunter wakes me up at five o’clock in the morning—FIVE! And then he proceeds to tell me to get ready because we’re training.
I didn’t sleep well on Sunday night. I was up half the night, worried. But last night… I slept well last night.
Rubbing a hand over my face, I groan. I know the reason I felt safe last night is because of Hunter. He makes me feel safe, which I really hate. Hunter is a temporary figure in my life—an annoying one, at that. So I don’t want to feel safe around him. I don’t want to trust him.
After going to the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and throwing my hair up into a messy bun, I slip on some workout clothes and meet Hunter in the living room. He’s standing by the front door with his arms crossed over his chest.
“You’re late.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t realize there was a time limit.”
He huffs. “Just come on, we’ve got to get a move on.”
I grudgingly follow him out the front door, ready for whatever this ‘training’ session will bring. I also wonder what we do during a training session. Is he going to teach me how to fight? I’ve always thought it would be cool to learn some style of karate—to be a girl who can kick anybody’s butt.
“Where do we start?” I ask, excited about learning whatever it is Hunter is going to teach me.
Hunter works for some kind of secret branch of the government, so he must be really good at what he does. Especially considering he’s only nineteen and he’s got this kind of job. I’m impressed.
He bends over, tying his shoelace that came loose. “We’re going to run.”
I groan. “Seriously? Running?”
He nods. “You got a problem with that?”
I shrug. “The only way I run is if something is chasing me.”
He grins. “Then I’ll give you a ten second head start.”
“You can’t be—”
He cuts me off. “Ten.”
“—serious.”
“Nine.”
Yeah, I think he’s serious.
I take off running. I don’t run fast, simply because I can’t. I’m completely out of shape.
Running has never been something I’ve enjoyed. I do a lot of walking at home—I’ll go out on trails and hike for hours. But running? Ew. I’ve had no reason to run before. So it doesn’t surprise me that it takes all of ten seconds for Hunter to catch up with me.
“You call this running?”
I ignore him and just keep at my current pace.
He better be happy I’m running at all, especially considering he woke me up at five in the morning. The sun isn’t even up, for goodness sake.
“At least you have good form,” Hunter says. “You have the legs of a runner.”
I have the legs of a runner? What is that supposed to mean?
He clears his throat. “Uh, that was a compliment.”
I glance over at him, raising an eyebrow.
“You looked kind of horrified by what I said, so I just wanted to make sure that you knew I meant it as a compliment. You have nice legs.”
Hunter’s cheeks turn bright red and he looks away from me as we run.
Is he… embarrassed?
“I could run a little ahead of you, if you really want.” I chuckle. “I mean, you know, so you can get a good look at my legs.”
Hunter laughs. “I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”
“Nope,” I confirm. Because this has pretty much made my day.
I manage to run for about ten minutes before I am so out of breath that I have to stop. Hunter looks at something on his phone and shakes his head.
“It took us ten minutes to run a mile.” He shoves his phone back in his pocket. “Pathetic.”
“Pathetic? I thought that was pretty awesome.” I shrug. “I mean, considering I’ve never ran before today.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles.
After that, Hunter does show me a few moves—all of them defensive. I suppose it makes sense to learn that. It’s not like I’m going to be going around picking fights with people, but it would still be cool to learn regardless.
While we break to drink some water, Hunter sits down on the floor in front of me.
“We need to talk,” he says.
Nothing good ever comes after the words ‘we need to talk.’
I sit up straighter. “What did I do wrong?”
“Nothing.” He waves a hand. “It’s just… we need to talk about everything that’s going on with your situation.”
I sigh. “Okay. Just say whatever you need to say. I promise I won’t cry.”
He sighs. “My computer hacker friends are trying to look into who put the hit out on you, but they tell me it’ll be easier if you could help narrow it down.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Um, sorry to tell you this, but I don’t know anybody who would want to kill me.”
“Nobody at all?” He frowns.
I pull at the string on my shoe, needing to do something with my hands. “Maybe my grandparents. They’ve never liked me much.”
“Your grandparents?” His eyes widen.
“Yeah.” I chew on my lip. “My biological dad’s parents have not made their hatred of me a secret.” I pause, sighing. “I mean, they don’t really hate me. They send me gifts on Christmas and my birthday, but they hate the fact that I exist. I’m the dark spot in their son’s too short life. He was an incredible man who did incredible things. Fathering me was not one of the good things—at least not according to them.”