Trust Me (Find Me, #3) by Romily Bernard
Dedication
For Natalie Richards—I wouldn’t be here without you
1
Is it still kidnapping if your mom lets them take you? Because it definitely feels like kidnapping—no matter how many times Agent Hart smiles at me.
“C’mon, Wick,” he says, rebuttoning the front of his suit jacket because I won’t shake his hand. “I promise you’ll like where you’re going.”
Doubtful. That smile snakes chills up my spine. “Bren?” I call, wincing when my voice cracks. My adoptive mom left me with Hart so we could “talk,” but I’m so done talking. “Bren?”
Bren appears in our living room doorway, my duffel bag—already packed—in one hand. It kicks all the air right out of me.
“How long have you been planning this?” I whisper.
“It’s not like that, Wick.”
It is like that or she’d be able to meet my eyes.
“You’ll like it there,” Bren continues, her free hand going to her reddening neck. “Mr. Hart’s program is specifically designed for teenagers dealing with loss. He can keep you safe—keep you out of trouble.”
“I’m not in trouble.”
Yet. The word hangs between us and Bren takes a deep breath. “Your therapist thinks it’s for the best.”
“We’ve been watching you together, Wick,” Hart adds.
I flick my eyes to him, force myself to hold his gaze. The way Hart grins looks like a toothpaste ad, but I can hear the threat simmering underneath. He’s daring me to challenge him.
What if I did?
What if I told Bren everything? I could tell her how it all started when Hart gave me the videos of my mother informing on my father, how the informing led to my mother’s murder, how I found that murderer and made him pay.
I could tell Bren that I used to track down cheaters for money and that Detective Carson blackmailed me into working for him. I could tell her that my nightmares are so bad I’m afraid to sleep.
I could tell her I spent so much time being scared, I didn’t know what it felt like to be safe until it was too late.
Hart steps closer. “We know how much you’ve been struggling. Your therapist thinks your PTSD stems from what happened with your foster father.”
I stiffen. My foster father is better known as Bren’s husband, or ex-husband, Todd. He raped a childhood friend of mine. It drove her to suicide; then he switched his attention to my sister.
And then to me.
I caught him before he could hurt anyone else, but the way I did it wasn’t exactly legal and I attracted Detective Carson’s notice. He threatened to tell Bren everything if I didn’t work for him. I agreed. After the damage Todd’s crimes did to Lily and Bren . . . well, how could I not have agreed? He was going to ruin what was supposed to be the rest of our lives.
I lift my chin a little higher. “Yeah, so?”
“Looking Glass,” Hart says softly, “is a very special program. We can help you get back your control, your life. It’s designed specifically for teens with your computer talents. You’ll be safe there. I’m asking you to trust me—just for a little while.”
I stay still.
“We really need to get going, Mrs. Callaway,” Hart says, turning that full-watt smile on my adoptive mom. There’s something plastic about him. It’s the way his chestnut-colored hair doesn’t move, how his shoes are shined. Hart’s like a Ken doll come to life except for the bulge at the small of his back. Is that a pistol?
Hart’s careful to always face Bren so she won’t see it, but I do. What kind of counselor needs a gun? This isn’t good, but if I tell Bren, what happens? Will he tell her everything he knows about me? That’s worse.
“I want to get Wick settled before dinner,” Hart says. “She’ll need to meet the other teens, see the facilities—”
“What about Lily?” Saying my little sister’s name conjures tears in my eyes and I force my chin higher. “How am I supposed to say good-bye?”
Bren focuses on her feet. “I’ll tell her what happened.”
She’s really going to give me up. I blink; blink again because now my eyes are stinging. I know how this works. I’ve been through enough foster homes to understand how to leave. I knew this wouldn’t last.
But I didn’t know how much it would hurt. The pain is incandescent. I feel like I could walk around it, sling it across my shoulders, and carry it. Bren was supposed to be forever and I was stupid enough to believe her.
“Please, Bren. Please don’t do this.” The words shoot from me before I’m even aware I’m saying them. “Please don’t send me away.”
For the first time since Hart arrived, Bren looks at me. “It’s for your own good, Wick. It’s not just the . . . acting out.” Her voice drops into a whisper and she edges closer. “It’s not safe for you here.”
My heart double thumps. “What are you talking about?”