Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I almost started laughing. He didn’t know my normal self. No one did.
As Jake was waiting for my answer, I couldn’t look away from the most recent image of Kian on the screen. His dark hair had been cut down, almost as a crew cut. He seemed even leaner and fitter than what he had been before going in. Everything about him emanated power. He looked strong. He was always athletic, but this was more. I saw it in his eyes. They could always see through me. I never noticed before it had happened, but every time he’d looked at me in the courtroom, it was the same thing. He knew me. Somehow, he could see inside of me. I felt it again, but there was an edge to him. He was like a feral animal that had been leashed.
As Jake’s dark eyes stared back at me, I felt him talking to me. I felt him saying to me that they didn’t know the only me that mattered—the broken me. They didn’t know the me that only he seemed to know.
“Yeah,” I forced out. “I’m fine. Just had a bad exam, that’s all.”
Kian’s face was everywhere so I went back into hiding. Erica invited me to get sushi with her and Wanker the next night, but I stayed home. If I didn’t go out, I couldn’t see his face plastered on magazines and newspapers. He was on my email site, so I used my phone to check emails. I wouldn’t have to see the ads or news then. It was dumb and maybe a little immature, but I still wanted to hide.
The media speculation about where I had gone would spark up again. It was only a matter of time. And my small sanctuary lasted until Sunday morning when that phone rang. It wasn’t my cell phone. It wasn’t the landline that Erica had insisted we get. It wasn’t her cell phone. There was only one other phone in the apartment, and only I knew who was on the other line.
I didn’t say anything when I accepted the call. I didn’t need to. The other person said, “Mel’s Diner. One hour.” They hung up, and the hope I’d had of remaining hidden was gone.
That phone had been given to me by a federal agent who was assigned to me. The case drew enough national attention the FBI were called in, and when everything was done, he helped me hide and start a new life.
When I got to the diner, he was in the back booth, reading a newspaper. Kian’s face was plastered on the front, staring at me as I made that trek past the few other diners. Our booth was set far apart from the others and as I slid into my side, he folded the newspaper down. Kian’s face was on the outside, staring up at me.
I sighed. I’d never get away from him.
“Long weekend?”
I shot him a look. “Not funny, Snark.”
He laughed, but there was no smile or grin on his face. His entire face remained stone-like.
I wasn’t joking when I called him Snark. That was his last name. He had introduced himself to me three years ago as Agent Snark. I’d asked one time if it was a nickname.
He’d looked at me, deadpan, and responded, “Why would I joke about my name?”
That was the last of that conversation, and he’d been Snark ever since.
He took off his reading glasses now and inspected my face, taking his time with his perusal. He finally said, “You look different.”
“You told me to look different.”
“You lost weight?”
“I gained twenty pounds.”
I was inspecting him, too, but he looked the same—graying brown hair and eyes that still looked dead. I knew they were blue, but the flat look he had in them outweighed any color they might’ve had. He just had dead eyes to me. His skin was wrinkled, showing signs of aging. He kept himself trim, like he had back then, but I saw the wedding ring was gone from his hand. I bit the inside of my lip. There was no way I could ask him what had happened, if he’d divorced or if he was a widow. Snark did not share information—ever.
He asked now, “You’re healthy?”
“I didn’t go to the gym before. I do now.”
“Good. That’s a new habit then.”
“I also drink coffee now.” I used to drink tea before.
“That’s good, too.” He asked, “Boyfriend?”
“How’s that your business?”
He didn’t answer me. I should’ve known he wouldn’t, so I reached for a napkin and started to shred it piece by piece, but he took it from me. He slid it to the side, and I remembered—new habits. That was an old one.
I shook my head. “No boyfriend.”
“Not even that Jake guy?”
“How did you…” He was FBI. “Have you been watching me the whole time?”