Pierce
Thea has been quiet.
Not silent.
She still speaks, but she’s not her usual bubbly self. She’s worried, and there’s nothing I can say to fix it. How can I? I didn’t even know her last week.
We’ve been driving north for almost six hours.
My body is stiff from the seat, my eyes tired from constantly flitting from Thea to the rearview mirror, then to the road.
No one is following us, but that’s what I thought previously.
The last intruder knew Thea… something about her, anyway.
Which means we can expect someone to be waiting at or near her dad’s house.
I haven’t told Thea this, of course. No reason to worry her more. She’s smart; she’s no doubt figured that out herself.
“We’re almost there,” she says, chewing on her lip and reaching for a bracelet that’s not there.
Before I can change my mind, yet again, I pull out the small bag that has been burning a hole in my pocket since breakfast and nearly thrust it at her. “Here.”
Thea retrieves the bag from the ground and gives me an odd look. “What is it?”
Why is she making this more difficult than it needs to be? “Just open it.”
“Okay…” she trails off as she opens the bag and pulls it out. Then she laughs. And I want to die of embarrassment. “You got me a bracelet!”
“It’s just a placeholder.” I grumble. The brown woven thing with a plastic pancake charm smack dab in the middle didn’t cost much. I have no idea what possessed me to get her something as we left the pancake house, but she was so sad and I hate seeing her reach for nothing.
“Was it legally… procured?”
I shoot her a look. “Of course.”
“Just checking.” She smirks. “I love it.”
“It’s ridiculous.” I feel ridiculous.
“It’s perfect.” She slips it onto her wrist, cinching it tight. “Thank you.”
The air between us brims with words unsaid. With feelings and meanings I don’t dare name. I’m about to see where she grew up, her father, and her aunt. Things are… too intimate.
“We need gas,” I say, quickly pulling off the road at a pump.
Thea nearly flies over the console at my abrupt change of direction. I need a minute to check on some things and to take a breath.
I hop out and hook up the pump while Thea watches me curiously from inside. I turn my back to the car and look at my phone. I sent Noah a photo of the man from the hotel room, but he hasn’t gotten back to me yet. The man’s burner was just that. Nothing on it.
Sitting in my inbox is a message from a different email address.
Clive Abernathy.
My grandfather.
I open the message. It’s a screenshot of an article, the same one Noah sent me, with a photo of Thea and me exiting the hotel after finding the body.
The body paragraph is short and to the point.
This is you. Call me ASAP. We need to talk.
I slam my hand on the roof of the car. I was hoping this wouldn’t follow us home, but now he knows. Who else knows? We need to talk? Will he hear me out or turn me in?
I check the pump, but it’s still going, so I flip to my messages with Noah, rereading the last one.
Noah: The perp won’t budge. Insists you have something he needs. Watch your back, man.
A common theme.
The pump clicks off, and I take out the gas gun and replace it. I slide into the driver’s seat.
“Is there any news?” Thea asks.
I raise a brow.
“I know you were checking your phone and didn’t want me to see.”
“No news.”
She lets out a breath and plays with her Styrofoam cup in the cupholder. It used to hold thirty-two ounces of sugar. Now it only holds air, and she’s been sad about it for a while. “Will I be safe after you’re gone?”
My original plan had been to ditch her and fix all the problems myself. Now that the enemy knows she’s with me, she won’t be safe until after I’ve handed over the drive.
“I won’t leave until you’re safe,” I say, keeping my eyes on the road. But I will leave. I have to.
“Thanks,” she whispers, soft and timid. I don’t like it.
I duck my chin, then turn on the car, getting back on the road. “Direct me to your father’s house. Not the front entrance—we’ll need to park a couple of streets away and sneak in the back or a window if necessary.”
“That is not a good idea. My Aunt Megan gets spooked really easily. She thinks everyone is out to get her.”
Everyone is out to get her niece, so it won’t be too far off.
“It’s the only way. I don’t want to lead anyone to your family. Even if I park three streets over, they might have already located us. I want to take every precaution I can.” I look at her so she knows I’m serious.
She swallows. “We can park behind Mrs. Hinton’s.”
***
“I’d feel a lot cooler sneaking around with a spy if this wasn’t my own backyard,” Thea whispers as we tiptoe through the small, wooded area in the middle of the suburb.
“I’m not a spy.”
“You keep saying that, but people keep shooting at us.”
“Do you think that’s the only thing spies do?”
Enough light filters through the trees in this section that I see her scrunch her nose. “I mean… kind of.”
I monitor our surroundings as we trek, searching the darkness for any shred of danger. The only threat I find is the piles of dog poop littering the trail like landmines.
“This is it,” Thea says, pointing straight ahead. “I should probably prepare you.”
“A little too late for preparation,” I mutter, narrowly dodging a fresh pile of poop.
Thea ducks beneath a tree and opens a small gate. The back lawn is a huge expanse of sycamore trees and grass. The house itself is a modest two-story sitting on an acre of land. This yard would be a child’s dream. For a moment, I see little Thea chasing butterflies and picking dandelions.
“My dad tries his hardest, but he gets frustrated easily because of things he can’t remember. Asking about his job might set him off, so let me ease him into it.”
“Do you think I’m going to tie him up and torture him?” I ask, not even bothering to hide the offense in my tone.
“No…” she looks over her shoulder at me. “You’re not, right?” At my scowl, she raises her hands. “Hey, it’s a fair question. No one you’ve talked to has remained unbeaten and untied for long.”
“They were bad people.”
“I’m just saying, you don’t exactly exude warmth and kindness.” She shoves past an overgrown branch and continues to lead me along the edge of the fence toward the house. I don’t see any obvious concerns.
“I’m as warm and kind as it gets in my line of work.”
“I think you can be even better,” she says a touch too loud, and I shush her. “Let’s shoot for a level ten tonight.”
“Is the scale out of a hundred?”
“It’s obviously out of ten.” She picks up a garden gnome in the small, weed-filled garden and takes a key from the bottom, then puts the gnome back.
“You’ll need to move that,” I whisper.
“Can’t. It’s the only place my dad remembers.” She ducks below the curtained windows, and I try not to laugh. I love how seriously she’s taking this, and honestly, it’s about time.
We reach the back door—thankfully, there are no motion lights—and Thea sticks the key in the lock.
She turns it slowly, then eases the door open.
A woman screams, and a frying pan flies in our direction.
I yank Thea behind me, bracing myself to take the hit instead of her.
“It’s me, Aunt Megan,” Thea says, reaching around me to put a single hand through the door.
“Thea? What are you doing sneaking in like that?” Megan hisses.
She opens the door but stops short when she sees me.
“Who are you? Did you kidnap her? Is this a hostage situation?” She reaches for her phone, but Thea rushes forward before she can call the authorities. Thea actually undersold this woman.
I shut the door behind us, making sure to lock it.
“Stop,” Thea says, grabbing the phone. “I lost my passport and wallet in Mexico. Pierce helped me get home. This is Pierce, by the way.”
I raise a hesitant hand, like a white flag.
Megan fixes me with a cold stare. “He helped you? Or he used you to smuggle drugs here?” Her words carry a heavy dose of suspicion. “Did he make you swallow them in a balloon?” My lips part, but I have no idea what to say to that. I’m stunned into silence.
This must be the aunt who’s a writer. Seems she’s already concocted quite the story for me.
Thea places a hand on my arm. “Aunt Megan is naturally distrustful of all strangers, not just you, so don’t feel special.”
Never. “I understand your concern, ma’am.” As far-fetched as it is.
“Sorry we scared you, Megan. I thought it would be a funny joke.” Thea shoots me a nervous look. “Clearly, it wasn’t.”
We never talked about how to approach this subject with them. About the danger we are facing. I wouldn’t have put her family in any more jeopardy if I could help it, but we need to talk to Thea’s dad, and I hope that by being in a safe place it will trigger some of Thea’s memories.
Aunt Megan still looks like she wants to dive for the knife block. Instead, she picks up a cookie sheet, cradling it in front of her chest like a shield. “Your dad has been worried sick. He was convinced you’d call again.”
“I should have.” Thea tugs on her new bracelet. It’s my fault. I should have let her… should have insisted on it. I didn’t know how closely we were being followed. “It’s been such a wild trip I completely spaced it.”
Megan looks at Thea, then back to me, still holding the cookie sheet. “So you brought a friend home?”
I don’t need to be this woman’s family to interpret the raised brows. I’m threat number one in her book.
“Yes,” Thea says. “I wouldn’t have made it back without him. I promise he’s a big softy, even though he looks like The Rock.”
Megan jerks her head toward me, caution but also gratitude in her expression as she lowers the cookie sheet to the counter. “Thank you for bringing her home safely.”
I nod, sensing that’s all she wants from me.
“I’m going to go see Dad,” Thea says, turning from the room. I stay back, content to give her time alone with her dad, but she motions me forward, and I follow.
The man in the recliner in the living room is not what I pictured when Thea spoke to him on my phone a few days ago.
His tone was light and joyful, making it easy to forget he’d experienced a stroke and partial paralysis.
Seeing him now, frail and clearly in need of extra help, makes me in awe of Thea even more.
He’s wearing a white lab coat and thick glasses. His hair is neatly trimmed, and everything is just right for a man heading into the office, except for the fuzzy green slippers.
“Daddy.” Thea’s voice cracks, and she rushes forward, dropping to her knees beside her dad’s chair.
“Doll.” Her dad catches her in a hug, holding her with the ferocity of a worried father.
I should step out and give them a moment.
I simply can’t. My chest constricts, like my ribs are trying to squeeze the beat right out of my heart.
It’s been a long time since I’ve seen such a genuine expression of love.
As a kid, I avoided it, resentful of it.
Now something in me longs to know that even though I gave up on it, it still exists.
“I called you so many times,” her dad says with heavy breaths.
“I lost my phone, remember?”
“I forgot.” He squints, rubbing his temples. “I can’t remember anything these days.”
She squeezes him harder. “I forget things, too.”
Especially in the last week.
It doesn’t escape my notice that she chooses to save her family from more concern by not telling them what really happened.
“You’ll be happy to know I made a friend.” Thea stands and motions to me.
Her dad pushes with his feet to get the recliner down, but it only squeaks and bounces back. He shoves it again, and this time Thea helps, getting it all the way down and helping him out of the chair.
He stands, straightening his lab coat as he plods toward me, studying me like I’m a new scientific discovery. “Pierce, this is my dad, Darren Meyers. Dad, this is my… friend, Pierce.”
“A friend?” Darren shoots a worried look at Thea, even as I take his outstretched hand. “Is that what they call it these days?”
I flinch, my grip tightening out of instinct. I see Darren wince, and I immediately drop his hand as guilt spreads through my stomach. Did I hurt him?
“Dad!”
“You got quite the grip there, son,” Darren says, massaging his hand.
“I’m so sorry, sir. I—”
“No, I’m happy my daughter found someone strong,” Darren interrupts. “That Scott was more delicate than a butterfly.”
“Dad…” Thea warns.
“Me too, sir.” I grin, unable to help myself. Figures Thea would go for the wimpy kind.
She huffs out a breath, her face turning an adorable shade of red. “That’s not why Pierce is here. Someone stole my passport, and he agreed to help me get home because he has family close.”
Two hundred miles, but sure, we’ll go with close.
Darren tilts his head to the side, lips pursed. “How convenient.”
I feel like I’m under a microscope, warmth flooding my neck and perspiration at my hairline… My CIA trainers have nothing on him.
“We’re just friends,” I say, backing Thea up.
Darren looks between the two of us as if he’s seeing something more than we are telling him. Then he smiles a smile that looks very much like Thea’s when she’s got one of her bad ideas. “Sure you are.”
Thea opens her mouth to argue but must give up. “I think Aunt Megan said something about dinner being ready?”
Darren walks toward the kitchen. When he passes Thea he leans in to whisper, though it’s far from quiet. “Using distraction won’t work on me. I know you like him. I like him, too.” And then he continues to the kitchen, oblivious as his daughter buries her face in her hands.
I step up next to her, enjoying her mortification a little too much as I peel her hands from her rosy cheeks.
She refuses to look at me, until I tilt her chin up…
“I like your family, but I like that blush even more,” I whisper, my grin growing as her cheeks grow even darker. “And there it is again.” I drop her hands and step around her before I admit to more.