38

Dominic finds me the second I enter the hotel lobby. “What the hell happened to you today?” He looks me over, taking in the baggy borrowed sweatpants. “And where’s your uniform?”

“It’s a long story.” One that he, of all people, deserves to know. Especially after I snapped at him this morning. But the wound is still fresh, so I give him a condensed version. While I talk, we walk toward the ballroom where the recap-our-day session is supposed to take place.

“Wow, that’s…” Dominic trails off, appearing to be rendered speechless.

“Yeah, I know,” I say bitterly.

We round the corner and are soon in sight of some of our Holden classmates. Dominic speaks in a whisper. “Are you going to tell the FBI about the judge in South Carolina? Seems like it would be a subject of interest to them.”

I stop dead in the middle of the hallway, unable to move. “That is a great idea…”

Dominic turns to me, a look of skepticism on his face. “Why do I get the feeling we’re not talking about the same thing?”

“Definitely the same thing,” I say with a nod. “But maybe not free information. A bargaining piece. Those seem to work well with the FBI.”

“You want to work out another deal?” he says. “To help your dad?”

“It’s worth a shot, right?” For the first time since my dad ran from me this morning, I feel the tiniest glimmer of hope. “Now how do I get out of this recap session so I can get a hold of Sheldon ASAP?”

Bret Thomas, who has just appeared in the hall outside our temporary classroom, stalks right up to me. “We need to talk.”

“Sure,” I tell him. “How about tonight? I’ve got something I need to—”

“No,” he says firmly. “Now.”

With that, he grips my arms and gently leads me farther down the hall. Dominic jogs to catch up to us, though I’m sure he’d rather bolt than be part of an intimate discussion with his ex–best friend.

Once we come to a stop, I tug my arm from Bret’s hand and spin to face him. “Seriously, what is your deal?”

“This.” He holds up his phone, showing Dominic and me a picture.

A picture of Agent Sharp and me talking in one of the hotel stairwells. It’s taken from half a dozen floors up. “Where did you get that?” I demand.

So he hasn’t ditched his creepy photo blackmail habit. Great. What else has he taken pics of during this trip? Me sneaking away from the group? Me conning stage moms out of their money?

“I got it from Justice’s phone. She’s worried about you and wanted me on the lookout for your ex,” he says, emphasizing the last two words. “The real question is what the hell are you doing with this guy?”

Beside me, Dominic shifts, looking extremely uncomfortable. I roll my eyes and fake annoyance. “I’ve already been over this with Justice and Chantel. It was a mistake. He and I are over—”

“Cut the bullshit, Ellie!” Bret says, surprising me so much that I flinch at his raised voice. “Do you know who he is?”

I can feel Dominic’s eyes on me, waiting for a new lie to spill out of my mouth. But I can’t think of anything.

Slowly the anger falls from Bret’s face, and his eyes widen. “Oh shit. You don’t know who he is, do you?”

“You mean the FBI agent part?” I say.

Bret now looks panicked. “He’s also one of Jack’s cronies.”

For a moment everything feels out of place—Bret saying Jack’s name, telling me I’m in danger. I’ve hardly spoken to the guy in weeks. But then I remember that Bret knew Jack. He bought a gun from him in exchange for some compromising photos of Dominic and Simon. God that feels like an eternity ago.

As the pieces click together in my head and I’m good and panicking, Bret adds, “He’s in the league of dirty agents, Ellie.”