Toxic (The Zara Chronicles Book 3)

by Scarlett Haven

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Sunday, September 23

  Monday, September 24

  Tuesday, September 25

  Wednesday, September 26

  Thursday, September 27

  Friday, September 28

  Author's Note

  More Books by Scarlett

  Find Scarlett Online

  Toxic

  The Zara Chronicles #3

  Scarlett Haven

  Copyright © 2018 Scarlett Haven

  http://scarletthaven.net

  All rights reserved.

  Cover by Scarlett Haven

  Edited by Janet at Dragonfly Editing

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Sunday, September 23

  Kylo Ren.

  There are moments in our life that define who we are. Moments which mold us and shape us. Some of those moments are good. And others, well... they’re bad. But that doesn’t mean we don’t learn and grow from them. It doesn’t mean the bad moments don’t make us a better person. And I like to think that every single tragedy, every storm, helps people become who they were meant to be.

  I still don’t know what I did to deserve being at Spy School. Zach says me being here was meant to be, from the moment of my conception. And maybe he’s right. But whatever the reason, I’m so glad that I’m here.

  Yesterday, all the guys helped move my stuff from my dorm room into Zach’s house. They wouldn’t let me carry anything at all, saying I needed to rest since I have a concussion. I’ve tried telling them I feel better. My headache is dull now. But they insist, and I love them for it. It feels good to be so cared for by them.

  Zach is out. Actually, he’s almost always out. I have rarely seen the guy since I’ve moved in. He’s always busy and I think that’s how he likes it. The man can’t sit still for more than a couple of minutes before he gets antsy. Part of me wishes he would spend time with me. He’s my father. I want to get to know him. But the other part of me is glad that he’s gone all the time. Because, as much as I do want to know him, I’m also scared to know him.

  I wonder what my dad would think if he knew that I had moved in with my biological father. Would it hurt him? I think it would, which is exactly why I can’t let my family know.

  Since Zach is gone, two of the guys are at the house with me. We’re in the living room because Zach threatened the guys; saying that if they stepped a foot into my bedroom he would make them wish they had never been born. He also mentioned something about torture training, which scares me a little bit. Is that something I’m going to have to do?

  Dylan sits to my right and Tristan to my left. They’re both arguing over who is better—Batman or Superman. It’s literally the nerdiest thing ever, but I think it’s hot.

  “What do you think, Zara?” Dylan asks.

  “I think they’re both pretty good,” I say, not wanting to pick a side. If I told them what I really thought, one of them would be gloating, and then I’d have to put up with that all night.

  “You have to have a favorite,” Tristan says.

  “Wonder Woman,” I say. “She’s my favorite.”

  “She’s not an option in this debate,” he says.

  “Kylo Ren. He’s my favorite,” I say. “I find his character fascinating. But then again, I always go for the bad boy.”

  “He’s not even a superhero. Come on, this is serious,” Dylan says.

  I laugh. Because he’s calling a debate over Batman and Superman ‘serious.’ No wonder I fit in so well with these boys.

  “Okay,” I say. “Well... like I said, I prefer bad guys. So if you’re asking who I like better between the Joker and Lex Luthor... I’m going to have to go with Lex Luthor. Plus, if I’m being honest, Batman is a little too dark for my taste.”

  “Told you,” Tristan says, now gloating.

  I roll my eyes. “Honestly, Tristan, I figured you’d like Batman better. You know, all his cool gadgets.”

  “They’re just not realistic,” he says.

  “And an alien who can fly is?” Dylan asks.

  “I still say Kylo Ren is better than both of them,” I say.

  “Please,” Tristan says. “Superman could snap his neck before Kylo even saw him coming.”

  “Superman doesn’t kill,” I say. “Guess you should’ve chosen Batman.”

  Dylan starts laughing. “She’s got a point.”

  “Zara, you’re too clever for your own good,” Tristan says.

  “Don’t worry, I will teach you my wise ways,” I say.

  Dylan’s phone goes off and he frowns when he reads whatever is one the screen.

  “I have to go,” he says.

  “Everything okay?” I ask him.

  “Yeah,” he says. “Just school stuff. I’ll see you guys later.”

  Dylan gets up and leaves the house in a hurry and I wonder if everything really is okay. He looked worried. But then again, maybe I’m just anxious because of everything that has happened recently.

  The guys shelter me as much as they can, which bothers me. I plan on talking to Cam about it the next time we’re together. I know they mean well. They don’t want me to worry. But by keeping secrets, I actually worry more.

  “Why do you like Kylo Ren so much?” Tristan asks, continuing our conversation like Dylan didn’t just storm out of the house.

  “He’s hot,” I answer. “And yes, he’s bad, but only because of circumstances. And the love story between him and Rey—it’s epic. Even more than Leia and Anakin.”

  “You are so nerdy,” he says.

  “And you like that I’m nerdy,” I say, grinning at him.

  “I love it,” Tristan says. “But there isn’t anything about you that I don’t love. You’re absolutely stunning in every single way.”

  His smile is gone and his words... they touch my soul. He’s not joking around anymore.

  “Tristan, you shouldn’t say stuff like that.”

  “Why?” he asks.

  Because it gives me hope. It makes me think that there could be a chance between us. But I couldn’t. We couldn’t.

  “Someday you’re going to get a girlfriend,” I say. “And even a wife. And we’re still going to be on the same team.”

  “The guys and I have already decided, if a girl doesn’t like you or if she is jealous of you, we’re not going to date her,” he says.

  “Eventually you will fall in love with somebody and she will trump me,” I say.

  “You’re wrong,” he says, leaning closer to me. “Nobody will ever be able to measure up to you, Zara Summers.”

  Be still my heart.

  Seriously, why does he have to say these things to me?

  I hear a sound behind me and the front door swings open. Tristan jerks away from me, and I sit there, trying to breathe.

  “Hey, guys.”

  I hear Zach’s voice and turn around to see him walking in with a large plastic box.

  “Anything to report?” Zach asks Tristan.

  “Nothing, sir,” Tristan answers.

  “Where’s Dylan? I thought he was going to be here with you.”

  “He left about five minutes ago,” I answer, getting up from the couch. “What’s in the box?”

  “Paperwork,” he answers. “I’ve got profiles on every single Spy School agent that either went to school with me or has worked with me. I’ve got a lot more in the SUV. Tristan, wanna give me a hand?”

  “Sure,” Tristan says, walking out the front door. />
  “I can help, too,” I say to Zach.

  “Nah, they’re too heavy. You just relax,” he says.

  Of course he won’t let me help.

  “You know, a concussion only affects my head, not my muscles,” I say, following Zach out the front door. I’m not going to let this go easily.

  “Zara, please,” he says, grabbing another box. “Don’t make me fight you on this. Just rest for a few days, then I promise I’ll back off.”

  “Come on,” I say, following him inside. “It’s just a concussion.”

  He sets the box down hard on the floor and turns to me. Tristan is walking out the door to grab another box.

  “You are my only daughter. My only child,” he says. “I just got you in my life. I can’t lose you now.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I say.

  “You almost died,” he says.

  He’s right.

  I did almost die.

  But so did the rest of the guys.

  “But I’m okay. I’m alive,” I say. “And I can’t stop living because of what happened.”

  “I know that. I am just asking you to take it easy for a few days. For me,” he says.

  “Okay,” I say, letting it go.

  When I was a small, Jason and I used to fight like crazy. One time, after a huge fight, my dad sat me down and told me to pick my battles. He said that sometimes, it’s okay to fight for what you want. But if you fight every single time, it makes the really important stuff seem less important. After that, I let Jason win every single fight, except when it came to stuff that was important to me. And when I fought back, Jason would let me win, because he, too, knew that it was important to me. I don’t know why, but that has stuck with me for many years.

  This must be important to Zach, so I am going to let him win this time. If he continues to baby me, I will fight it. But for now, I can let him have this.

  Tristan and Zach carry the last box in. It’s just after nine at night, so Tristan has to head back to the dorms. I walk him outside to the truck he drove over. It’s a vehicle owned by the school that they let students use. All of them are 4WD with crazy snow tires on them. I’m guessing it’s going to snow a lot here this winter.

  “Be gentle with him,” Tristan says, once we reach his truck.

  “I will,” I say.

  He leans closer and puts his hand on the back of my head, tangling his fingers in my hair. He pulls me closer and gently kisses my forehead.

  I love how warm his lips are against my skin, and I love how I can still feel his lips even after they’re gone. I also love how my stomach is in knots and all I can think about doing is pulling him closer, this time to my lips. But I would never do that. I will wait for him to make the first move, because I’m too nervous to do it myself.

  “Good night,” he says, pulling away from me.

  His voice is low. Like maybe he’s just as affected from that kiss as I am.

  I step back and watch him get in the truck.

  “Go inside,” he says, before shutting the door. I know he won’t leave until I am safely inside the house. So I do as he says, knowing he needs to get back to school. We have classes tomorrow and he needs sleep.

  Once I’m at the door, I turn around one last time to look at him. Even though I can’t see him through the dark windows, I know he’s watching me. I wave at him one last time before walking inside.

  I shut the front door behind me and then lean against it for a second, allowing myself to relive the feeling of Tristan’s lips on my forehead.

  “Is that boy trying to get on my nerves?” Zach asks.

  “Who? Tristan?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he says.

  I grin. “Don’t worry, he’s a gentleman.”

  “Uh huh,” he says, looking up from his paper.

  “So what is a profile?” I ask. “You mean like a social media profile?”

  Zach puts down the paper, focusing his attention on me. “It’s a psychological profile. Everybody employed by Spy School gets one. It’s something that they use to catch serial killers, but it can also be used for a terrorist. Basically, if we figure out why somebody is after me, we can figure out the who.”

  “Oh,” I say. “I’ve seen a documentary on that before. They profile a killer to narrow down the suspects.”

  “Of course you have.”

  “What?” I ask. “I like getting into the brain of serial killers. It’s fascinating to me.”

  “You’re so much like me,” he says, turning back to his papers.

  He’s right. It’s crazy that even though I had never met him until a few days ago, we are a lot alike.

  “I’m going to bed,” I tell him. “I’m exhausted.”

  “Good night, Zara.”

  “Night.”

  Monday, September 24

  Stand out.

  On Monday morning I am eager to go back to school. I’ve never taken more than a few days off from my school work, and even then I only would because I was sick and my mom made me. I know I’m weird, but I like learning.

  Since I am staying with Zach, I don’t have to eat in the dining hall. Actually, he cooked breakfast for me. But I do head to school early so I can hang out with the guys before class. When I walk into the dining hall, all five of them are at the table already.

  “Hey,” I say, sitting down between Cam and Austin.

  “Zara, hey,” Cam says.

  “How was your first night in Zach’s house?” Stefan asks.

  “Good,” I answer. “I slept a lot better there than I do in my dorm room. And, I don’t have to put up with Taylor, so that’s a plus.”

  “Everybody is going to know he’s your dad now,” Tristan says. “Or at least they suspect it.”

  “This school loves gossip,” Austin says.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “I’m used to tabloids and paparazzi. I think I can handle high school kids.”

  “Everybody knows about your concussion, too,” Cam says.

  “What? How?” I ask, looking up from the table. That’s when I see that nearly everybody is watching me. And I don’t know why, but it pisses me off, regardless of what I just told the boys. It doesn’t matter where I am—California or Switzerland. I can’t get away from people watching me. “I’ve got to go.”

  I get up from the table, walking quickly out of the dining hall.

  All I have ever wanted in life was to be normal. But that was never an option. There were always paparazzi. Always somebody taking a picture. Or there were always people staring.

  When I came to Spy School, it was a relief that nobody knew me. And if they did know me, they didn’t care. It was the first time in my life that I felt like I could be free from my life in Malibu. But now, everybody has suddenly noticed me, and I hate it. I just want to be normal for once in my life.

  “Zara,” I hear Stefan from behind me. But I don’t stop walking. Not until I am outside the building. At least I can breathe out here.

  I lean against the side of the building, just trying to breathe.

  “Are you okay?” Stefan asks.

  I open my eyes and see that it’s just him.

  “Where are the others?” I ask.

  “We didn’t want to smother you,” he says. “They said I’m the best at talking to you when you’re upset.”

  It’s true. But it’s not just me. Stefan is good with people in general.

  “I’m sorry you got stuck dealing with me,” I say.

  “I’m not,” he says. “I’ll take any excuse I can to spend time with you, especially without the others.”

  I look at him. “Why without the others?”

  He shrugs. “The guys... they all have strong personalities. Sometimes it’s easy for me to get lost among them.”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “Never. You stand out to me.”

  Stefan doesn’t say anything to me, he just looks at me. Maybe he’s trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth or he’s trying to read my e
xpression. Whatever he sees, he must believe me, because he smiles widely.

  “We could ditch class,” he says. “You may as well milk your concussion for as long as possible.”

  I narrow my eyes at him. “You know math is my favorite class.”

  “Because you’re a weirdo.”

  “You’re friends with me, so what does that say about you?” I ask.

  “That I like weirdos,” he says, then pauses for a second, looking at me. “You know, what happened in Russia... it scared me.”

  “It scared me, too,” I say, knowing I will never forget the feeling of the plane shaking as it fell from the sky.

  “I knew you were important to me. I just didn’t realize how important you are until I almost lost you,” Stefan says. “I can’t imagine my life without you, Zara.”

  “It was just a concussion.”

  “It was more than that and you know it,” he says. “And now that I know somebody is after you... I don’t ever want to let you out of my sight.”

  “You’d get sick of me.”

  “Never,” he says. “Just promise me that you won’t go anywhere without me, or one of the guys, or Zach. I don’t trust anybody else with you. Not even people in this school.”

  “I promise,” I say, biting the side of my lip. “You know, I feel the same way about you. I can’t imagine life without you now. If something had happened to you...”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” he says, pulling me closer.

  Stefan wraps his arms around me, and I hug him back. I love how safe I feel in his arms. How safe I feel with him. My promise to stay with him or one of the guys will not be hard a hard one to keep.

  “We should get to class,” he says, letting go of me.

  I nod. “Okay.”

  Together, Stefan and I head to Mr. Brown’s class. He grabs my hand, which I’ve grown used to. I like holding hands with him... with all the guys.

  “After school, Zach will be waiting for you,” Stefan says.

  “Waiting for me?” I ask.

  “The guys and I signed up for a map class,” he says. “It’s a two hour long class—just two weeks. You won’t be the only person on our team who can read a map after this.”