Free (Blood and Bone, #2) Sin and Swoon by Tara Brown

from me. “I haven’t been honest.” His eyes narrow, and the hint of the accent I have caught before is completely there.
    “I know.”
    He nods. “I saw you go to the school today—”
    “You followed me?”
    He winces but doesn’t back down. “I had to. It’s my job.” He takes a step closer. “I am trying to find someone, and I trailed you because you fit the person’s taste in women.”
    His story sounds insane, but I don’t say anything. What could I even add?
    “Me and a few others have been hoping the guy would try to grab you and we would be there. We would keep you safe. But it hasn’t happened. He hasn’t tried, even though this is his favorite city and you are his favorite type of girl.”
    My stomach slips from its usual spot right into my bowels. “You have been waiting for me to get abducted? Are you insane? By who?”
    “Whom. And we don’t know. That’s why we’ve kept close tabs on you and a couple of other girls, and so far nothing. If we knew him he’d be in jail.”
    My skin crawls, and the liquor makes my reaction to this ridiculousness painful. “Who is ‘we’? What do you do for a living?”
    He clenches his jaw and looks down. “I work for the government, in surveillance and undercover work.”
    “What’s your name?”
    “Rory Guthrie. I used to be Irish intelligence, and now I am American.” He looks down, fighting something, his words maybe. “And I have made a mistake telling you this, but I need this to end. The guy isn’t ever coming to grab you. He isn’t ever going to take you, because I’m always here. I ended it because I needed to do my job, and I wasn’t.”
    I feel sick, but scared of the hot dog piece that might actually kill me. “Is that really your cabin?”
    He nods.
    “So you took me there against the rules then? Against the plan?”
    He doesn’t need to nod; the guilt all over his face is enough.
    “But Angie knew you. You said she knew you. Is that why I can’t seem to get hold of her? Is she one of you?”
    He swallows. “She is. She had to go back home for something.”
    “So she is a liar like you?”
    He chuckles a little under his breath. “We lie for a living.”
    “How do I know you’re not lying now?”
    His dark-blue eyes meet mine, and I know. “I’m not. I love you, and that’s a problem for me. I need to get past you. I need to let you go.” He pauses and gives in, ending the battle I have seen with his will. “And I can’t.” He looks so vulnerable, like the struggle to not be with me is real.
    So I jump him.
    It isn’t the most rational choice, and it makes almost no sense to me and clearly none to him, but I do it anyway. He lifts me into his big arms, cradling me and taking away all the pain. I believe his lies and his bullshit. I believe because I don’t want him to be crazy, which makes far more sense. All of it makes more sense this way. How I ended up at his house when I was sick. How I never see him in public and am not allowed to tell anyone who he is. How he doesn’t actually do the job he lies about doing.
    Yes, this makes sense. He kisses, sucking my lips and grinding my body into his. I let him carry me back to the Jeep. We don’t make love there. He places me in the seat and does up my belt. He closes the door and walks around to the other side, getting in and starting the Jeep. I watch him drive as long as I can before I pass out into the blackest oblivion I have ever been in.

8. The dugout
     I remember very little, but I know I fell asleep in the black oblivion, and when I wake I’m still in it. Only I don’t feel like I’m in the Jeep.
    I’m somewhere else.
    The air is thick and cold—heady, if that’s a possible trait for air. I feel as though I exhale and then inhale the very same air. My lips hurt when I open my mouth. I honestly don’t know what to think.
    My eyes fuzz in and out, unable to catch one thing to focus on here in the dark. I shiver and lie back on whatever surface I am