Keeping Me (Spy Chronicles Book 2)(38)

“How do you know that?”

“Because you’re good,” I say. “Genuinely good. And I know that.”

“Well, you thought Nolan was good to.”

“Nolan was one of the first people I conversed with after being forced to not talk to anybody my entire life,” I say. “I didn’t see the signs. Sebastian, I let him drug me and I didn’t even think twice. I was young and naive.”

“That was three months ago.”

“In three months I have survived an explosion, I went to Spy School where I met an extremely stubborn boy who saved my life... more than once, I might add. I jumped from a two story window, went on a crazy road trip, and then somehow ended up on the other side of the world jumping out of an airplane,” I say. “Three months might as well be three years.”

“You forgot to mention strikingly handsome.”

“What?”

“You called me stubborn, but you failed to mention my good looks.”

I laugh. “Sebastian, I don’t think you need me to tell you that you’re hot. You already know that.”

“You think I’m hot?” he asks.

“I think that you are the most attractive guy I’ve ever met in my life,” I say. “Like, so handsome that sometimes it hurts to look at you.”

And I can’t believe I just admitted that out loud.

“I’ve pushed you away for a long time,” Sebastian says. “Why do you still like me? I feel like you should hate me.”

“Well, I don't hate you. And I never will,” I say. “Opposite, in fact.”

“Opposite?”

“You're my best friend,” I say. “I love you.”

And I do love him.

I love him as a friend.

And maybe I love him as more, I don't know.

But the truth is I do love Sebastian Soto. Always.

“Opposite,” he says again, this time smiling. “Okay, Princess, now I know you've been outside in the rain too long.”

“I thought you weren't going to call me princess anymore,” I say.

“I will call you whatever I want,” Sebastian says, taking another step closer. “Now come inside.”

“Nah, I think I'll stay here,” I say.

Even though it is kinda cold.

But Sebastian doesn't let me. He just picks me up like I weigh nothing and throws me over his shoulder. I am screaming and kicking the whole way in, but he doesn't budge. Just carries me inside and puts me down once we're inside the door.

“Not cool,” I say. “You can't just pick me up like that. And you definitely can't tell me what to do.”

Bass just smiles.

“You're so frustrating,” I say.

“Back at ya,” he says.

I turn to walk towards my room but I stop and turn back to him.

“You know that being a jerk doesn't change how I feel about you. And if you're trying to make me change my mind, it's not possible.”

“I'm not doing anything,” he says.

But I don't believe him.

Sebastian likes to push people away. I know him. He doesn't think he's worthy of love. But he doesn’t realize how wrong he is. It's a good thing that I am patient.

As I walk towards my room, I leave puddles behind me and for the first time in my life, I'm not worried about getting in trouble for making a mess.

Life is good.





Wednesday, October 4





A promise.





I look a lot like my mother.

She had brown eyes, where I have my dad’s green eyes, but if it weren’t for that, we’d be identical.

She was small, like me. Except, she wasn’t sickly skinny. She had curves. And muscles. And she was beautiful.

She opens her mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. It’s then that I realize I am dreaming. And I don’t want to wake up, because this is my mom. And even in my dream, I can feel just how much she loved me.

I watch as her eyes widen in terror and she looks down. I follow her gaze and see a huge red stain on her chest growing bigger at an alarming rate. I begin to scream, but no sound comes out. This dream is completely mute. And I just want to wake up.

“Serenity!” I hear somebody yell. But the voice doesn't fit my dream.

I just keep screaming.

Finally, I have control over my own body. I sit up and scream, “Mom!”

“Serenity.”

I look up and see Sebastian hovering over me.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

I nod.

Even though I'm far from okay.

“Bad dream?”

“Yeah,” I answer, biting my lip. I feel like it will keep me from crying, but so far it isn't working.

“I used to get bad dreams after my mom and I left,” Sebastian says. “I was only four at the time, but I remember being scared of my father finding us.”

“You don't seem like you'd be scared of anything,” I say.

“I am scared of more than I'm willing to admit,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of my bed beside me. “I'm so sorry, Serenity.”

“What are you sorry for?” I ask, wiping the tears from under my eyes.