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VANESSA

Because of his ear injury, Ethan can probably only hear bits and pieces of conversation. His focus is out the window. Pain is coursing through his head and ears, but through his blurred speech he claims he is getting better.

I give him some medicine and it knocks him out only a few minutes later. Maybe that'll give him some relief as his eardrums and brain try to recover.

I am not alone in the dreary bedroom. Amelia sits on the bed beside Ethan's bed, her legs crossed in front of her. Her hands rest on her knees, and she is humming something.

"Are you meditating?" I ask, curious.

She stops humming and frowns. "Not anymore."

"Do you do that a lot?" I query. "Does it help?"

"Yes and yes." She replies, a smile taking control of her lips. "It helps when I'm a little stressed. Helps me stop for a second and let my brain rest."

"I should try that." I reply truthfully; however, I don't really want to talk to her about meditation. There's something else that's been bothering me .

Tony taught me how to tell when someone is lying, and Amelia did. She lied when she was talking about her "friend" Livvy Elnora. I guess nobody else noticed her lie because they know her too well? I'm not sure.

"So, you don't have to, but I was wondering if you could tell me a little bit about Livvy. Was she as cool as you?" I ask, hoping this request doesn't rub her in the wrong way.

Amelia's grin only widens, which sparks relief in me. "No, she was definitely cooler. She loved leather and rock music and dancing like nobody was watching."

A gentle smile takes over my facial features, and I smoothly slide onto the end of the bed, facing her. "She sounds wild."

"She was." Amelia nods, something flickering in her eyes. "You're spot on. She loved adrenaline rushes and sour candy and trying the impossible."

There's something in her voice now that had not been in it earlier when she was talking with the boys. Something, like love. Affection. Longing.

"After she died I had no one to talk to." Amelia tells me, her lip trembling.

"If you had someone to talk to, what would've you said?" I query.

"Well if it was someone close to me, I would've said that I'll never be happy again." She shakes her head.

Dagger to the heart. "She must've been really important."

"You have no idea." Amelia's voice trails off, just as a tears trickle from her blank eyes. "Don't tell anyone, but she was... she was... the love of my life."

"Like..." My words don't form.

"Yeah. She was my girlfriend." Amelia replies, her smile so lovely. Then, her adoring expression drops in an instant. "You're not weird about that stuff, are you?"

"No, no." I reassure her with a brilliant smile.

"Okay. Good." The grin returns. "I mean, my brother doesn't really care that I'm bi. I mean, I told him once that I liked girls. I think he thought I was joking, so..."

"You're easy to talk to." She abruptly changes the conversation as she shifts her weight. "You know that?" She gestures to her sleeping brother. "I can see why he likes you."

I blush, but fortunately she can't see it. She sniffles as I say, "Well, it's nice talking to you. If I'm honest, I don't have very many friends."

"Oh," Amelia acts like the whole world has been explained to her the way she says it. "Now, I get why you are hanging out with us. Nothing is holding you back, huh? No friends... No boyfriend..."

"Right." I shrug, feeling a little pathetic for having nobody but this group of people I have met. "I mean, I had a few people I enjoyed talking to where I work, but I got fired."

"Ah. And what about your parents?" She questions.

"Well, you know the story about my dad," I tell her, and she stares blankly ahead. "Jerome left me and my mom and never returned, never sent a letter, and never said goodbye, really."

Amelia's eyebrows snap together. "He never said goodbye?"

"Nope." I close my eyes, willing my voice not to sound sad. I don't want to be sad about it. I shouldn't be. I'm a grown woman now. "As far as we knew, he was dead."

"Wow." Amelia says, sounding more astonished than anyone else I've told. "I can't believe it."

"Well, that's what happened." A little bit of anger tugs at my tone, but Amelia puts her hands up.

"I mean, I know you're not lying, but Jerome... Jerome is so kind. He's so..." Her voice trails off. She must feel the heat radiating off of me.

Everyone thinks the world of my father. They think he's the sweetest, kindest old man who would never hurt a soul. Someone who would put his heart on the line for everyone. But wouldn't a guy like that do the same for his daughter? Wouldn't he put his heart on the line a million times over for his daughter if he was the kindest man in the world?

Amelia clears her throat. "Let me tell you something about Jerome, and I don't want you to get angry with me, okay?"

I say nothing, and she continues. "Jerome helped my brother and I through our parents' divorce. He made sure we knew we were loved. He made sure of a lot of things that nobody else did for us. And, he helped the whole team. Every person. He pulled Drake out of hell, took Tony off the streets, and saved Felix and Ajax from a monster."

"And I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that he should've done that for you, been there for you, and I agree. He should've been there for you, but he couldn't." She tells me, and I don't answer because of how much acid my gut is filled with. "He... He told me why he had to leave you."

I open my mouth and immediately know it was a mistake. "I don't care. He should've said something, anything. He has no idea what he put me through."

"That's true. He doesn't have an idea of what it was like for you," Amelia's smooth voice calms my nerves only slightly. "Just hear me out. The day he left home and didn't return, he was tasked with a mission in Syria. His mission was to recover a CIA operative, who was actually his trainer in the CIA before then. He went without hesitation, wanting to save the old man who taught him almost all he knows, but when he got there, he had to go undercover."

"He was undercover for two months." Amelia continues, letting out a breath. "Two months in Syria, where the citizens and government were at a civil war, and also the Al-Qaeda and the Islamic State were there. Destruction and war were all he saw. And you know who he was thinking about?" I cringe really hard when she says it. "You."

My heart collides with my rib cage. I want her to continue, but I don't ask her to. She gets around to it after shifting her weight again and getting under her covers. She says, "And after those two months, he gathered enough intel to locate his old teacher."

She shakes her head. "Jerome found him dead in an abandoned home, atop a pile of ten other bodies."

My hand moves to my mouth. I can't imagine how it felt for him to go through that. My heart feels like it is going through the shredder as it tears into pieces.

"So, Jerome came back to the states with nothing but his passport and the shirt on his back. He didn't come back with his friend. He was alone." Amelia explains. "And you know what? He was ready to give up on the CIA. Ready to cave in and just go home to you and your mother."

"But, the CIA is his life, you see. It's... it's a part of him, a part of him he doesn't want to let go until he dies." She throws her hands up. "It's as simple as that."

"So, he just decided to never come home?" My voice is so small and not so angry any more. Just sad.

"Well, what was he supposed to say? Hi, honey. Hi, sweetie. I know I haven't seen you in three months, but that's because I was held up in Syria chasing down my ex-CIA trainer who I found dead." Amelia replies.

I bow my head. "A little, I'm sorry would've been nice. Or, he could've just sent an explanation like, Oh, and I'm never coming home because I love my job more than my own wife and daughter."

"Right." Amelia says slowly. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I know that he's done things for you throughout the years."

"Right." I repeat, rolling my eyes.

"He has!" Amelia exclaims as her eyebrows bounce. "I remember him mentioning a change of schools he helped you get, and a scholarship he basically gave you from out of his own bank account so you could get a degree."

What? Could that be right?

My mom tried for a whole year trying to transfer me from the high school I had to attend my freshman year because it was awful. The system was out of wack and had awful teachers. Plus, I had no friends, and schools near us had much more opportunities.

My mom was having difficulty switching schools, and then one day it just happened. Like, it happened overnight. In the blink of an eye. It was such a relief, and my mom and I just thought the school systems just got their ducks in order.

Maybe, it is true Jerome had some involvement. That would make sense.

And the scholarship thing kind of disappoints me. I mean, I am glad my father helped, or had the heart to think about me, but I thought I earned that money with my hard work and good grades.

"Well, I can't forgive him." I tell Amelia. "Maybe, if you were me, you'd be able to, but I can't. I can't just forgive him for all the years he wasn't by side. Why couldn't he have been there at my high school graduation, to help me move into my college dorm, to watch me be successful in my career..."

I pause, my voice becoming stronger. "And what about those nights I'd hear my mom crying, about to break, thinking she was never be enough?"

Amelia frowns. "I'm sorry."

"And there's a lot more that was lost besides all the pictures taken with his void in an empty space. My trust in him is gone." Tears spring to my eyes, and I let them fall. "And you know what? I didn't go to church, but I prayed every night for him to come home."

"That's part of the reason why I don't believe in God." I say with a shake of my head.

"I don't believe in Him either." Amelia relates with the twiddling of her thumbs. "Why should I? He took my girl away from me—the one person I loved with all of my heart. She... She had a lot of walls built up around her, and you know what I did? I tore them down. I searched for the good that I knew was hidden in her. I mean, the most precious diamonds are the hardest ones to find."

"And if there is a God, why did He take her away?" Amelia is crying now, too. "She didn't deserve that. She doesn't. She deserves to be in my arms right now."

I close my eyes so I don't have to see the pain in her expression. "One thing people can always relate to is pain, isn't it?"

She chuckles, tears streaming down her pristine cheeks. "Shit. Don't you wish that wasn't so?"

I nod, immediately realizing she can't see it. I mentally slap myself.

"You know what I wish?" I toss my hands up, letting out a deep breath. "That the world would be kinder. That's all."

"Then, I think I'd be out of a job." Amelia laughs bitterly.

"Me too." I grin. "And friends."

She chuckles in return, but once our humor fades, she and I are left to cry over our pain and loss. It's kind of nice sharing tears with someone. It's much nicer than sharing them with a blank wall.

**

"Good morning." I say to Ethan as soon as his eyes flutter open. His eyes are narrowed, his arms immediately lifting to his ears--where my hands are. I am currently dabbing cotton swabs at his ears because puss and fortunately only a little bit of blood is coming out. "Don't touch your ears. They're going to be sensitive for a couple of weeks."

He opens his mouth, his gray eyes glittering at mine, but he ends up remaining silent and merely nodding. I wipe up the remainder of the crap coming out of his ears, Ethan watching me intently.

As I'm silently hoping he can't see up my nose, I ask, "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah." He says, his eyebrows snapping together. "I sound weird."

"Yeah, everything is going to be out of whack for you until your ear drums heal." I inform him with a sympathetic grin. "Are they feeling better?"

"A whole lot better than yesterday." He tells me, and as I pull away, he casually sits up. "And that god-awful headache is gone."

"Good." Amelia says as she comes out of the bathroom, dressed in all leather. Her wavy brown hair brushes against her shoulders as she glides across the room. "I think I know where to find her."

"Where?" Ethan asks, cringing and lifting his hand up to his ear

I slap it, and his lips separate like he can't believe I would ever do a thing like that. I just throw a warning glance at him, pointing in his face like I'm his middle school math teacher.

"Well," Amelia continues as she walks toward the door. "Last night, I couldn't fall asleep, so I sifted through everything and found a picture. To my luck, there's a genius next door named Ajax who scanned the picture and found the exact location. The picture was taken at a cabin on the outskirts of town."

She opens the door, the light blinding both Ethan and I, and his voice immediately erupts in the air. "Hey, where are you going?"

Amelia hesitates, and then she steps back inside. "Uh... To the cabin."

"By yourself?" Ethan rises from the bed, and I follow his lead.

"Yeah... You guys have a flight to get to." She shrugs her shoulders. "And the whole reason you came was to give me a lead. And that mission has been fulfilled."

Ethan shakes his head. "I'm not letting you go by yourself. If she killed the last CIA agent who went after her, she is obviously dangerous."

"I can handle myself." She replies firmly. "But thanks."

Then, she exits and shuts the door right behind her.

Ethan curses and goes for the door. I remain still, not knowing what to do. I just bonded with Amelia and if I side with Ethan she might not like me anymore. And if I take Amelia's side, there's no telling how angry Ethan will be, especially with his motive being to protect his sister.

Fortunately, I don't have to choose which side I'm taking when the door opens and Amelia comes back through alongside Drake, Tony, Ajax, and Felix. The room is stuffed now as Amelia crosses her arms and says in a much angrier tone, "I've been up against countless murderers and have been fine. What's the big deal? A woman doesn't need testosterone to get her job done."

Tony and Ajax chuckle at this, Tony taking the lead on the argument. "We know this woman is no joke. We're coming along. And if you don't need our help, no harm, no foul. Okay?"

"Fine." She says with a little difficulty. "I know how stubborn you guys can be. There's no sense in arguing."

"Then, it's settled." Tony cheerfully clasps his hands together. "We're going to catch the bitch who killed your friend."

He says, "catch" in a lenient tone, and my heart wavers. My voice is small as I ask, "What do you do when you catch her?"

"To be honest," Amelia says with the shake of her head. "The criminals would rather die than get brought in."

"On the off chance that she comes peacefully," Felix tells me in a soft voice. "We'd take her back to the U.S."

"But, I doubt that will happen." Ajax brutally admits. "She'll fight us, and either she will die or we will, and you know which option sounds much more pleasant."

"Can't we take her?" My voice grows stronger. "There's seven of us. Can't all of our forces pin her down without having to murder her?"

There's an exchange of glances in the group of men that make my stomach boil. My eyebrows slant. "Are you guys telling me that you'd rather murder someone than take someone in and put in the extra work?"

Ajax shrugs, while Felix opens his mouth to defend himself. Drake just nods like he doesn't give a crap, and that's probably true. Tony looks like he's on my side with the stern yank of his eyebrows, and Ethan's expression is completely blank.

Amelia tells me, "You know what? I would if I could, but it's not that easy. The people we deal with aren't your regular perps. Half of them know how to break out of handcuffs and the other half know how to murder someone with handcuffs. Their lives are full of crime--they're not going to prison under any circumstances."

"I just think there are ways around it." I reply shortly.

"Well, come on inside, then." Amelia growls at me, anger filtering through her vowels. I take a weary step back. "When we go to catch this girl, come inside. See what she does. I'll even humor you and ask her to come in nicely. You see what she does."

Okay. Now, I've made her mad. I go to apologize, but she gestures to Ethan and says, "Get dressed. I'll be in the van."

Then, without another word, she leaves us alone after shutting the door firmly behind her.

I look to Ethan, but he moves toward the bathroom.

Is he angry, too?

My heart twists. Then, Felix says, "I'm going to run and get some breakfast. Anyone want to come?"

Please. "Is it okay if I go with you?"

"Yeah." His friendly voice floats in the air for a moment before both of us head on out.

**

We are dropped off by an Uber at McDonald's--it's cheap and not too far away from the motel. It's the place to be at, apparently, because the parking lot is full and half the restaurant's seats are taken up. People are in line to order, are waiting for their orders, and are munching along with friends. The place is nicer than any Mcdonald's I've been to. Their lights are bright, counters are spotless, and the workers have huge smiles on their faces.

It's weird, really.

I can't tell if I'd like to move here now, or never come back.

I order a breakfast burrito, yogurt, and a glass of orange juice. Felix pays for it, handing over cash for my meal and his own sausage egg biscuit, hash browns, and water. After a few minutes of waiting, our food arrives and we take a seat in the corner per Felix's request. He wants to be able to see all the entrances just in case.

Once we are sitting down, Felix gazes at me with his hazel and green eyes and says, "I understand why you wanted to argue earlier, with Amelia and all of us."

I take a sip of my orange juice and glance his way. He continues. "I don't know for sure or not if it was your place to argue, though."

Anger immediately sprouts in my chest, but Felix's smooth words override it. "I mean, I get it. You don't want us to be so destructive, and I get that. But, in our line of work, kill or be killed is how it normally ends. It's not like we enjoy killing people. That's not it. It's just... our job. We do it, so others don't have to feel the wrath of these criminals any more."

I don't say anything. Too many emotions are flooding my system--frustration, realization, worry. Nothing good comes from these feelings but a single flush of understanding. I recall that when Ethan and I were kidnapped, he killed the man who was about to touch me, and he didn't have a choice. It was as simple as that.

But, always? Does it always have to be that way? When does the good win?

"Okay." I say to Felix. "I just think we should at least try to save their lives before taking them."

"Fair enough." Felix nods, running a hand through his blonde hair and blue streak. "I think we normally try to be good people who do that."

I smile softly, thinking to myself, let's hope so.

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