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“Good girl,” he says, and I’m just about to open my mouth when he tucks his gun into the back of his pants, leans down, and scoops me into his arms, setting off for the stairs.
“What are you doing?” I seethe.
“I’m carrying you to my room. I’m not letting you go first because you don’t know where you’re going, and I’m not going to go first and give you time to run again. This is the next best option.”
I’m smart enough to stop arguing as he climbs the narrow metal stairs. It dawns on me that all he has to do is toss me over the edge of the railing, and I could be dead.
On the first level, he kicks in one of the doors and brings me inside.
The warm smell of whiskey suddenly wraps around me like a hug as Ronan tosses me roughly onto the bed.
“Get some sleep,” he says. “I’ll explain everything I can tomorrow, okay? Will you just do what I ask if I promise you that?”
I nod. It’s all I can ask for right now. Some answers.
SEVEN
RONAN
Sydney finally fallsasleep in my bed, cocooned in my comforter. It’s getting chilly here, and she’s been sweaty with fear all night. I really hope she doesn’t get sick.
My thumb runs across my lip as I watch her from the loveseat in the corner of my room, measuring the steady rise and fall of the blankets. I shouldn’t care about her health.
I’ve been a Fallen Angel for, well, I would say as long as I can remember, but for me, that’s only about ten years. A spy that infiltrated his own government. An informant. I’ve worked hard to build up my resume, gaining the trust of my peers.
But I’m watching them all, keeping them in check.
Most importantly, I’m keeping a close eye on the politicians and high-powered individuals who belong to a specific secret society within the US. We’re not sure what they’re planning. Not even quite sure who is part of it, but we know it’s there and they have connections we can only dream of knowing.
But they don’t know about us. We’re sure about that after we took out Senator Bernard Huxley just a few months ago after he kidnapped his daughter, a Fallen Angel whom he killed years ago, and didn’t understand what was going on. He wanted answers for the secret society. Thankfully, he didn’t get any. Not that it would have mattered. He was dead before he would have been able to hand over our secrets. We weren’t even the ones to kill him.
I lean back in the chair, thinking about what will happen in the coming days.
Jerry has had a chip on her shoulder since the moment I met her. She’s one of the few of us who remembers life before the Fallen Angels, and there’s a good reason for that. Although Sydney is a means to an end, and although I think she’s annoying, I also think that she’s fairly innocent. Just someone trying to live her life. Someone trying desperately to leave the past in the past and to not let it creep into her future.
But some people can’t run from our pasts like we can. Like I have.
While I’ve had my memories wiped, my past is a kaleidoscope of color I’ll never possibly recollect. Some don’t have that benefit. Some people have to live with what’s happened to them.
And I feel pity for them.
I’d rather run.
I think Sydney and I are similar in that way.
Sighing, I get up from my spot and head for the bathroom, swiping a pair of sweats and a T-shirt on my way by my dresser. Closing the door softly so as to not disturb her sleep, I slip off my clothes, turning on the shower in the process. It’s been a long day, and all I want to do is close my eyes for a few hours before I have to get up and have what is likely to be another difficult, taxing day as I deal with whatever bullshit Jerry throws my way.
Don’t get me wrong, I adore Jerry. We all do here. She’s like the sister none of us have. She’s family, the glue that keeps us together. But with that comes a lot of bullshit. A lot of things are just thrown at us without a care in the world because she knows she’ll get away with it.
It’s how she started to lead us. We never elected her to the spot. None of our handlers gave her the position. She took it.
You have to respect it.
Stepping into the cold shower, I turn the shower handle, warming the water up. I need my muscles to let go of the built-up stress.
I need to relax.
I also need to stop thinking about Sydney.
