Crossing the Line

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Crossing the Line Page 20

by Meghan Rogers


  He was still staring at me. “What’s wrong?”

  I was tense but I wasn’t shaking. The little adrenaline I had left was keeping the craving at bay, but the more it wore off, the more agitated I felt. I didn’t know if I could handle when it did—I didn’t know what I would do. “I’m—sorry,” I said. “I should have noticed the guard was gone.”

  “That wasn’t your fault,” Travis said, shaking his head. “I told you I had a way out.” He was quiet for a moment and I kept focused on my breathing. “There’s something else going on here.”

  I squeezed my bag tight and looked up at him. “No, there’s not,” I said. I couldn’t tell him about the drugs in my purse any more than I could tell him about the reason I’d bought them. It was beyond weakness. It was the part of KATO that was more humiliating than I could stand. I exhaled. “I just need to see Dr. March when we get back.”

  This was deeper than a craving. Every part of me wanted the drug. If I weren’t on a plane surrounded by agents, I would be high already.

  I tried to turn away from him, but I couldn’t. He was giving me one of his hard, searching looks, like he was trying to x-ray my soul. Then after a moment he sat back, defeated. “You still don’t trust me.”

  “What?” I asked. “Yes, I do.” And I did. But I was just starting to win him over and this would change everything. “You need to trust me. I’m fine.”

  “This isn’t about me,” he said, edging closer.

  “Well, it’s not about me either,” I snapped.

  He got even more serious. “Every time you get shifty on me, you’re holding something back. What is this time?” he asked. “How worried do I need to be?”

  “I don’t need you to worry about me!” He was wearing me down. I had to get him to go away. I needed to be left alone. I leaned in close to him and when I spoke it was in a hiss so sharp and quiet, only he could hear it. “Stop pretending to care. You can’t help me any more than you could help Eliza.” He looked as if he’d been slapped, but I kept going. “I’ve been around a lot of heartless agents, and I’m not fooled. You’re just as bad as any I’ve come across.” I kept my glare even and intense. “So, back off.”

  He stared at me with an expression of horror and betrayal etched so deeply into his face it hurt to look at. “Fine,” he said, his voice barely audible. He turned and left me alone.

  I closed my eyes, hating myself, and leaned my head against the seat behind me. I held my purse close to my chest, wishing the drugs could numb every emotion inside me.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  TRAPPED BY THE TRUTH

  Travis didn’t talk to me the entire ride back to the base. He didn’t even look up when I changed in front of him, and I wanted out of that dress so desperately I didn’t care who was watching. He was off the plane before I could stand.

  I went right to Dr. March’s office. I forced myself to breathe easy, and tried not to think that I was holding a temporary solution in my hand.

  Someone must have told Dr. March when we were getting back, because she was waiting for me in the lobby. She gave me her usual once-over. “You look better than I was expecting,” she said.

  I exhaled heavily and shook my head. “I’m not.”

  Dr. March stiffened. I knew merely admitting that would tell her how bad off I was.

  I clutched my purse tightly. I’d left the dress on the plane, but there was no way I was leaving this behind.

  Dr. March led me to the back offices, shooting me some of the most concerned looks I had ever got from her, which made me even more anxious. When we got to one of the exam rooms, she held the door open for me and sat me down on one of the beds. “What’s going on?”

  I opened my mouth to tell her, but I couldn’t. Instead, I held my bag out to her. She looked at me hesitantly for a second, then tried to take it. I clutched the purse with a death grip, and Dr. March had to pull to get it out of my hands.

  I felt my arms start to shake the second she took it, and gripped the bed to keep her from seeing. She eyed me carefully over the top of the purse, then flicked the triangle clasp open. I looked at the ground so I didn’t have to see her reaction.

  “Where did you get this?” Her voice was rigid.

  “At the embassy.” I had to force the words through my dry and raspy throat. “There was a dealer.”

  She nodded somberly. “Did you take any?”

  I shook my head hard. “No. But I almost did. Travis needed me—so I didn’t.”

  She nodded again. “You know better than anyone that this isn’t really going to get it done for you. So, what made you this desperate?”

  I stared at her blankly for a moment. I should have had an answer prepared, but I didn’t. I blinked. “It was the mission.” I waited a beat. She didn’t move. “I knew how I’d feel after, and I didn’t want to feel that way.”

  She stayed frozen for another moment, then shook her head. “You’ve never lied to me before. You’ve kept things from me, you’ve downplayed, but you’ve never lied.”

  I rubbed my sweaty palms against the sheets. “I’m not lying.”

  She stayed quiet, thinking. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to give you an acupuncture treatment, then you’re going to get some rest. We can talk about this some more in the morning.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” I said, my frustration giving way to anger. “And I don’t need to stay here. I can go to my room.”

  “You’re not going anywhere until I can determine how at risk you are for a relapse.” Her tone was firm. “And I can’t do that until I know what pushed you into buying, and almost using, heroin.”

  I put my head in my hands, tugged at my hair. “It was only the mission.”

  “No, it wasn’t.” She didn’t believe even a small part of what I was saying. “Now, lie down. I’m going to get rid of this.” She waved the pouch.

  I sunk into the pillow when the door shut. She gave me my acupuncture treatment when she came back and, after that, a melatonin tablet to help me sleep. It was the only thing that made my mind turn off.

  • • •

  My eyes were heavy when I woke up. So heavy that I didn’t even think about where I was or what had happened the day before. When I could finally lift my lids and blink, I found Travis sitting in a chair against the wall. Then it all came screaming back to me. I closed my eyes again and rolled over, putting my back to him.

  “Oh no.” The chair scraped against the floor and I knew he’d slid closer. “You’re not getting away that easily.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut tighter. “Please. Leave me alone.”

  “I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me.” His voice was tinged with frustration and determination.

  I sighed and rolled over. I could only imagine what I looked like; makeup rings around my bloodshot eyes, hair that had been perfectly curled hanging loosely.

  He watched me, taking all of this in. “Jocelyn, what happened yesterday?”

  “Why would you even care after what I said?” I asked, hoping that if I reminded him, he’d go away.

  “Because now I know there was a lot more to it.” He tilted his head to the side. “Something happened on that mission that made you want to buy drugs. You put both of our lives at risk, and I want to know why.” My eyes locked on his. He was angry and he had every right to be, but there was some curiosity too. “We fought against each other for years and we shouldn’t have. So, I’m giving you a chance to explain.”

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I didn’t know how.

  “Who—who told you?” I pulled myself into a sitting position and tucked my knees to my chest, leaning with my back against the pillows.

  He arched his eyebrows. “Who do you think?”

  I shook my head. “She shouldn’t have said anything. She’s my doctor.”

 
“She’s worried about you,” he said. “She said you wouldn’t even tell her what caused this.” I looked down at the end of my bed, trying to count the rungs on the footboard to avoid facing him. He leaned in closer to stay in my range of vision. “I could kill you right now, but you owe me an explanation.”

  I blinked, but this time I didn’t look away. “I don’t—I don’t think I know how.”

  He sat back a little, and I could see his curiosity outweighing his anger. I wanted to tell him. After what I said to him—he was right, I did owe him. I opened my mouth, but the words never came. I shook my head and looked away again.

  “Come on, Jocelyn.” Travis let out a grunt of frustration, pushed himself out of the chair, and started pacing at the foot of my bed. “Talk to me!”

  “I’ve never talked about this with anyone before!” I said, matching his frustration. He pivoted to a stop in front the bed. I had his attention. I held his gaze, taking a moment to breathe. “Not March, not Simmonds, and not anyone at KATO who didn’t make me.”

  I curled into myself even more. He stretched out his arms, gripping each end of the footboard rail, preparing himself. “Just try. That’s all I’m asking.”

  I looked away for a minute, weighing my options. My stomach rolled and my muscles were tight enough to break a ship in half. But he was more than willing to camp out there until I finally cracked. On some level, that alone made it a little easier.

  “It was the dress,” I said, looking up at him. He seemed surprised that I was actually talking. “The only missions KATO put me in a dress for were more—personal than stealing or killing.” I couldn’t say what they made me do.

  I watched Travis closely, gauging his reaction. “They made you sleep with the mark?” His voice was rigid, and on the edge of control. “How old were you?” His fingers squeezed the rail so tightly I was afraid his knuckles might cut through the skin.

  I swallowed, remembering. “Fourteen the first time.”

  He exhaled heavily and looked at the ground. “How many times?”

  “Six.” I kept my voice even. “I was lucky.”

  His head snapped up. “Lucky?” he growled.

  I nodded. “I was better at retrieval and assassination. They only needed me for—that—if there was more to the mission than other agents could handle.”

  “You never said anything about that kind of assignment before,” he said. “You never even hinted.”

  I uncoiled slightly. “I’m not exactly proud of it.” Travis’s eyebrows shot up and I rolled my eyes. “I mean, I’m not proud of anything I did for them, but the other stuff—the guilt I can handle. At least in those situations I was in control of what happened to me.” He watched me steadily, and I scooted halfway down the bed, somehow feeling like I needed to be closer for him to understand. “Everything I did for KATO makes me sick. The things I stole for them, the people I killed—all of it. But nothing made me feel more like property—more weak and dirty—than having to trade myself for the sake of an assignment.”

  Travis pursed his lips and nodded. He was still angry, but it wasn’t at me anymore. “And that’s exactly what we made you do.”

  I shook my head. “But it wasn’t the same—or, it shouldn’t have been. I knew this mission wouldn’t end up the same way, I just didn’t expect to have the reaction that I did. It wasn’t until the dress.”

  He shook his head, disgusted. “If I had known you were one of ours—all those times we fought. I could have grabbed you. I could have brought you back.”

  He was so genuine that it tugged at my heart in a way I didn’t know was possible—in a way I couldn’t handle. So instead I smirked. “You would have had to beat me first.”

  It took him a moment, but eventually he smiled too. “I beat you the first time.”

  My smile widened. “And I shot you for that later.”

  Then he got serious again. “You could have killed me that time,” he said slowly, like he was trying to work something out. “When we were both after the Project Pegasus files. You had the shot.”

  I took a slow breath through my nose. “You weren’t a required target.”

  He looked me dead in the eyes. “I would have killed you if I had gotten the chance.”

  I swallowed. “I know.”

  He nodded, considering me. “You have a good heart.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I don’t—”

  “You do.” He was fierce and firm, and it clearly wasn’t up for debate. I clamped my jaw shut even though I didn’t completely believe him.

  Everything I’d done for KATO settled on the surface of my memories, which made it hard for him to be right. I twisted my hair off my neck, feeling suddenly overheated. Travis’s face scrunched as he studied me. Something had caught his eye. I let my hair fall and it seemed to bring him back to reality.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Your scar,” he said. “Did the same person who did that put you on those jobs?”

  I subconsciously brushed my hair over the scar, not used to having it exposed. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Joss, please.” I startled at the nickname. I hadn’t been called that since before I was kidnapped. “We’re talking about this. Just answer my questions so we don’t have to ever again.”

  At first I didn’t say anything, but after a moment I nodded. “It was the same person—more or less. It was my handler. A guy named Chin Ho. He was in charge of me from the time I was kidnapped. The missions came from higher up, but he had to sign off on all of them. He also trained me and drugged me and, if it was necessary, he would have killed me.” I paused. “If they catch me, he will be the one to kill me.”

  “That’s not going to happen.” He dismissed the thought so casually, it was as if there was absolutely no possibility. I ran my hand through my hair and slid away from him. He was wrong. And he had to know he was wrong. But I was too tired to argue.

  He straightened up and finally released the rail. “You should get some sleep.” Then he considered me for a moment. “Dr. March is going to need to know what you told me. Do you want to tell her or do you want me to?”

  I swallowed hard. I had never been someone to let other people do the hard job. But I had also never had the choice not to. And the truth was, I shuddered at the thought of telling anyone else that story. I bit my lip. “I don’t want to do it again.”

  He nodded, his eyes level and understanding. “I’ll take care of it.” He moved to the door.

  “Travis,” I said before he could leave. “You’re not—” He stopped short of the door, waiting patiently for me to find the right words. “You’re not heartless. I didn’t mean—I shouldn’t have—”

  “It’s okay,” he said, mercifully cutting me off. “I get it. But thank you.” I nodded and he smiled. “Get some sleep.”

  I fell almost instantly into the soundest sleep I had ever had.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  SCIENCE

  Dr. March cleared me the next day. We talked about the mission a little bit, but she didn’t push, which I was grateful for.

  I went late to the training room my first day back. The agents-only gym time was over and I had the place to myself, which is why I was surprised when the door opened and Sam walked in.

  I stopped punching the bag and turned around. “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  He had his backpack on with the straps loosened so that it hung low. He sauntered over toward me, like he owned the room. “I got kicked out of combat training,” he said with a careless shrug.

  I shook my head, but I had to smile. Most of the morning classes were taught by the same agents who teach the afternoon classes. “Did you piss off Harper again?”

  “I might have.” He dropped his backpack and leaned against the wall. “I’m supposed to go find Agent Lee, but I’m going to be in pretty big trouble, so I’m not in
a rush.”

  I started hitting the punching bag again. “Like you would get in trouble with her.”

  He laughed. “Are you kidding me? I’m in trouble with her more than I am anyone in the building. I’m late to almost every class. Just because she doesn’t give me a hard time about it doesn’t mean I don’t end up in detention.”

  I stared at him, astonished. “Then why are you late every day?”

  “Because I have access to the agent-prep rooms, which I can only use when no one else is in there.” He flashed a proud smile. “So, it’s more than a fair trade-off.”

  “You’ve really got this place wired, don’t you?” I asked.

  He laughed. “Jocelyn, you have no idea.” He started digging through his backpack. “Anyway, I’m glad I found you. I did some investigating on your mom while you were away.”

  I couldn’t help the way my heart tensed. “What did you find?” I kept my voice calm and curious.

  He pulled a file folder out of his bag and handed it to me. “These are some of the projects she worked on.” Inside were pages and pages of weapons plans. My stomach roiled. From jewelry with built-in tranquilizers to nerve-gas grenades, my mom seemed to have been involved in it all.

  “I don’t know what her role was in these projects yet,” Sam said, snapping me out of my trance. “All I could come up with so far is that she was involved with them, but I’ll keep looking.”

  I nodded, trying to ignore the twisted feeling in my chest. “Thanks, Sam,” I said, tearing my eyes away from the pages. “Really.”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said, zipping up his backpack. “I should get going. Agent Lee isn’t going to be happy if she has to come looking for me.”

  “What exactly did you do to Agent Harper anyway?” I asked.

  “That’s the thing,” Sam said. “I don’t even know.”

  I arched an eyebrow at him. “Yeah, right.”

  He smiled. “Okay, fine. It might have had something to do with the punch I landed to his face when we were doing a hand-to-hand punching drill.” My stress faded away and I laughed. Sam shrugged again. “Harper was walking by and my hand just—slipped.”

 

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