Keeping Me (Spy Chronicles Book 2)(41)

Let me out! I cried.

But nobody listens.

They never do.

Please! I promise I won’t do it again!

The truth is I’m not even sure what I did. I’m never sure. I just know that I can’t take being in the closet anymore.

“Serenity.”

I hear my name, but it doesn’t belong here. Not in the closet. Here, I am Karlie.

But I’m not in a closet.

I was rescued.

“Serenity,” I hear Sebastian say again, this time I can hear the desperation in his voice. “Please, just come back to me. Please.”

“Sebastian,” I say, opening my eyes.

It’s then that I see him crying.

“Sebastian, I’m sorry,” I say. “It was just a panic attack. I promise, I’m okay.”

He doesn’t say anything, he just grabs me and pulls me into his arms. I’m not sure who he’s trying to comfort—him or me. But I love that he’s holding me, because it’s just what I need.

“If I ever meet the people who took you, I am going to kill them for all they did to you,” Sebastian says.

“No. They're not worth the hate and anger,” I say. “I forgave them for all they did and you should, too. I refuse to let them affect me anymore.”

“You were screaming because they locked you in a closet,” he says.

“I said that?” I ask, then shake my head. “It doesn't matter. I have anxiety from what happened. But I'm safe now. I'm with you.”

“You're not safe. You're never safe,” he says.

“I know that you will protect me.”

“I will,” he says.

“So, what are we going to do about my dad?”

“We wait,” he says.

Wait.

I'm not good at waiting.

“What if our location is compromised?” I ask.

He laughs. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, S. Nobody is going to find us. Even if they know we’re in New Zealand, we’re safe here.”

“Okay,” I say. “But what if we’re not?”

“Well, that’s what your training is for. Sometimes, you do get caught. And when you do, you’ve got to know how to protect yourself,” he says.

“With guns?”

“Among other things,” he says.

“Don’t tell me we have grenades,” I say, completely joking.

“A few. But you’re not going to use those until you’ve been properly trained,” Sebastian says.

“Oh.”

We really do have grenades.

Oh, my gosh.

“We usually train our whole life,” Bass says. “My mom didn’t want me in spy school, but she taught me a lot. I think she was worried my dad would find us one day. But my uncle, Sander’s dad, taught me how to do the stunt driving. But even before that, Sander and I rode motorcycles and four wheelers.”

“That’s cool,” I say. “This is my first experience with any kind of training.”

“Which is even more impressive,” he says. “Because you’re good.”

I don’t feel like I’m good. But then again, I’ve been around Sebastian, Gage, Sander, my dad, and the rest of the guys. They’re the best. I’ll probably never be the best. But I am never going to stop trying.

“If Sander and the rest of the guys are all on one team, how come they’re all off on individual missions right now?” I ask.

“Each of them has a special set of skills that are needed in different places,” Sebastian says. “While they prefer working together, and usually do work together, they have to split up sometimes. Maybe for a few months, or a year. But they’ll be back together.”

“Why did they all come for me?” I ask.

“From what I understand, your dad was worried that once your identity was discovered, you’d be in danger. He didn’t even tell them at first that they were looking for you. They just thought it was some random teenaged girl,” he says.

“They must have thought I was weird,” I say.

“Why do you say that?”

“The first time that Jaxon saw me, I was dancing in the rain.”

Sebastian laughs. “That’s just you.”

“Yeah, but then I ignored Gage and Hunter the first day of school. And I sat on the floor of my lunchroom cafeteria,” I say.

“Which explains why you were so uncomfortable the first day of Spy School at lunch,” Bass says. “And I yelled at you for sitting in my seat.”

“But you thought I’d be a spoiled rich girl,” I say.

“I should’ve just looked you in the eye. If I had, I would’ve seen the pain,” he says. “I’m sorry I was rude.”

I just shrug. “I’m used to it... to you being rude.”

“Ouch,” he says. “But you’re right. I am rude.”

“I get it. It’s a defense mechanism.”

“I was wrong about you,” he says. “I’m never wrong. Ever. But maybe it was because I had made up my mind about you before I ever saw you.”

“I already told you, it’s forgiven.”

He starts to say something, but a phone starts ringing.