Free The Girl Who Wasn't by Heather Hildenbrand

that first day is back. Now
I understand it: distrust. He already knows something. I have no
idea how much, but I try to smooth it over.
    “ I mean life … in the
spotlight, the death threats. They scare me.”
    “ Huh,” he grunts and I know
he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t press it.
    We go back to staring out over the
rooftops. We don’t speak again until his watch beeps some sort of
alarm.
    “ What is it?” I
ask.
    “ We need to head back. Gus
will be expecting us.”
    “ They went home?” I ask,
surprised to be left so alone.
    “ They tried transporting the
prisoner. The second guy. Titus wanted to talk to him.”
    “ What do you mean
tried?”
    “ He died before they could
get him there.” There is no emotion in his words when he says it,
and I wonder how hard it is for him to turn it off. I can’t imagine
what it would feel like to kill something—or someone—but it can’t
be easy or without consequences. And Linc is not unfeeling. I saw
it when he spoke of his brother.
    “ What will they do with
them? The men who attacked me?”
    He shrugs. “Background check them.
Fingerprints, the whole nine yards. Titus has a lot of connections
so he doesn’t have to go through the proper channels. He’ll turn
their bodies over to the police once his private forensics team has
learned all they can.”
    “ He doesn’t think it ends
with them?”
    “ No, they were hired thugs.
There’s got to be a master planner pulling the strings. That’s who
Titus wants.”
    I nod, knowing he is right. Titus wants
the master planner so badly, he would risk leaving me here alone on
this rooftop with Linc so that he can focus on the dead men being
transported to him for investigation. I wonder what sort of
reception I’ll receive when Titus has time to care about me
again.
    “ Do they—did you tell them I
tried to leave?” I ask.
    “ No.”
    “ Why not?”
    He turns to me and scoffs. “How far do
you think you would’ve gotten, anyway? No money, no car, nothing.
Your dad has everyone in this city in his pocket. No way you
could’ve disappeared. I get that you’re scared but running off
alone is not the answer.”
    He’s right, of course, but I don’t say
it. I’m too busy remembering the one thing that should’ve stopped
me from the insanity of escape in the first place. Money, cars,
connections—none of it would’ve mattered. I am a product. Equipped
with GPS tracking and a kill switch embedded directly into my body.
The minute I left this rooftop, Titus would’ve either retrieved me
or terminated me. How could I have forgotten?
    I decide then and there not to drink
vodka ever again. I go back to staring out at the rooftops. It’s
not nearly as relaxing anymore, not with thoughts of dead men and
GPS trackers and Titus crowding in. I know Linc is waiting on me to
start for home, but I am desperate for just one more
moment.
    “ They know I didn’t die,” I
say finally.
    “ You say that like it’s a
bad thing.”
    I can tell by his expression he is
trying to make a joke. It falls flat. I don’t smile. “Depends on
who you ask.”
    His forehead creases in confusion but
before he can ask, the communicator on his watch beeps again.
“Damn,” he mutters.
    He shuts it off and then looks at me
for so long my pulse accelerates. “Are you okay now?” he asks, and
I can tell he means it because it feels like he’s looking so much
deeper than at my outsides.
    “ I am,” I answer because in
this moment, it is true.
    He smiles. It’s small and lopsided,
like his mouth is unsure if that’s really what it’s being told to
do, and I love the way it looks on him. Something inside me cracks
and reseals.
    “ Good. Let’s get out of
here.” He turns toward the exit and offers me his hand. When I take
it, it’s warm, comforting. It reminds me that he is the only person
on my side, the only one actually trying to prevent my
death.
    I shiver, comfort and fear an equal
mix.
    “ You cold?”