The Unpredictable Way of Falling

  What doubles my anxiety is that the younger guy’s dark eyes, black hair, and hard features look strangely familiar, but that could easily be because I’m so on edge.

  “Why are they all staring at us,” I whisper to El, gripping onto her arm.

  “Maybe it’s a small town thing,” she suggests as she hurriedly steers me down the candy aisle and toward the restrooms.

  Gaige follows at our heels, his gaze roving across the aisles. “I think we might have just walk in on an illegal prostitution dealing,” he mumbles under his breath. I start to whirl around, but he places a firm hand on my shoulder. “Don’t draw more attention to us. Lets just use the restroom and get the hell out of here.”

  “How do you know it’s an illegal prostitution dealing?” I whisper.

  A pained look crosses his face. “I’ve seen too many scenes like that.” He gives a discreet not at the men and girls.

  We plunge into unsettling silence as we quicken our pace. There’s only one bathroom so El and I wait outside while Gaige goes first since, according to him, “he’s about to piss his pants.” Before stepping inside, he gives us strict orders to run out the emergency exit door if the guys so much as step in our direction.

  “Man, these last few days have been crazy.” El casually peers around the corner at the restaurant area. “I feel sorry for those girls out there.”

  “So do I.” I stare at the bulletin board on the wall in front of me. It’s covered in missing person flyers, so many for such a small town. Are they all from people missing from this town? Did my father have anything to do with this? I feel sick. “Do you think those girls out there are here under their own free will?”

  “I don’t know.” El steps up beside me. “They could be.”

  “Maybe we should call the police just in case…” I trail off as one particular flyer draws my attention.

  “Wow, she looks so much like you,” El murmurs, noting the direction of my stare. “Well, she looks like you when you were about eight.” She taps one of the two photos on the flyer. “At least in the photo of when she was younger.”

  “She would’ve been the same age as I was when I met you,” I say absentmindedly, leaning forward as I read her name, “Willa Lynn Marriwell. She disappeared quite a few years ago. I think the photo of her of when she’s older is a computerized photo.”

  “She still sort of looks like you in the computerized photo, but not as much,” El notes. “You don’t recognize her, do you?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t recognize her name either.” I start to step away from the bulletin board, but then reach out and tear the flyer down. Then I fold it up and stuff it into my pocket.

  “What’re you going to do with that?” El asks, nervously glancing back at the restaurant.

  I shrug. “I don’t know yet.”

  I just know I can’t not do something.

  After the three of us have gone to the bathroom, we head out to the car. The only person left in the gas station is the cashier, who eyeballs us like we’re freakin’ demons about to steal her soul.

  “I wonder where those guys and those girls went,” El mumbles quietly as we step outside and hike toward the car, which is now parked in the gravel parking lot.

  Carter is checking something underneath the hood and Holden is working on changing the tire. Both of them have their shirts off and only a week ago, I would’ve been in lust heaven, but my thoughts are too distracted right now by darker stuff.

  “I don’t know.” My stomach churns. What if those men kidnapped those girls? What if their flyers end up on that bulletin board?

  “What’s wrong?” Carter asks as we approach the car, his worried gaze focused on me.

  I shrug. “There was just some weird stuff going on inside.”

  Holden wipes some sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “What sort of weird stuff?”

  “I’m pretty sure there was a prostitution dealing going on inside,” Gaige explains, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

  “Whose territory is this?” Holden asks, glancing at Carter and Gaige. “Do either of you know?”

  Carter lowers the hood. “I think it might be Zander’s, but I’m not one hundred percent positive.”

  “Who’s Zander?” El and I ask simultaneously.

  “A leader of another mafia,” Carter explains, picking up his shirt.

  “He’s not Winston’s rival, right?” Holden asks as he picks up a lug wrench from off the ground.

  Carter shakes his head and tugs his shirt back on. “Not that I’m aware of.”

  “Good. Then we shouldn’t have to worry about them recognizing us.” Holden crouches down in front of the tire.

  “What about those girls that were with the guys?” I ask. “We can’t just let them take them.”

  “They might not have took them,” Holden says. “There’s really no way to know for sure.”

  I’m about ready to start arguing with him when Carter says, “Maybe we should report the incident, though, just in case. Or maybe we should go check it out ourselves.”

  “I can make a call to the agency and have them send out an agent to check things out.” Holden rotates the lug wrench with a grunt. “The agency isn’t very much farther away, so someone can get here quickly. But I need to get you guys to the agency before the wrong person spots us.”

  Carter gives me a look, as if waiting to see if I think that’s good enough.

  I could hug him right now. “Okay,” I say to Holden. “Just as long as you promise someone will check it out.”

  Holden nods then stands up and hands Gaige the lug wrench. “Work on that while I go make a call.” He walks toward the back of the car, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

  When I notice the trunk is cracked, I glance at Carter. “Are those guys still unconscious?”

  Carter tensely massages the back of his neck. “Well, they weren’t, but Holden and I took care of it.”

  “You mean you knocked them out again?” I ask, stepping toward him.

  He nods, then lowers his hand and snags my hip, towing me toward him. “I’m sorry.”

  I stare up at him confusedly. “For what?”

  He shrugs. “For all of this… For the violence.”

  “Don’t apologize for that,” I say. “I know you’re just doing what you have to do.”

  “I know but…” He drags his teeth along his bottom lip. “But I hate that you’re seeing this side of me.”

  I roll my eyes. “What I’ve seen so far isn’t that bad.”

  Such heavy sorrow overflows from his eyes. “What you’ve seen so far is pretty mild.”

  “Oh.” The knots in my stomach tighten.

  “Does that scare you?” His throat muscles bob as he swallows. “Do I scare you?”

  I hesitate. On the one hand, I’ve spent the last handful of days being terrified, but I don’t think any of that fear was directed at Carter. Well, except for the fear that he never wanted me, that he could break my heart.

  I shake my head. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  “Even when you threatened to shoot me?”

  “That wasn’t because I was afraid. It was because I was pissed off and hurt.”

  “I’m sorry,” he says with a sigh. “I’m a terrible person.”

  “Don’t be sorry,” I say. “You’re here, which means you’re a good person.”

  “I don’t think I would’ve been here if it wasn’t for you, though.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  He threads his fingers through my hair and angles my head back so our gazes are welded. “I do know that. You’re such a good person. Always have been.”

  “And you’re better than you think.”

  “How do you know that for sure? I mean, up until a few weeks ago, you thought I was a fucking douchebag.” He stares off into empty space, looking haunted.

  I cup his cheek and force him to look at me. “I know because that fucking douchebag was only pretending.
And part of the reason he was pretending was to protect his sister from this ugly world.”

  “Yeah, maybe.” He doesn’t seem too convinced, though. But considering all the physical and verbal abuse he’s endured over the years, his low self-esteem isn’t that surprising.

  “You’re a good person.” I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him, wishing I could kiss him a lot more because his kisses are addicting.

  But far too soon we have to pull away as Gaige announces the tire is good to go.

  The five of us hop into the car and pull out into the road. As we’re driving away, I glance back at the gas station. The younger guy that was in the gas station is leaning against the ice freezer, smoking a cigarette, and watching us drive away. Again, I’m overwhelmed with a strange sense of familiarity. But again, I can’t figure out why.

  “Does that guy look familiar to any of you?” I ask, looking away from the guy.

  “What guy?” El asks, her brows knitting as she glances back at the gas station.

  “That guy…” When I glance out the window again, the guy is gone. “He was there a few seconds ago and he was staring at us. He had black hair and these really dark eyes.”

  “I think I saw him walk out of the gas station. He was eyeballing the car, but that happens sometimes because my car is—Well, was—badass.” Carter shifts gears, speeding up. “I think we better not stop again, just to be safe.”

  I face forward in the seat and try to convince myself that everything is going to be okay. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve seen that guy before a very, very long time ago.

  Fifteen

  Gaige

  Thick tension lingers between the five of us during the rest of the drive to the agency. I know Holden thinks I ratted out our location, but I didn’t. I may have considered doing so for a brief moment when my father first texted me, but when I learned of the agency, I made a choice. The right choice for once.

  What happened at the gas station didn’t do anything to alleviate the tension either. By the time Holden announces we’re getting close, everyone is getting cranky and restless.

  Holden instructs Carter to turn off the highway and drive out into a forest located in the middle of endless hills. Several miles later, we’re pulling up to a security gate. A security booth is beside it, along with a guard.

  “Roll down your window,” Holden instructs, leaning over the console as the guard strides up to the car.

  Carter does what Holden asks while Holden digs his wallet out of his pocket.

  “Identification,” the guard says, lowering his head to look into the cab.

  Holden hands him a card, which the guard scans, and then the gates in front of us open.

  “And we need a cleanup on the car and in the trunk ASAP,” Holden tells the guard.

  The guard nods and then walks up to a monitor mounted on the brick wall enclosing the area.

  “What’re they going to do to those men?” Ensley asks as the guard returns to his booth.

  Holden shrugs as he sits back down. “Interrogate them.”

  “But if they get free, won’t they tell Winston what happened?” Ensley asks, putting her hair into a messy bun.

  “They’ll be arrested after they’re interrogated,” Holden explains, tucking his card back into his wallet.

  I’m fairly sure he’s lying, and an uneasiness stirs inside me. What exactly are we walking into?

  Carter drives forward into an open space lined with cars and SUVs. Smack dab in the heavily gated area is a massive steel building with no windows and no visible door in sight.

  So fucking weird.

  After Carter parks, the five of us file out of the car and follow Holden around to the back of the building. Sill no doors come into view.

  “Tell me why we’re trusting him again?” El whispers to no one in particular.

  “I have no idea,” I mumble, my gaze skimming the metallic side of the building in search of the door.

  And the building looks an awful lot like some of the warehouses Winston owns. Maybe Holden is setting us up.

  I’m just about to pull out my gun and demand to know what’s going on when Gaige punches a few buttons on his phone. The building begins to flicker, as if it’s nothing more than an enormous digital sign, and then two side by side glass doors suddenly appear.

  “What the hell?” El mumbles in awe.

  “This place is extremely high-tech,” Holden explains as he strides for the door with the four of us trailing at his heels. “The doors are digital screens that can only be revealed and accessed with an agent’s phone and password.”

  “That’s so cool,” Ens says, holding Carter’s hand.

  “Wait until you see the inside.” Holden grins at her as the door glides open.

  As we step inside, the computer nerd inside me grins excitedly.

  The room before us is glowing with monitors and more technical gadgets than I’ve ever seen. Some of the stuff I haven’t even seen before. Men and woman dressed in suits are hurrying about, most of them carrying tablets and other strange electronic devices I’ve never seen before.

  What the hell is this place?

  “Welcome to your new home,” Holden jokes as he leads us across the room to a door in the far back corner. He lines his palm to a fingerprint scanner, the screen illuminates, and then the door glides open.

  An office is on the other side, the walls made entirely of monitors. A woman in her mid-thirties with short black hair is sitting behind a desk near the far back wall, sifting through a stack of papers.

  When we step in, she peers up then reclines back in the chair. “Are these them?” she asks Holden.

  Holden nods, approaching her desk. “Yep.”

  She eyes us over then rises to her feet, rounds the desk, and outstretches her hand. “I’m Lana. Welcome to Rebel Revenge Inc.”

  “Rebel Revenge?” El questions. “That’s the name of the facility?”

  “It’s a nickname,” Lana explains. “Sorry, but to protect our identity, only certified agents get to know the organization’s real name. You’ll also learn more about the organization once you’ve filled out some paperwork and answered some questions. We need to be able to trust you before divulging too much information or else we put ourselves at risk. You all either work for some very powerful criminals or are the children of one, which makes you great candidates for informants. However, it could jeopardize the investigation if one of you decides to double cross us. ”

  El pulls her hand away, her eyes slightly wide.

  Lana proceeds to shake all our hands. “It’s so nice to meet you all. I have a feeling, if this works out, you’ll be some of the most useful informants we’ve ever had.” She turns to Holden. “Take then to the guestrooms so they can clean up.”

  He nods and leads us out of the room, giving us some basic instructions. We’re all supposed to meet up again at six o’clock to have some dinner and discuss what the agency wants us to do for them. She also makes us hand over our weapons.

  I’m nervous to say the least, mostly because I know Holden doesn’t trust me. And since I’m in his territory now… Well, let’s just say I put up a bit of an argument before handing over my gun.

  But in the end, I do it, crossing my fingers that I’m not making a big mistake.

  That all this trouble will be worth it.

  That this choice will lead me to Willa.

  Sixteen

  Gaige

  After we’re taken the guestrooms, Holden hurries off somewhere without an explanation. They give us separate rooms too, which I think is done on purpose and makes me extremely uneasy. Still, I take a shower and change into some clothes I find in a closet. Clothes that are exactly my size.

  So fucking weird.

  By the time I’m all cleaned up, a couple of agents stop by to fingerprint me and have me fill out some short forms. Then they make me read through a fifteen-page document that gives me details on what the agency is and what is required of us. Most
of the documents seem like standard protocol for law enforcement training, except for a few random questions about drug allergies and if I’ve ever suffered from memory loss. I’m not even certain this place is part of law enforcement, though, or if it’s some sort of secret agency. Makes me question what’s going to happen to us if I decide I don’t want to help them.

  The agents also clarify that I won’t be an agent, but an informant, something Lana already made known, though. In the mafia world an informant is called something else. A rat. If my father or any of his friends find out what I’m up to, I’m dead.

  After I read through the papers, the agents take me into a room where El, Ens, and Carter are waiting along with Lana and three other suited men. Holden is nowhere to be seen.

  Ens and El catch my gaze as I enter the dimly lit room. They’re nervous. So am I.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, taking a seat beside El.

  “I was just about to explain that,” Lana says. In front of her are a stack of tablets and she hands one to each of us. “You can only access these with your fingerprints. This is how we give updates on cases and communicate with each other when we’re working in the field. Right now, they contain the details of what we want you to do. If you think you can’t handle it, you’re more than welcome to say so. If you choose not to work for the agency, you’ll have to complete an exit program, which will include an injection that will wipe the last twenty-four hours out of your mind clean. The same will happen if we suspect that you’re here under false pretenses.”

  “Wait… Huh?” My jaw drops. “A memory wiping injection?”

  El blinks at her. “That kind of stuff exists?”

  Ens and Carter look equally as stunned.

  “A lot of stuff exists that you don’t know about,” Lana answers, tapping a stylus against the table. “Although, I’m surprised you don’t know about the drug already, considering your connections.”

  “Are you saying we know someone who uses this stuff?” I ask, slumping back in the seat. That part doesn’t surprise me that much.