Chapter 29
Elara
W e ended up sleeping for a good four hours before either of us woke up from our nap. It’s just past 4:30 and I am hungry. “Ryyydeeerr.” I whisper, poking his cheek. His eyes are still closed as he grunts at me. “I’m not awake. I’m sleeping.” He replies before mimicking a snoring sound.
I tap his nose a few times. I know I’m probably irritating him, but I can’t help it. I move so my mouth is right next to his ear and I whisper, “Ryder… I’m hungry.” He groans as he wraps his arms around me and rolls the both of us over. “Food later. Sleep now.” He mumbles, nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. His grip around me is unrelenting, so trying to get up is out of the question. Not sure I could even walk to begin with.
I take his arm from around my stomach and lift it up to my mouth, kind of gently biting. Ryder’s eyes peel open as he yanks his arm from my grasp. “Ow! What was that for?” He asks, rubbing his arm. “I told you I was hungry. It was only a love bite.” I say, puffing out my bottom lip and batting my eyes.
“Okay, okay. I’ll order some food. Just don’t bite me again.” He says, giving in and reaching for his phone. “I make no promises. You had no problem biting this morning.” I say deviously. “ Those were love bites; you just straight up tried to take a chunk out of my arm.” He argues jokingly, making me giggle. It’s fun messing with him.
He orders pizza and throws his phone towards the bottom of the bed. “There, I ordered food. Now we stay here ‘til it gets here.” He announces, wrapping around me again. “Works for me.” I say, grinning smugly.
It’s only been twenty minutes, but my stomach is growling louder, and I’m getting restless. “Ry, can you pass me the remote, please?” I ask. He rolls over and grabs the remote off the nightstand before handing it to me. Several of the buttons are in French, but I manage to find the essential buttons easily.
The TV clicks on and a news channel appears. The French newscaster speaks and I turn on subtitles. They are talking about the weather and local stories for a few minutes before the woman pauses, listening to her earpiece.
"I've just gotten word that our American affiliates have a message for us in Washington D.C." The camera cuts, switching to a news feed that shows a conference room filled with reporters and a black podium at the front. Just before the conference starts, someone knocks on the door. “Your pizza is here. No more biting me.” Ryder says, pointing at me playfully as he gets out of bed. “I didn’t even bite you that hard.” I counter.
He opens the door and I hear him mumble, “What the hell?” He comes back in with a small, white envelope. “No pizza. Just this; there’s no name or anything on it.” He says as he tears through the fold. He opens the letter and unfolds the paper. I lean over to read it with him; a single sentence is written:
'Better luck next time, Agent Cassidy.'
My eyes go wide and my breathing quickens as I read it over again. “He knows we made it out of the warehouse.” I say, slight panic in my voice. How did he figure out where we were? The sound of clicking cameras echo and I look at the TV to see Orson Hartwell walk up and adjust the mic so it's level with his mouth. I jump up and off the bed, getting closer to the TV. Hartwell clears his throat and straightens his tie.
"Good morning everyone. We recently conducted an investigation into the now confirmed suicide of Congressman Chanler over in London, and during our inspection, we came across unrelated information. It has been discovered that Elara Cassidy and Ryder Hale, two of our agents, have been involved in criminal foreign affairs and have committed murder." Our FBI ID pictures pop up on the screen as he continues.
My heart is pumping so fast I think it may tear through my chest. "They are considered armed and extremely dangerous. If you identify them, do not approach and call your local police. A reward of $10,000 will be given to anyone who supplies us with reliable evidence surrounding their whereabouts. They were last seen in northern England."
The sound of reporters shouting questions fills the speakers. I look at Ryder in terror, trying to figure out if I'm hearing this correctly. My mind is going a million different directions and processing nothing; coming up with coherent thoughts is not in the cards for me right now.