Tears tracked down her cheeks, but she smiled at the memories. If she had ended up on that wall, she wondered what people would remember of her. Crazy hair colors. Artsy. Shitty attitude.
Fortunately, she didn’t have to know. She’d been one of the lucky ones. And for the first time, the full weight of what that meant settled on her. She could still change her story. There was no ending on her pages yet. No name etched in stone.
She opened the letter that Finn had returned to her and ran her eyes over it again, her gaze lingering on the last line. I promise, Class of 2005, to live the life that scares me.
Time to really keep that promise, not just pay lip service to it.
She wiped away her tears, stood, and walked over to the fountain. Her rippled reflection stared back at her—changed but not as far from the girl who used to walk these halls as she thought. She smiled back at herself, ripped up the letter, and tossed the pieces into the water, watching as the ink bled along the paper and the old loose-leaf disintegrated in the bubbling water.
Love never ends. But fear could.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and typed.
chapter
TWENTY-EIGHT
Finn shifted in the first-class airplane seat and tried not to bump Billings’s coffee out of his hand. The flight attendants had already closed the doors and were making the preflight announcements to make sure everyone’s electronic devices were off and seat belts were fastened, but Finn’s heart was pounding like he was a nervous flier. He couldn’t get the image out of his head of Liv by the lake, begging him to stay. He’d almost called her a hundred times since he’d walked out, but he didn’t know what to say to make this better. He had a duty. He’d made a promise.
He clenched his jaw, trying to force down that burning in his chest, and flipped through the file Billings had thrust into his hand for in-air reading. He needed distraction. Needed to remember why he was doing this.
The first few pages were write-ups of the crimes that had been committed with weapons traced back to this organization. He’d expected to see the standard list of gun-related crimes: robberies, street violence, domestic stuff. But instead the list had a distinct trend. Crimes committed by teens. The Long Acre shooting was one of the earliest ones. But others had followed. A fifteen-year-old in Kentucky who’d killed his family. A seventeen-year-old who’d shot his boss at the movie theater where he worked on weekends. Another school shooting in Florida.
Finn frowned. “These guys have a specific market.”
Billings grunted. “Yeah, kids with enough money and smarts to find what they need on the internet. We haven’t figured out the exact method, but somehow they find the kids using keywords and then offer to help. Of course, they do the actual deal and exchange offline. We haven’t figured out the logistics of that yet. That’s one of the things we need you for.”
Finn flipped through a few more pages. “Have we posed as a teen needing that kind of help online?”
He nodded. “We’ve tried. No bites. They haven’t been operating this without being exceptionally savvy. We suspect they know they’re on our radar. That’s what’s going to make it so tough to get you in. We need to be very precise about how we do that, and I need you one hundred percent focused. Any chink in your cover, and they’ll shoot first, ask questions later.”
“Great.” Finn ran a hand through his hair. There was nothing more dangerous than trying to infiltrate a group that already suspected someone was on to them. Normally, that wouldn’t faze him, but for the first time i
n longer than he could remember, a thread of unease curled up his spine.
He’d lived in dangerous situations for years. One slipup, one wrong move, and your cover was blown—and so were your chances of getting out alive. He’d thrived on that adrenaline, on knowing he could outsmart criminals. If he died trying, that was part of the deal. He’d accepted that a long time ago. But now the idea didn’t settle so easily in his head.
“Be honest, boss,” he said, looking Billings’s way. “Suicide mission?”
Lines appeared in Billings’s face, his gaze serious. “If you had asked me that a few months ago, I would’ve said yes. You were looking for a reason to go down in a blaze of glory. This mission will provide opportunity for that. You could have the hero’s death. Agent avenges his classmates in one last heroic face-off.”
The words made Finn’s stomach hollow out.
“But that’s why I forced you to take this break,” Billings said, voice gruff. “You’ve earned this opportunity to go after them, but I need you to do it with your head on straight and your priorities in check. And from what I saw and heard over the last few weeks, you found the secret weapon that will help get you through this alive.”
“Secret weapon?”
Billings patted Finn’s arm, and his lips lifted at the corners. “You reconnected with your family and friends. I saw those pictures with you, your mom, and your sister. You’re not going to want to break their hearts by going and getting yourself killed. You have people waiting for you to get back.”
Finn leaned back in his seat, snapshots of the summer drifting through his mind. His sister throwing her arms around him. His mother telling him about her new business idea. Of course, that was motivation enough. He didn’t want to hurt his family.
But his mind zeroed in on another part of that picture. The girl behind the camera in those photos.
Liv.
Smiling his way. Making him laugh. Curling up next to him at night.
A bone-deep ache settled into him. She wouldn’t be waiting for him when he got home. He didn’t blame her. It was too much to ask, especially when he didn’t know how long he’d be gone. Or if he’d make it back. She’d been through enough hurt, and he didn’t want to add to it.