by Ruby Knight
I had lost control of the situation by not reining in my hormones. Great. Someone would give me crap about this. Without a doubt.
I dropped his hand and picked up the laptop, assuming the tech on the other end got my message any evidence of the agency should be completely hidden when I reopened the device. Boys were always hungry, right? Food was the answer. Delay via his stomach. I opened the pantry and played Vanna White to the food it displayed.
“Have whatever you want. There is stuff for subs in the fridge.”
I went around the table and opened the laptop so the screen faced away from Cole. The basic computer home screen pulled up and just like magic, the information I needed to help Cole with the English assignment made itself available on the display.
Cole made himself comfortable in the kitchen, rummaging through cabinets and piling toppings on a plate of chips. My lips pressed into a smile, making my control slip. He glanced up at me. Caught. I shook my head slightly.
“I just had to reboot. So bring your food over. I hope you made enough for both of us.”
Cole carried over a plate of nachos covered with anything he’d found in the fridge. I would be lying if I said I wasn't impressed by his ability to make something out of nothing. He gave me a half-smirk that had me pushing back the emotions every seventeen-year-old would feel when the Cole of their school smiled at them like that.
I wasn't every girl. I was trained, and well.
I swallowed once and forced my heart rate to slow and my breathing to become deeper. Stupid, stupid hormones. But hormones, I could control. I’d been taught every single way to push the emotions away, and I did just that.
Cole flinched slightly when I slipped my well-formed mask into place.
“Why do you do that? Every time I feel like we are about to break into something deeper than the weather, you shut down. Your eyes change. The green in them swirls around and gets darker. You put up these walls higher than the Empire State building.”
The mics placed throughout the apartment had to have heard that, and just in case anyone at the agency wanted to replay it over and over, they had the video to view. I would be in trouble for this. How could he even recognize a change in me? I hadn't flinched, not one hair on my body raised in alert to the shift in my emotion.
“I can see your mind reeling, and I know you don't share a lot. I get it. Really, I do. Everyone at the school knows you don't share your secrets. I get that, too. I haven't ever had anyone care enough about me to talk about…” Cole paused and waved his hand in front of his face. “This shit, either. But Julia, you can trust me. I'm not going to disappear on some flight the second I get a phone call, like your dad does. I know he is away on business right now, and I'm guessing he is away what? Ninety-five percent of the year?”
Holy rant.
I nodded slowly. Maybe the time had come to turn on my fake water works. My actual dad was in Salt Lake probably setting up the annual family winter retreat to Park City. I had been on skis since the age of three and hadn't been back to Salt Lake for longer than twenty-four hours in the last six years. I missed my parents, so part of the tears actually would be real.
Cole walked over to me and pulled me into his arms and crushed me against his chest. Surprising how comfortable I felt in his arms.
Wrong, Julia! You aren't allowed comfort, only calculations.
How could I spin this to be a gain for my country? Cole obviously wasn't as close to his father as our intel had suggested. Having me in place was a security precaution.
He placed his lips against my ear. “Come for a ride with me. My bike is in the garage.”
I nodded against his chest and looked up directly at the camera.
“Are you trying to tell me you don’t want to get your homework done?” I mocked shock on my face.
He smirked at me and rolled his eyes. “First time I have been able to get your attention all year. Yeah, I don’t want to do homework.”
He trailed his fingers along my arm. This was it—hook, line, and sinker. Cole was done for. Who knew how easy it could be to make a boy fall for you? A few glances here, a couple touches there, and bam, we were going to his place.
“Let me grab my coat and put on some different shoes before we go.”
That was about as much heads-up I could the agency if they felt the need to tail me. I slipped off my five-inch heels and avoided the urge to rub my feet. Those shoes hurt, but any New Yorker wouldn't even know the difference.
I opened my lavishly appointed closet and grabbed a pair of combat boots and socks, slipped on leggings, and threw on a hoodie followed by a leather coat. I walked out to find Cole sitting on my bed, smiling like the cat that ate the canary. I hadn’t closed the closet door as I changed. Had never needed to in the past. Dumb.
“Did you just see me?” I began as Cole started nodding with far too much enthusiasm. “You know that isn’t the gentleman's way of handling things. You should’ve waited outside my room.”
I raised my eyebrows at him.
He held up his hands.
“I never claimed to be a gentleman,” he said with a wink.
I rolled my eyes with so much exaggeration it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck in the back of my head.
“Head out of the gutter, Thomas. Let's go,” I said, shaking my head.
Cole pushed off the bed and followed me out of the apartment.
“I want to run up to my place, change clothes and stuff,” he said as he reached for my hand, like that was something completely normal.
I nodded. We were already out in the hall when he made the statement, so I didn't know if comms had heard it or not. I didn't need them busting in his door. I twisted my stud diamond earring in my ear and clicked on my practically invisible earpiece.
“All right. I'm excited to see how much better your apartment is than mine.”
My attempt to get the message across to the agency that I was going up a few flights, instead of down on the elevator. My earpiece clicked.
“We hear you. Going up to lover boy’s, got it.”
I cringed and switched off the piece. If Cole's dad was as paranoid as the agency made him out to be, he no doubt had some sort of device that detected bugs, and I wasn't going to get caught with mine on. Cole turned back to me and shook his head. He pulled out his wallet and fished out a black key card that gave him access to his penthouse.
The elevator opened directly into a stunning marble foyer that had to have thirty-foot ceilings. The chandelier hanging in the entry sparkled like the diamonds in the Tiffany and Co. windows on 5th Avenue. I let out a breath and Cole draped his arm lazily over my shoulders.
“Come on. My room is on the second floor.”
This place was huge. The floor plan the government had on file wasn't nearly as detailed as it should have been. If I had ever been sent here, I would have been screwed. I made a mental note to add everything I saw to the schematics in my safe. I stopped when we passed through two double doors and into the great room.
“Wow. This is stunning.”
No fake emotion here. At least the agency wasn't here to monitor my reaction. Cole laughed and pulled me along. It was what he saw every day and my view was good, but a lot more of the city could be seen from up here. The claustrophobic feeling I got on the streets from time to time existed a world apart from this penthouse suite. Or maybe it had to do with the idea that I wasn't being watched right now. My head was still over my shoulder taking in the view when Cole came to a sudden stop.
“I didn't know you were in town, sir.”
He slid his arm off my shoulder, and I didn’t exactly love the cold that crept up in its absence. I looked up into the empty green eyes of what appeared to be Cole plus forty years. Hank Thomas. His lips were pressed into a firm line; he trusted no one, apparent by the way he held his body and the intimidation he was used to commanding. He held out his hand. I reached to shake it, and he gripped my fingers uncomfortably tight.
“Hank Th
omas,” he said coolly. “You are the girl that lives on the thirtieth floor, if I'm not mistaken. I still have yet to meet your father. When will he be in town next?”
Not good. I couldn't tell if I was made or not yet.
“I'm Julia Statton. This is my dad's busy season. He won't be back until the end of the month and, even then, he will probably only stay for a day or two to refuel before heading to Prague.”
My fingers were going numb from the force of Hank Thomas' grip. Cole placed a strong hand on his father's arm.
“We go to school together, Dad. Julia's dad is gone as often as you are. Stop grilling her. You know what it’s like to have the majority of your clients overseas.”
Hank Thomas slipped on a mask I was familiar with: the fake happy one.
“You’re right, son. I'm sorry, Miss Statton. I tend to be a bit protective of my son.”
He finally released my hand. His eyes twinkled as he waited for me to show weakness by shaking off his crippling grip. I didn't give him the pleasure. Cole grabbed my other hand and entwined our fingers.
“We’re going for a ride. I’ll see you when I see you.”
Anger showed on Hank Thomas' face as he took in our hands and his son’s attitude. He quickly replaced it with a calm façade.
“I am going to be leaving tonight for a while. I'm not sure exactly when I will be back,” he said.
Cole shrugged. “You never are. It doesn't really matter.”
Hank eyed me and dropped his gaze to our linked hands again, then looked up at Cole.
“I want you to join me this week. I have one of the jets set up to bring you to me on Wednesday afternoon. I've already cleared it with your school.”
Cole tensed and gripped my hand a little tighter.
“Dad, you know I want nothing to do with you and your business. I just started a new semester and changed classes. I can't just take off whenever you feel the need to try to act like a real father,” he spat out.
Hank Thomas glared at his son. The animosity wasn’t something I had been expecting; our intel hadn’t pointed to any disruption in their family unit at all. In fact, it was the exact opposite. They went to Yankees games together and brunch every Sunday. Was this teenage rebellion, or had we been that wrong?
“Not up for discussion. I already cleared it with your school and told them I have provided a tutor for the time you will be missing. Enjoy your night.”
Hank walked past the two of us toward a door that had a fingerprint scan to allow access to the room. He placed his thumb on the device and waited as his identity was verified.
Cole pulled me toward his room. This wasn't good for the agency. Hank taking his son out of the states would be for very specific reasons. He had done it in the past during intense discussions involving his dealings in the Middle East. Hank pulling him now meant something was coming.
Cole slammed his door shut and pulled his fingers through his hair.
“How wrong is it to hate your father? Is it because I’m seventeen, or is it because he’s the biggest asshat on the planet?”
I laughed and then covered my mouth. Cole had just described the agency’s biggest problem as an asshat. Hank Thomas really was, in all honesty, exactly that.
Chapter Three
I sat at Cole's desk and looked out over the darkening skyline. He was changing his clothes back in a closet beyond my field of vision. Even after the confrontation with his dad, he remained calm, calmer than I had expected him to be. I had to admit it impressed me. For a boy with no real understanding of what his father was capable of, he held his own. Cole was his own person, unapologetically, much to his father's dismay.
“Ready, Julia?”
I stood up from the desk and turned to see him dressed in tight jeans and a leather motorcycle jacket. I swallowed my lust for him and reminded myself we’d never even have crossed paths in this world if I hadn’t been assigned to babysit him by the government.
“Yeah.”
A smile crossed my lips when he held his hand out to me. I took it and tried to ignore the adrenaline that pumped through my system.
Cole guided us out to the balcony that overlooked Central Park. Blending in with the building was a discreet set of stairs camouflaged seamlessly into the architecture to anyone looking directly at them. He kept his fingers linked with mine as he pulled me up the stairs. We should’ve been going down. My steps were hesitant, but his warm smile kept me going up to what was a waiting helicopter.
Why would we need a helicopter? I squeezed his hands, betraying my reaction to the surprise.
“My garage is in upstate New York. Care if we ditch school tomorrow?” Cole asked.
I shook my head and plastered a grin on my face. Of course, he wouldn’t ride a bike like that in city streets. God, the wealth of these kids and the toys they had. I didn’t know if I would ever expect it. A grin spread across my lips, but fear still shot through me, not helped by the rush of adrenaline.
I reached for my earring to switch my comms on. The agency didn’t know that I was leaving Manhattan.
“Where upstate is your house?”
The whirling of the chopper blades echoed in my earpiece as the agent on the other side asked me to repeat. I didn't trust it enough to know my cover wouldn't be blown. I had never really done anything reckless. I was prepared for field work, but nothing prepared you for a one-on-one with a boy, a cute boy. Growing up in Utah hadn't allowed me to have a lot of wild abandon. Besides, I had been in the government's care since I was a kid. Who knew I had a thing for bad boys?
Every single move I’d made since Eisenhower had been made with purpose, calculated to get a direct result for the government. I wasn't just an agent; I was a trained assassin. The injections I’d been given from the moment I arrived at the academy chemically enhanced my physical abilities. I ran faster, had trained harder. Hell, I might even have better vision. I could for sure bench press more than the average guy my age.
How did I land in all this? My dad was retired Air Force and would do anything for the United States. That sense of patriotism was ingrained in me, so my parents had had no doubts when they’d sent me to Eisenhower. I could've easily handled Mr. Thomas earlier, but that wasn't the hand we were currently playing.
My ability to read, analyze, and react to situations before most people could blink was the ace up my sleeve. The agency I worked for didn't even know the extent of my ability. The program I was trained under was classified well beyond the clearance that regular CIA agents had. Eisenhower reported to the Director of the CIA, and most candidates were hand-picked by the president of the United States.
If I were to be activated under the Eisenhower protocol, my decisions would supersede any orders given to me by my current superiors. It remained typically pretty hard for most men in the government to take orders from a girl, especially a nineteen-year-old. Eisenhower chose to push me through the Central Intelligence Agency. I was placed there for their benefit.
But even now, I wasn’t sure of their ultimate goal. I did know that, if activated, the chemical reaction my body would create would be lethal to my target. I gave my body and soul away to the government, for the safety of the country I love. Apparently, the agency and the protocol had the same agenda for the time being, or else I would have been pulled off of Cole a while ago. Still, sometimes, the lack of control in my actual life scared the crap out of me. I didn’t do a single thing without clearing it with the government—a form of prison if I’d ever heard it. I wasn’t behind bars, but I was theirs. What would happen when they were finished with me?
Cole leaned over to help me with the straps on my seat belt. I let him, even though I was more than capable of attaching the harness. My thought process had me too consumed to care. He handed me noise-canceling headphones with a mic attached. The helicopter blades loudly rotated and Cole spoke to the pilot through his mic, but I wasn't privy to the conversation as my device didn’t have access to their comms line. I read his lips, but I co
uldn't see the pilot’s face to know what he was saying. Something about his private estate in upstate New York … somewhere near the Catskills?
Catskills?
That had to be at least a two-hour flight. Suspicions regarding my current situation erupted in my head. I began reviewing the last few hours in my mind, without the distraction of having to look into Cole's green eyes.
If I hadn't been distracted by his boy-next-door/built-like-a-Roman-soldier looks, I would’ve realized that this situation had been out of my control since we’d left my apartment and the watchful eye of the government. My instincts shot on high alert and I refused to be swayed anymore by my emotions for this boy, locking them into the box my training had given to me, and slipped on my mask that allowed me to be happy, fake, and calculating.
The city slipped behind us, and the landscape changed from industrial to rural. Darkness had almost fallen, but the last remaining traces of light outlined the gorgeous scene before me. I had never approached upstate New York from a helicopter. The view of the Catskills proved to be beyond any picture I could have found on Google. Seeing nature’s beauty through my own eyes, rather than someone else's camera lens, never got old.
The first time experiences were the ones that shaped our souls. I would look back on this moment when I was old and wrinkled and no longer an asset for the government. Cole slipped his hand onto my thigh and found my fingers. He looked at me through long, thick eyelashes and smiled. I smiled back, controlling every muscle in my body, even though the smile wasn't fake. My senses were on high alert and my skin tingled. I couldn’t pinpoint why.
We landed on the backside of an estate completely surrounded on every side by mountains. Well-hidden, almost fortress-like. From what I could see, the stone compound was massive. It could easily be as big as the Heidelberg Castle I’d seen while on a mission in Europe.
The chopper touched down and the blades stopped spinning. I unhooked my harness and replaced the headphones. Cole’s stare had turned intense and burned wherever it touched. He looked different when I turned to face him, like I was looking at a different Cole altogether.