Keeping Me (Spy Chronicles Book 2)(11)

“And you still trusted him after that?” Bass asks.

“Nolan gave me food. And he rescued me from a miserable life,” I say. “And then he introduced me to my dad. He brought so much good into my life until...”

“Until he shot Gage,” Bass says, letting out a breath. “I see why you liked him. Your life was unfair and crappy. He saved you.”

“Yeah,” I say, glad that he finally understands.

“I wish I had been the one to save you.”

I imagine Bass infiltrating my life the way the boys did, but somehow it's not quite the same.

“I'm not sure the un-rescued me could've handled your cynical outlook on life,” I tell him.

“Ha ha,” he says, but smiles.

In a weird way, I think Bass and I understand each other.

No matter where this road trip ends, I have a feeling things are going to get very interesting once we get there.





I wonder how big that steak is.





“I’m bored,” I say to Bass.

This whole road trip thing isn’t as exciting as I thought it would be, and we’ve been on the flattest, most boring road ever. It’s hot outside, so we’ve had the air conditioner on full blast, and I’ve found out that Bass doesn’t like music. Any music. We’ve just been alone in our own silence.

“Well, there isn’t exactly anything to do out here,” Bass says, motioning in front of us with his hand. “Besides, I offered to stop at the Cadillac Ranch earlier.”

I stick my tongue out at him.

I was surprised to learn that there is, in fact, a Cadillac Ranch. Apparently people are allowed to spray paint these old cars with graffiti. But I don’t have one artistic bone in my body, so I vetoed that pretty quickly. He only offered because I had been complaining of boredom for the last few hours.

“How much farther?” I ask.

“A ways,” he answers. “A little less than ten hours now. We’re close to the Oklahoma state line.”

“Oklahoma?” I ask, sitting up a little straighter.

“Oklahoma is just as flat as Texas,” he says.

I frown, sitting back. “Ugh. These people should all live in Florida. It’s pretty there.”

“Not all of Texas is flat. Just the parts we’re going through,” Bass says.

“If we still have ten hours then Oklahoma is not our final place,” I say, tapping a finger on my face. “There are a few options, I suppose. Arkansas or Missouri. I doubt we’re going to Louisiana, because that’s the other way. I suppose we could be going to Mississippi, Tennessee or maybe even Illinois. Eh, probably not Mississippi. We’d be going south for that.”

“You know a lot about American geography,” he says.

“There’s not a lot to do when your family hates you and you spend most of your time locked in your bedroom,” I say. “I made straight A’s in school. I figured if I was ever going to get out of that house, college was going to be how.”

“Well, one of the states you said is correct.”

“Why won’t you just tell me?” I ask.

“Because this is so much more fun,” he says.

“I'll figure it out,” I say, confidently.

“I'm sure you will.”

“I'm hungry.”

“You're always hungry,” he says.

“Seriously,” I say, just as my stomach growls.

He sighs. “Fine. We’d better stop before your stomach literally eats you.”

“Thanks.”

We drive a few more miles and there is a huge billboard that says “Largest Steak in Texas.”

Bass grins and glances from the road to me. “I wonder just how big that steak is.”

“I've never had a steak before,” I say. “But I bet it's yummy.”

He turns on the blinker and gets off the exit.

“So, what is it with Texas and steak?” I ask.

“You’d have to be from Texas to understand,” he says, as we pull onto a busy street off the interstate.

“Well, this is my first time in Texas,” I say, reminding him that I’ve literally been nowhere in my short life.

“Where have you been?” Bass asks. “I mean, before the whole move to Switzerland.”

“Well, just Florida. I mean, that I know of. I’m sure before the whole kidnapping thing, I was at places that I can’t remember,” I answer. “But my memories only go back as far as Florida. We’ve always lived in the same city, but when I was fourteen, we moved from the north side of the city to the south side. I remember my stepbrother wasn’t happy about it, because he had to leave his friends behind, but I liked the new school better. The classes were more advanced.”

“What about family vacation?”

I shrug. “We didn’t do family vacations. Well, we did go to the zoo once. I got in trouble for something and didn’t get any ice cream. I was eight at the time, and had to watch my stepbrother eat his ice cream right in front of me. Other than that, they mostly left me with neighbors when they went on vacation.”

“That’s just sad.”

“Yeah,” I say. “But I think we’ve already established that my life before Switzerland was just a big bowl of suck.”