“I’m not your girlfriend,” she reminded him. Saying it aloud made her feel empty.
“Are you not?” His brows flicked up. “I don’t remember you breaking up with me.”
“Come on, Deacon. We both know this isn’t going to work. We both want different things.”
“Do we?” He slipped a hand around her waist and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “What do you want, Vivienne?”
How was she supposed to answer that question? With him standing this close, dusting kisses across her jaw, her neck . . . it was impossible to think straight.
“I want someone who isn’t going to break my heart.”
“I won’t break your heart,” he whispered, bringing his mouth to hers, “if you promise not to break mine.”
“Deacon, you know it’s not necessary for you to stay here for this.” Paul Mitter’s longing expression faded as he sighed toward the exit.
“I believe it is necessary,” Deacon said, scooting his chair closer to Vivienne’s.
They had gotten back to Kensington an hour ago, and she had barely had time to shower before being called to meet with External Affairs.
Paul adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “If you gave me a bit of time on my own with Vivienne to—”
“I’m not going anywhere unless Vivienne asks me to,” he drawled.
Paul cast hopeful eyes toward her. “Vivienne?”
She smiled politely but knew she wanted Deacon at her side. “He can stay.”
“Have it your way,” Paul grumbled, flipping open the legal pad and taking the lid off the top of his pen. “Okay, let’s get right to it. We know your foster family released a video offering a reward in exchange for information on your whereabouts.”
Vivienne clenched her hands together in her lap. “That’s what Deacon told me.” And the betrayal she felt cut her to her core. They had worked with HOOK—had nearly gotten her killed.
“We have it on good authority that someone in Maryland called the tip line regarding your location. We also believe we know who has been reporting to HOOK.”
Please don’t say Lyle . . . Please don’t say Lyle . . .
“Lynn made the initial call when you went into the hospital,” he went on, “and she appears to have been the only one communicating with them.”
If Lynn was the mole, that meant . . . “Lyle is clear?”
A nod. “We believe your foster brother has no connection with HOOK.”
“I knew it!” She punched the air victoriously. “Can I see him?” Lyle was going to freak out when she told him.
“We’ll discuss that in a minute. First, I need you to walk me through what happened Thursday evening.”
She relayed every detail she could remember from the night in question. When she got to the point where Lawrence had threatened to take Megan, Paul stopped her. “You should’ve followed procedure and abandoned the mark to save yourself.”
“There were four of them,” she said, wiggling four fingers toward him, “and only one of me. I did what I thought was best.”
“It was the right decision,” Deacon chimed in, putting his arm around her; she leaned into his warmth. “Wouldn’t you agree, Paul?”
Paul hummed as he made a notation on his paper. “Did you give HOOK any information regarding our whereabouts?”
Did he really think she’d do that? “Of course not.”
“Don’t look so horrified. You know I have to ask.”
“Lawrence only once asked me where I’ve been hiding. Then Jasper arrived, and the interrogation ended.”
Paul looked over the rim of his glasses and asked why it ended.
She was no closer to knowing the answer to his question than she had been that morning. “I know this is going to sound strange, but it seemed like Lawrence didn’t want his brother to hear. He had photos of Ethan, Megan, and Deacon, but he hid the pictures the moment Jasper came in.”
Deacon twisted toward her; his brows came together. “Where did he get photos of me?”
“I think they were from the hospital in Ohio. Don’t worry,” she told him, dismissing his concern with a wave, “they don’t know who you are. Lawrence referred to you as The Shadow.”
“The Shadow?” Deacon snorted. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think, Paul?”
Paul grunted and rolled his eyes. When he finished writing, he placed his pen at the top of his notebook and flipped through the pages with a thoughtful expression on his face.
Deacon opened his hand in his lap, and she laced her fingers through his.
“The bad news is…” Paul yawned and removed his glasses so he could rub the weariness from his eyes. It was late, and the poor guy looked tired. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost. “We know Lynn was the one to call HOOK, but we don’t understand how she knew to contact them.”
“It must have something to do with my parents.” Light, reassuring pressure from Deacon’s hand gave her the courage to continue, and she explained what Lawrence told her about them.
“If your connection with HOOK goes back twelve years,” Paul said thoughtfully, “we need to look beyond Lynn. There’s more to this story—and I will find out what it is.”
“What’s the good news?” After the week she’d had, she could certainly use some.
“The good news is, anyone who doubted you before now knows where your commitment lies.”
“And Lyle?”
“After things die down,” Paul said, putting his notebook and pen into his briefcase, “you should be able to contact—and perhaps even see—your foster brother.”
When they were finished, Vivienne and Deacon walked out of the Hall hand-in-hand. Moonlight fell in silver waves over the Kensington campus. The hush of night whispered on the breeze, welcoming her home.
“What now?” Vivienne asked, her eyes fixed on the stars twinkling above them.
Deacon drew her into his arms. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.
“Now,” he said, placing a tender kiss to her hairline before resting his forehead against hers, “we get into trouble.”
Want a sneak peek?
Read on for a sneak preview of Book II in The P.A.N. Trilogy
(Landing Spring 2021)
Jasper Hooke still remembered the first time he saw a human fly. He had been eight years old, and his father had gone on yet another trip to yet another town to help the less fortunate with minor medical issues—pro bono, of course. That left Jasper and his fifteen-year-old brother, Lawrence, with their creepy grandfather in his even creepier house.
Old Edward Hooke never smiled and made no effort to feign concern for his grandsons. Lawrence was his favorite, but that wasn’t saying much—Edward seemed to despise them both. While he and his brother were there, his grandfather’s housekeeper served as their inattentive guardian. Jasper was used to fending for himself at home, so having very little supervision in his grandfather’s cavernous mansion felt normal.
That fateful day, the housekeeper had called in sick.