Page 4 of The Deceptions
The place I fled from with my life barely intact.
Greenwood, California almost killed me.
My stomach sloshes, threatening to spill its contents onto the grass above my grave.How fitting to puke on my eternal resting place.
Hold yourself together. You don't know what he wants or expects. This anxiety could all be for nothing.
Yeah, right.
"I know," he says solemnly, digging into his pocket and retrieving something. He clicks the end of his flashlight and points it at the names, illuminating them. "I know I promised you that you'd never have to come back here. Even in the line of duty. You know I wouldn't have brought you back here unless it was important, Liv."
And there it is. The kicker. The case. He's about to rock my world and push me off my axis.
Fuck.
I lick my lips. Of course, he wouldn't harm me by bringing me here. Right? He's been in the line of duty under Veritas for years now, conducting investigations on the world's worst people who seem to slip through the cracks. In fact, every agent beneath him has the same job—going after the bad guys. We're the Dexters of the world, minus the serial killer part and tying people to metal tables with plastic. Although, my roommate Jordy might fit that part. He's a goddamn psycho. But with his background, that's easy to come by.
You see, the agents of Veritas are all connected by terrible pasts and deaths that didn't take. We're all ghosts in the eyes ofsociety, making us the perfect spies. No name. No face. We're no one.
Olivia Seven. Agent Seven.
The number at which I arrived on their doorstep.
My new name. New me.
"Has Franco finally gone off the rails?" I quip softly, internally cringing at the sound of his name rolling off my tongue after years of not saying it.
The ringleader. The master of the fucking gang that believes Greenwood, California is theirs to fuck with and manipulate.
And the mastermind behind my death.
Nathanial Franco. Scumbag extraordinaire. Gang leader. Hux, JJ, and Mack's foster father, who collects children to train and fill his ranks.
Also, Franco is my sperm donor’s former employer. I've been waiting to get my hands on him and show him what a knife in the back feels like. Maybe throw a little fire in there, too. He'd probably like that.
Those thoughts only cross my mind when I'm lying in bed and staring at the ceiling while plotting his demise. I’ve imagined his death a million times over at my hands.
Only, I never imagined I'd be back in his territory—a literal walking dead girl.
"The facts of the case are something we shouldn't discuss out in the open," Jonathan says, clicking his flashlight off and shoving it back into his pocket. “They're protected details no one but you, Agent One, and I will be privy to.”
"So thereisa case here." I swallow the information down, digesting it as his hand falls off my shoulder.
I almost fall over, blowing with the howling winds that whip through the multitude of large oak trees creaking from the pressure.
He just confirmed my suspicions with words. If there's a case here, then he needs me to be strong and level-headed.
Easier said than done.
A heavy sigh rocks through him. "I've rented us a suite at the Greenwood Grand Hotel downtown across the river."
I whip my head in his direction, but he holds up a hand when my mouth falls open, ready to retort. Driving here for the day is one thing, but staying through the weekend? That's a whole other story.
"You're in no danger, Liv. Remember, you're dead in his eyes.” He cruelly gestures to the darkened headstone etched with my old name. “You're here.” He flops a hand at my gravestone carelessly like it isn't a stab to my heart.
Yes. I'm dead in the eyes of everyone I've ever known. A ghost walking the streets with no true identity.
And maybe that's what kills me the most.
