Keeping Me (Spy Chronicles Book 2)(13)

Sebastian laughs. “Is that your way of telling me that you’re attracted to me?”

“What? No,” I say. “I mean, I guess I am. But that doesn’t mean I like you. I like you. As a friend. But that’s it. I’m just saying there are worse people I could be on a road trip with.”

“Better stay that way, Princess,” he says. “We can’t be anything more than friends.

“It will,” I say, but I’m not sure how truthful I’m being. I can’t possibly know how I’ll feel in the future about this boy. But I say it, because I know it’s what he needs to hear.





Get used to it.





An hour and a half later we are on the road again.

Oh, and I found out my favorite kind of soda is Dr. Pepper. At least, I think so.

We finally pass the Oklahoma state line and I find that it is indeed just as flat as Texas is. It’s been flat since somewhere in California, and I am ready to see some hills. At least there are trees and grass now. I definitely don’t think desert living is for me.

In Oklahoma, I start seeing signs for St. Louis, so I’m pretty sure that means we are going somewhere in Missouri. Or Illinois. I’ve never been to either state, so I am excited.

After another four hours in the car, we stop at a random truck stop to get gas and a drink. As we are walking inside, I notice a line of motorcycles sitting in the front. I carefully walk around those. I know enough about motorcycle gangs to know that I definitely shouldn’t touch their bike. Bass notices me doing it and he laughs at me.

“You’re not that clumsy. I doubt you’ll trip on a motorcycle,” he says.

Not that clumsy?

“I’m clumsy?” I ask.

“A little,” he answers. “Once I train you, you won’t be.”

“I’ve never rode on a motorcycle,” I tell Bass, as we get out of the car. “It seems like fun.”

“Lucky for you, Sander and I were really into motocross when we were younger,” Bass says. “I’ll find a way to make it happen.”

What is it with the guys from Spy School? They make it their mission in life to make sure I try everything, just once.

When we get to the front of the store, he opens the door for me and I walk in. He follows closely behind me. Always close. I swear he barely even lets me go pee by myself. I suppose it’s what he’s supposed to do—keep me safe at all costs. But it seems like overkill. I doubt Nolan knows we’re in the middle of Oklahoma.

After going to the bathroom and getting drinks, we start to head back to the car. I notice that half of the motorcycles now have a guy on them—all middle aged guys. Bass pulls me closer to him as we walk by and the whole time I’m hoping that I don’t trip into one of the bikes. Because, seriously. I’m so busy watching them that I don’t notice a guy with a gun walking up to us.

I hear the sound of a gun cocking and I look up.

There is a guy in a dark-colored hoodie. His hood is pulled up. He’s aiming the gun at Sebastian and me, but he’s not holding the gun the right way. After a couple of classes at Spy School, even I know that. He’s holding it to the side, like they do in movies.

“Give me your money,” the guy says.

The bikers have taken notice and start walking towards us. But we don’t need them, because Bass has the gun out of the guy’s hand in three seconds flat. He unloads the gun and then tosses it to one of the bikers. The guy starts to run, but Bass grabs him and puts him on the ground.

“Wow,” one of the bikers say.

I notice that one of them had a cell phone out, recording.

“Crap,” Bass says, obviously just noticing. He hits the back of the guy’s head on the ground, knocking him out. Then he walks over to the guy with a cell phone, grabs it, and does something. I guess he deletes the video. He then hands the phone back, grabs my hand, and pulls me to the car as fast as he can.

“You are awesome,” I tell Bass, once we are pulling out of the gas station.

He doesn’t worry about his speed as we pull out.

“That was bad. Really bad. We’ve got thirty minutes before I can switch cars,” he says. “We’ve got to get out of here before the cops can find us, and I have to torch this car.”

“Torch?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says, acting nonchalant—like he just torches cars for fun. But then again, this is Bass. He probably does.

“What happens if the cops find us?”

“Plan B,” he answers, watching the road. “And trust me, you don’t want plan B.”

I believe him.

“But don’t worry. I can outrun the cops,” Bass says.

“Good.”

“Your dad is going to be so mad if the cops find us,” he says. “If the cops find us, then Nolan will know right where we are.”

“Since when are you scared of my dad?” I ask. “You’re not scared of anything.”

“I'm not scared of your dad,” he says. “I just want him to like me. He's kind of my boss.”

“My dad let you take me on a road trip across the United States. Alone. I'd say he likes you and trusts you a lot,” I say.

“Your father didn't have a choice. I'm pretty sure me taking you was a last resort plan,” he says. “He had a lot of plans.”