Obituaries Section
KING, Helen
January 1st, 1967 - October 17th, 1995
Helen King, 28, passed away in a tragic car crash last Saturday in Los Angeles. She also served as a pilot for the United States Air Force and will be remembered for her tireless service to our country. She is survived by one infant son. Anyone who knows more information about Helen's remaining relatives or is willing to adopt her son should please contact Los Angeles County Department of Children and Family Services.
The salt spray mist filled the air, so that even standing on the beach house porch was enough to taste the ocean on my tongue.
I brought my hand up to shade my eyes from the sun while watching other CO agents splash in the water beyond the sandy shoreline. Adrian caught the Frisbee thrown to him by Ben. Lucy jumped over the incoming waves with Emma. Gwen and Jamie were tanning next to the water. The seagulls made the occasional call or two above us, and the sun beat down over our faces to remind us all of how we were in paradise.
Then why couldn't I get the image of the mother and child I'd killed a week ago out of my head?
Adrian insisted I needed rest and time away from missions to recover. Renting the beach house was Lucy's idea. Lucy invited other agents from our year, but I was surprised Emma showed up. The air between us had been tense since I'd returned from the mission. Thankfully, Adrian hadn't told anyone about my break down, because I had no doubt Emma would have never let me hear the end of it. She settled for ignoring me whenever I entered the same room as her.
I folded my knees up to my chest. My toes curled in the warm sand below me. The sand on the Charmont Beach was clean and bright, free of pollution or tiny rocks. Pure, smooth sand, looking too flawless to be real. My bikini exposed the rest of my skin, causing my already tan skin to darken further. Yikes, should have gone back in to put on sun block. I sat up, deciding there was more time between heading to the house and finally talking to the person I'd been waiting for to arrive.
"Don't leave. I'm here; I'm here." The voice from my compact belonged to a body which slid next to mine, the side of his body rustling against the sand as he sat down. "What's next, kid?"
I felt a sense of comfort whenever I was in his presence. For once, I could talk to someone without lying or hiding a secret. "The last mission was successful. Another mission is tomorrow night - the Lowell's Independent Book Store in Milwaukee, Wisconsin." I paused, raising a brow at him.
“What?”
“Shouldn’t you be in disguise?”
He waved a hand dismissively. “No one recognizes me here.”
I nearly rolled my eyes at his arrogance. CIA agents.
"What else?"
I brushed away the flying hair around my face and touched my ponytail rubber band (complete with the GPS) as I did so. "And what?"
"What other info do you have?"
I frowned. "Wasn't what I said enough?"
He lifted his hands in the air in an expression of mock defeat. "More information would be helpful, I can’t deny it. I thought you said you didn't need anyone to take care of you."
"I don't. Look, it's been a week. What information do you want me to find?"
"Anything." Desperation tugged at his handsome features. He tried his best to mask the impatience in his warning, but failed. I caught onto it anyway. The meaning of his expression wasn’t lost on me. "Hack Adrian's computer. Do something so you can impress the CIA."
I pulled my knees tighter to my chest, as if the motion protected me against the outside world. The reliable source of comfort faded away. Even if I wasn't lying to Tristan, I was being used by him. My heart ached. There was no company to feel completely at ease with except my own.
"Is it me or you who they're supposed to be impressed by?"
Tristan straightened his back. "You, of course. This is your mission."
"Exactly. This is my mission. Let me do things my own way."
Tristan didn't respond. He tightened his fists and stared straight ahead. I followed the direction he was looking at. Surely he isn’t making eye contact with… I realized his physical reaction wasn't a reaction to my remark, but the face he saw in front of him.
"What way?"
The new voice entering the conversation didn't belong to anyone Tristan had ever met before, or so I thought. But Tristan was staring daggers at Adrian. His orbs flashed with deadly recognition. I almost thought he was going to take a pebble from the beach sand and shank him.
Adrian seemed unfazed by Tristan's expression. While Tristan appeared like he wanted nothing more than to wring Adrian’s neck, Adrian regarded Tristan with the glance of a stranger.
"Adrian, this is... Javier. Javier, this is Adrian." I cleared my throat, gesturing between the two. "I was just catching up with Javier; he's an old friend of mine.”
"I don't remember seeing you in school." Adrian stuck a hand out for Tristan to shake anyway, and Tristan grabbed it. The two shook their hands like normal strangers for a few seconds, but Tristan's look said their relationship was otherwise.
To my horror, Tristan draped his arm around my shoulder. "Jane's an old ex of mine.” His Italian accent suddenly became a million times more pronounced. “We met at a concert a few years ago." It was Adrian’s turn to glare at Tristan. The tension in the air was suddenly so thick I wanted to take a butter knife and scrape out of there.
"Well, so great to see you." I dipped my voice lower and inclined my head away in the opposite direction from where Adrian stood. "Let me just see you out of here until we see each other next time."
As soon as Tristan and I walked far enough away from Adrian, I punched Tristan's arm. "I'm not your ex! And why did you use an accent?”
"Relax, it was a cover story."
"Well, it's a terrible cover story because..." I gritted my teeth before I could finish the sentence. Time for more lies. "Because I'm pretending to flirt with Adrian.”
“You are?”
“He trusts me more now. I worked so hard to feign interest in him, and now you've ruined it. I was getting close to him."
Tristan’s look at Adrian could still kill. His hand rested over his pocket, where I assumed his gun was. I held his shoulders to both calm him and keep him away from Adrian. “He’s not safe, Jane.”
“Of course I know that; we’re all assassins here.” I bristled. Really, there was no need for the theatrics. “Every boy is a bad boy.” You know, if you defined ‘bad’ by a serial killer.
Tristan shook his head. "He's the man from Russia. He's the one."
"Russia? Who are you talking about?" My eyes widened. I dropped my hands from Tristan's shoulders like my palms burned at the touch. "Adrian? You’re saying Adrian's the one who..."
"Who killed my fiancé, my informant, and ruined my mission." Tristan started forward in Adrian's direction as his hand started to reach into his pocket to pull out the gun.
"Whoa, whoa there." I talked to him like I was calming a horse. I placed my hand around Tristan's, guiding it away from the gun and back to sanity. "Adrian's our ticket to more information about CO, remember? I'm in deep cover. He's more useful to me alive than dead."
"Get as much information out of him as you can. I’ll wait till we're done with this mission." Tristan narrowed his eyes at Adrian, still not looking at me. Revenge clouded his vision. "Then I'll kill him."
"All right, let's calm down right now." I wasn't feeling calm, though, if the throbbing in my head was anything to go by. "If he was the guy who murdered your fiancé and informant, Adrian would have recognized you too."
"No, he wouldn't have. I was wearing a ski mask at the time."
"You were..." Seriously? "Who wears a ski mask anymore?"
Tristan scowled. "Well it worked, didn't it? Adrian doesn't know it's me."
There were still too many questions buzzing around us, waiting to be answered. All the operatives went to school together. When had Adrian gone to Russia?
"Tristan, when did your mission go wrong?"
"May, 2012."
The same month he and I had started dating? I gulped. There was no way we'd covered a mission in Russia. Tristan could have the wrong guy. I mean, I’m sure there were other guys in the world identical to Adrian. Maybe it was some other beautiful tall dirty blond with golden skin and piercing blue eyes. You know, it was a generic look.
But then, he and I hadn't seen each other all the time—there had been school and SAT's and AP testing to worry about, and I'd hung out with my friends without him sometimes but... he'd never told me. You'd think you'd tell your best friend you went to Russia on a secret mission to expose and kill CIA agents!
Apparently not.
Tristan gripped my shoulder. He leaned in toward my ear. "Remember, hack his computer tonight. Send me photos. Send me anything you can get your hands on."
I nodded, unable to verbally reply. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I'd spill out more information than necessary, information which would fuel Tristan’s hatred of Adrian further.
After I walked Tristan back to his car in the parking lot and watched him leave, I felt another hand grab my shoulder and whirl me around.
"Who was he? When did you date someone else?"
I suppressed a groan. Of all the cover stories for Tristan to pick, he had to choose the messiest one for me to deal with.
"It's nothing."
He dropped his hand from my shoulder. His jaw was set, as if he was trying to restrain himself from saying something too harsh. "He touched you and you walked back with him to his car. I would not call what he did nothing."
“Literally, he means nothing to me. I haven’t seen him in years." The lies rolled off my tongue now. They became even easier to say than the truth. "What do you want me to do? Stop talking to him?"
Adrian's guarded silence served as his confirmation.
I rubbed my forehead. There was still an ache. I couldn't stop talking to Tristan. "I can't. He's a... friend of mine."
He furrowed his brows. "I stopped talking to Emma because you were jealous. But you won't stop talking to this ex of yours?"
"So you're jealous too?"
Adrian ruffled a hand in his hair. "I’m not jealous.” He paced back and forth in front of me. I bit my lip, amused at his reaction. "I just don’t like him touching you, that’s all.”
I laughed. "Trust me—Emma likes you, there's actual danger there. But Tristan definitely doesn't like me. There’s nothing to worry about."
"So you can do whatever you want, and I can't?"
"Don't you already do whatever you want?" I regretted the words the moment they slipped from my lips. No point in mentioning the Russia mission, no point in blowing my cover. I played off my slip-up, pretending we were still talking about our love lives instead of our murderous missions. "It was nothing, just one date." I searched his blue eyes for a flicker of response. "It was in May last year. Didn't see you around much during the month."
He coughed. So I'd drawn a response of out of him after all. He met my gaze without fear, but his guard was back up. He placed the mask of indifference on, the look he used during missions when he wanted to go undetected. "We started dating that month.”
"Oh, then I must have dated Javier before you." I made my tone as dismissive as his. I waved my hand, as if it didn't matter. "I remember you being gone a lot."
"I had tests to study for; you did too."
"Yeah. I didn't see you around as much as usual, though. Guess you had more tests to study for than I did, huh?”
He shifted his weight and glanced back at the beach, where the other agents swam in the water.
I took advantage of Adrian's displaced attention and strode over to him. My voice lowered. "I've seen the way other agents look at you. I have something to worry about too."
Adrian wrinkled his nose, irked. "I thought you already knew."
"Of course I know other girls like you."
"No.”
"Know what?"
He responded by wrapping his arms around me and looking at the water. "Do you remember the last time we were at the beach?"
My memory from the plane ride jumped back to the forefront of my mind. I stiffened. "So?"
"Do you remember what I told you?"
I picked at the unbuttoned oxford shirt he'd pulled over his otherwise bare chest. One hand pressed against the hard muscle, tanned to perfection by the California sun. I leaned my cheek against his chest, bringing myself close enough to hear Adrian's heartbeat. His heart beat fast, drumming in his ribcage as if in anticipation and... nervousness? The great Adrian King of CO was nervous?
"You're whipped." I glanced up to see his eyes sparkling in mirth at my accusation, and I beamed in response. The smile was pure instinct, my natural response to being pulled against him and feeling safe within his arms. "Right?”
"No," Adrian answered with a slow drawl. Goodness gracious, even if he ever was whipped, he'd never admit it out loud. "I'm not whipped." He puffed out his chest a bit, and I giggled.
"So much pride, Adrian King. So much pride."
"Anyway." He interlaced his fingers with mine. "I realized something then.”
"What?” Here we go again, some philosophical question he loves which is supposed to be an answer or a dictionary definition of the word control. The intellectual side of Adrian bubbled under the surface, ready to cross-analyze his remark to death.
"Because I need you, Jane Lu."
Wait, what?
"You don't need me." I emitted nervous laughter, trying to downplay his comment. "You're the next CEO, you said. You're going to lead the next generation of CO agents and you're better at artillery fire than I am and you can always beat me in a chess match.”
Adrian brought his forefinger up to cover my lips. "I need you," he echoed.
Emotions rushed up and down my spine in electric currents. I tingled every place he touched me, and even the beating of the California sun at noon couldn't make me hotter than he made me feel.
He needed me.
He needed me.
Adrian King, CO's next CEO, cold-blooded contract killing machine, murderer of dozens of innocent people without feeling any regret, the most ruthless and dangerous agent of CO who viewed assassinating children with the same cool disinterest janitors viewed mopping the floor, said he needed me.
He brought my hand up and kissed it. Honestly, if I wasn't wearing a tiny tie-dye bikini and he wasn't wearing fire engine red surfer board shorts, I would have felt like I had been transported back to some Jane Austen movie in Regency Era England. The words coming out of Adrian's mouth were all surrounded by an air of truthfulness, and I knew he meant every word. "You're it, Jane. There's never going to be anyone else for me."
"You're the one for me too." I didn't think about the words leaving my lips. I forgot CO, murder, and espionage. I let go of the fact I was in deep cover. I was Jane Lu, best friend and girlfriend of Adrian King, and we were two California teens who were crazy about each other. We were like any other couple able to experience first love. In the moment, we were as normal as anyone else. "Adrian, I love you."
He didn't say it back, but I didn’t expect him to. He answered by running his fingers feather-light down my forearms and kissing me hard enough to bruise. The kiss almost felt like an attack; it felt like a claiming and a marking and a bonding all at once. When he finally rested his head in the crook of my shoulder and neck, I hooked one arm around his neck to bring myself closer to him. My other hand rested on the back of his head as his soft dirty blond hair pressed onto my palm. My fingers ran through the hairs at the back of his head, and he groaned.
It was insane how strong we were apart from one another and how vulnerable we were together. A thought flashed through my mind: we make each other weak.
"I need you to know now—whatever happens in the future, I love you." I murmured the words into his ear, my voice barely above a whisper. Visions of a future without him flashed before my eyes. The feel of him against me was hypnotizing, and I clung to his hair tighter in order to shoo away the daunting thoughts of what lay before us. "Whatever I do, whatever you think I've done – I love you."
****
The days at the beach house passed by like a dream. I woke up in the morning in the same bed as Adrian, our limbs entangled and the breeze blowing through the curtains. Then we'd go downstairs to join the rest of the group and assemble some mass breakfast of pancakes and eggs and oatmeal and even the packages of Oreos and the boxes of donuts we weren't allowed to eat while at CO. I was surprised CO allowed us to stay an entire week, but the summer vacation season was usually the slowest for murders. CO could spare us.
The afternoons were filled with him as well. Both Adrian and I snuck away from the rest of the group to find some beach cove where we made out, or to swim far out into the water to surf. But the evenings were the best. It was the last evening, the night before we headed back to CO and away from Paradise, when we built a bonfire and Emma finally spoke to me again.
Adrian was deep in discussion with Tristan about the best way to choke someone, whether with an over arm lunge or an under arm lunge. I heard bits and pieces of it from my spot next to the fire. He'd wrapped a blanket around me, and I pulled it closer around my body against the chill evening air.
"Hey." Emma's voice sounded as casual as if we'd never stopped talking. Her wet hair said she'd just come back from swimming with Gwen, and her red bikini was all she wore. She didn't seem to be cold, though. Not even her gaze was cold anymore. Hesitant, maybe, but no longer mean-spirited like weeks earlier.
"Emma." I kept my tone off-hand. Why was she talking to me all of a sudden?
"Seems like you and Adrian have been getting along lately."
I tried to keep my voice level. "Glad you noticed."
"Look, I'm not going to pretend anymore. Adrian's wrong for you."
I coughed. Somehow, I wasn't surprised by the turn of conversation. "You're entitled to your own opinion."
"Jane, you need someone who isn't involved in so much danger. Someone who isn't trying to put you in more danger than you deserve.” Emma's eyes locked with mine. I noted with surprise how there was nothing sinister in her expression. Her honest eyes and plaintive voice meant what she was saying. "Adrian is involved with so much more than you know. You could get hurt. He's hiding things from you."
Weren't we all? My train of thought jumped from my espionage to his secret Russia assignment to me hiding Tristan's identity. Surely Emma was referring to one of Adrian's secret missions he wasn't telling me about. At least for now.
"Emma, we're all involved with secrets at CO."
"No. You don't get it." Emma shook her head at me like I was being stupid. "Adrian is lying to you."
My heart stopped, then started again. I didn't know whether to believe her or not. She obviously wanted him to be with her instead of me. She was trying to break us up, I decided. I gazed back to the fire. The embers were dying. I scanned the shadowed ground next to the fire, searching for a stick to stoke the blaze with.
"Why would you think so?" I finally found the stick I needed and poked the flames, watching them roar to life as my apprehension rose as well. "Even if you think Adrian is lying to me, what makes you say that?"
"I don't think. I know. He doesn't want you to find out what he's been planning behind your back." Emma's warning morphed into a plea. "He's going to hurt you. I know he is. He's going to keep deceiving you and using you until it's too late for you to leave him.”
I glared at her. "I know you like him, Emma. I know you'd rather him break up with me, but I'm sorry. Adrian and I are stronger than you think. You can't convince me to leave him." I stood up, turning to leave. I'd had enough of Emma's attempts to deceive me about my boyfriend.
"Jane, wait." Emma stood up as well and walked over to face me. She sighed. "Yes, I like Adrian. I’ve never denied it. But I'm trying to warn you. You don't know him as well as you think you do. You won't like his plans for you."
My blood ran cold. "Plans for me?" I mouthed, looking down at the ground in confusion. There was something about Emma's tone which scared me—it wasn't dishonest. She was telling the truth as she knew it; she was completely convinced what she was saying to me was nothing but the reality of my situation.
"Emma, what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to be careful." Her mouth drew into a grave line of solemnity. "I want you to stay away from him. Not for me, but for your own sake."
"Why is him dating you better than him dating me? If I'm in danger right now, then you will be too."
Emma shook her head again, like I would never fully understand what she was trying to convey. Well, I would, if she didn't stop speaking in so many riddles. It was like she was speaking a different language, and I was supposed to interpret the vague hand gestures which went along with them. "I'm not the one he’s planning for. The plans are for you, Jane. You are the reason Covert Operatives won’t be the same.”
Before I could respond, Emma walked away from me. She brushed past my shoulder and back toward the beach, as if she'd said all she needed. My fists curled in frustration. I still had no idea what she was trying to warn me about. I already knew I needed to be careful around Adrian. My throat constricted as her words replayed in my head. How could I even believe what Emma was saying? She'd ignored me since I returned.
I trudged back to the beach house, mulling over what happened. Was he lying to me when he said he needed me? I thought I was using him; was it the other way around?
I groaned. No more questions; I needed answers. Time for the hack.
Adrian's laptop lay on the desk next to our bed, right where he'd left it last night. The screen whirred to life as I swiped the mouse. The password bar blinked at me, waiting for a response before granting further access.
I flexed my interlaced hands outward. This wouldn't be the normal hacking into a CO computer. All CO agents were taught the same hacking tricks, and there was no doubt in my mind Adrian had anticipated those methods and planned accordingly. Time to get creative.
I restarted the computer and kept pressing the F8 key until the screen presented a list of options to boot the computer with. I scrolled past "Safe Mode" and "Safe Mode with Networking" and instead typed in a specialized code I'd developed on my own. A new option appeared on the screen: "PRIVATE MODE.” I clicked it. Once I spotted the familiar “Start” screen and made it past the password, I clicked on the "Start" menu and selected "Control Panel."
I typed in another code I'd developed back at prep school. So computer hacking was a hobby of mine, big deal. Adrian had always been good at it too, but I hadn't taught him this particular hack. An option appeared saying "ALL ACCESS MODE" and I clicked it. There was another whir from the computer as the command was processed, and then the whirring stopped.
All passwords down, all history of my time on the laptop would be erased, nothing would be modified... I was in.
Under "All Access Mode,” endless files which hadn't appeared before popped up on the desktop. I cringed when I saw the desktop photo. It was a picture of Adrian and me at Disneyland, the day when Lucy brought her super high-powered camera and we had endless photo shoots around the park. In the picture, Adrian lifted me up and spun me around, and my head was thrown back in a laugh. Cinderella's castle at night formed our backdrop, with fireworks going off behind the castle. After I first saw the picture, I had told him it was my favorite photo of us.
Surely a guy who used his girlfriend's favorite photo as his desktop background wouldn't use her to fulfill some sinister plot. But I still needed to find something to tell Tristan and the CIA.
There was a folder labeled "PRE-TRAINING." I clicked on it, and more folders appeared. One of them said "PHOTOS." In the folder, there were all photos of adults, some young and some middle-aged. All different ethnicities, ages, and genders. There was no common pattern or defining characteristic which linked all the profiles. I clicked through the photos, wondering if it was even worthy of note to tell the CIA. What was the link between these people? They all seemed like random faces to me. Maybe Adrian just kept the photos as potential disguises for agents.
Wait.
I stopped clicking forward, then clicked a photo back. On the screen was the photo Marge had shown me of Lauren Lu, the woman she said was my mother. It had to be her - the face was the same, the hair was the same. The only thing missing was the label of who she was. I swallowed hard. There was no way she could be a random face to him. Why did Adrian have a photo of my mother? Did he know I was even related to her?
I clicked back to the main folder of "PRE-TRAINING," searching for more answers. There was a folder aptly called "EVIDENCE." I selected it and watched the new photos appear on the screen.
Scans of newspaper clippings filled the folder. But these weren’t just any newspaper clippings. All the excerpts belonged to obituaries. The dates of death varied. Most of the names were random, until I saw one named "Helen King." Was it Adrian's mom? King wasn't a rare last name, it could have been someone with no relation to him.
There was no father listed in the obituary. It was as if Helen was just a person who'd appeared and disappeared into the world, leaving behind a son and no next of kin. I licked my lips, almost afraid of the certainty I was approaching.
This had to be Adrian's mother. I wasn’t questioning why he had her obituary; I would have searched for my parents too if I hadn't been convinced they were already dead when I entered the foster care system.
It seemed Adrian had been less certain than I was.
I clicked through more articles. The foreign names passed by me with all tragic avenues of death. The methods ranged from suicides to bombings to street fights. Whitaker, Hally, Morehouse, Lu...
Lu.
My eyes fixed on the screen. Staring in front of me were the obituaries for my parents. I held my breath as I read the details. The names were the same as Marge had told me. So the CIA told me the truth. All the puzzle pieces fit together, creating a nightmare instead of a masterpiece. There was nothing to dispute anymore. CO had ordered the death of my parents.
My heart sank. Then why didn’t Adrian tell me? Why did he keep obituaries in the first place? Emma's words floated back to the front of my mind..."He's hiding things from you."
There was a slight creak in the floorboards behind me. My eyes remained glued to the screen, still studying the obituary of my parents even as my hearing registered the footsteps approaching. A soft thump accompanied the creaking, the thump of an arm being laid against the doorframe.
Panic seized my heart and clutched at my sense of pure fear, raking it upward with bony fingernails. The air filled with the scent of a musky and fresh cologne, and the voice of the person standing in the doorway sounded almost hollow.
"What do you think you're doing, Janey?"
"I wanted to look up information about an upcoming concert. You know I forgot to bring my laptop, and my cell phone service for wireless internet is terrible here. I saw you talking to Tristan, so I decided to hack it myself." I shrugged. My hand gripped the light blue wooden chair I sat in, as if the harder I gripped the more Adrian would believe me. "But then I saw your folder and I got curious." I pointed to the screen. "Adrian, you need to explain this to me.”
Adrian pushed himself off the doorway. He stepped with a slow gait across the wooden floorboards, not to walk toward a certain direction but from a habit of pacing. "I don't have to explain anything." He raised his voice. "You can't hack through my computer. My hard drive has confidential information."
“Confidentiality I’ve cracked.” Adrian wasn't angry yet, and I couldn't help but press further. If I'd at least gotten this far, I could risk his wrath some more. "These are my parents. I need to know why they're on your computer. Who are the rest of these people? Why are you keeping a record of them?" My curious tone evolved into hysteria. "I need answers, not more secrets from you!"
"It's all for my training as CEO. I'm sent on special missions without a partner. They’re assigned to me by the CEO. Believe me.”
Believe him? I didn’t know what to believe.
My voice trembled. "Don't you dare lie! I know you've been keeping secrets from me.”
"I've never lied to you. Stop being so difficult, Jane." Adrian stopped pacing. The corners of his mouth crinkled with consternation. "I'm trying to protect you."
"Protect me?" I wanted to laugh. I stood up from my chair and gestured to the laptop. "This is how you think you're protecting me? By keeping photos of my dead parents and obituaries of them and not telling me why you have them? You think you're protecting me if you keep deceiving me?"
"You have no idea what I've been through!" Adrian pointed an accusing finger at me. "I tell you and then what? It's not going to help anyone."
"I deserve to know! I already know you've been keeping secrets from me. Don't think because you don't tell me things, I don't suspect there's something to be told."
"You know nothing," he snarled. "I'm keeping you safe, okay? Forget those pictures you saw."
He tried to walk behind me and reached forward to shut the laptop. No way was I letting him off that easy. I stepped in front of him and placed my palms on his chest.
"I thought my parents were dead before I entered foster care. But they weren't and you knew? Why didn't you tell me? And you have their pictures, too! What are you doing behind my back?"
"I promise…”
“I don’t need your promises. I need the truth.”
“The truth won’t help you, Janey.”
"And your mother is in the obituaries! Are these photos all dead parents of CO agents?"
"Stop getting involved in what doesn't concern you,” he commanded. “There's nothing you can do about this. Just pretend you never saw those photos.”
"I'm sick of pretending all the time. If you don't tell me right now, Adrian King..."
"Then what?" He sneered at me, his fists clenched. I laughed when I saw his fists and pointed to them.
"Then I guess you're going to hit me?" I turned my cheek to him, the skin exposed. "Go ahead. Try it. Hit me, then! At least I can see it happening in front of me and I know what's going on. I don't have to worry about the secrets you keep anymore."
His face crumpled. His fingers unclenched, and vulnerability entered his eyes. "Jane." The softness of his tone reminded me of silk, smoothing over a surface to try to make things better. "I swear I'm trying to keep you safe."
The anger in the air evaporated as I flopped down onto the bed. I stared straight ahead, avoiding Adrian’s eyes. "Deception doesn’t make my life less dangerous. Deception keeps me in the dark."
"If I could tell you, I swear I would."
"But you can't, because doing so would somehow compromise me?" I laughed, the sound more mocking than intended. "I thought my life was already complicated, and the more time I spend with you and love you, the more complicated my life seems to become.” A sudden urge came over me to lie in the bed with Adrian and forget about all the secrets we kept from each other. The image flashed in my mind with bitterness. It was too impossibly ordinary to ever be reality for us. "I want to be one of those normal couples."
"The boring ones." But Adrian's voice wasn't condescending; it was echoing the memory of our night on the dock.
"Yeah, the boring ones. The couples who get married and have mundane jobs and kids and you know, don't kill people or keep secrets from each other. You say it's boring.” My throat tightened. "To me, it sounds great. It sounds peaceful."
"I'm going to give you the life you want."
I suppressed the urge to cover myself in the blanket, hiding away from the vagueness of Adrian's words. My fists clenched the bedspread. "How? You're still refusing to tell me what's going on. How can I trust you, if you don't trust me with the truth?"
"Because it would hurt you."
"The truth? Or you?"
Adrian sat next to me. His hand covered mine and, as frustrated as I was, I let him take it. "I'm doing all this so you don't get hurt. I'm doing all this to give you the future you want."
"What is all this? What are you doing that’s so dangerous?"
He placed his hand beneath mine, and our palms pressed together. His touch felt feather light. "Marriage, jobs, kids. I'll give you everything."
"With CO?"
He nodded. There was so much assurance in his eyes, even I believed him for a moment. "I'm working to make everything possible for you, for me, for any other CO agent who wants peace. You changed my mind. When you left..." Adrian swallowed, then tried to speak again. "When you left, I kept thinking about how I could provide you with what you wanted, anything to stop you from leaving CO." His hand squeezed mine. "Now I know how."
Longing tugged at my heart. My body responded to his touch, the nerves in my fingers tingling under his attention. With even the slightest brush of skin, my senses went into overdrive. "Can't you tell me?"
"Not now. I'll tell you when I can." He leaned my body back against the bed. The weight of his body covered mine, sending shockwaves of sensation through my legs and chest and arms.
He kissed me, his hand cupping my cheek. My traitorous flesh leaned into the kiss, all too eager to respond to his ministrations. He groaned, his lower arm brushing against the soft skin of my breasts beneath my V-neck shirt. I arched my body against his as more heat flushed through me.
He pulled away, his voice raw. "You have to trust me, Janey. I can't do this without you. Do you trust me?"
I drifted my fingers through his hair, and he made a sound of appreciation. It was like we'd memorized each other's bodies and knew what the other person liked most. We knew just what to do, just what to say.
"I do trust you, Adrian."
I didn't. Not at all. But I couldn't deny my distrust any more than I could hide the happiness I felt in his arms.