Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99399 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
I knew Wolfe wanted to be seen as competent. Mature. Capable.
But if we were going to have any chance at a future together, he needed to see me, too. He needed to trust that my desire to protect him from hurt and danger didn’t mean I saw him as weak.
I needed him to trust me with his secrets.
And, I realized, I needed to trust him with mine.
Because there were things I’d been holding back, too. From Wolfe. From myself. From Derek and Jude.
My feelings for Wolfe, my homesickness for family… and the knowledge that Wolfe was Fletcher Coe.
I’d wanted Wolfe to come to me about it. To tell me on his own. But the longer I waited to share what I knew, the more it felt like a wedge between us.
So I’d tell him in the morning. Gently. When he was rested and his ankle felt better. When the threat to his safety stopped clawing up my throat and I could breathe again.
And I’d confess about going to see Jake, too, though he’d hate it.
I pulled into the campground and parked in my usual spot. My body was already craving the solid warmth of Wolfe tucked against my chest.
When I slid the door open, part of me worried he wouldn’t be in there. That he’d be missing again. Then I recognized his familiar shape under the duvet and let out a breath.
Wolfe was here. He was safe.
And if I had anything to say about it…
He was mine.
25
WOLFE
I came awake slowly, feeling the low throb in my ankle first. Memories of falling, of being cold and wet and alone, quickly followed.
When I reached back a hand and found Trace’s warm, solid body next to me, I let out a breath. Then I lay there and let my brain spin out in a million directions.
Trace. What would happen when we returned to our regular lives?
My job. What even was my regular life anymore? Did I want to keep working for the foundation? No. I knew at least that much now.
My parents. How the fuck would they react to the news that Trace and I were… well, we were something? Could I see myself sitting them down and calmly explaining that I was Fletcher Coe? No.
It had been two months of living in this van, and I felt like I was no closer to having answers for my life than the day I’d left Legacy.
But I did have a solution for the Jake situation.
As I came more awake, remnants of my dream faded. I’d been on the deck of my grandparents’ house in Legacy, laughing and drinking with my cousins. Gabe had been holding a Nintendo Switch in his hands and explaining how you could hypothetically use one to infiltrate the Indian Parliament.
I wasn’t sure what any of it meant, but I knew my brain had dreamed of Gabe for a reason.
As far as the world knew, my cousin was a game designer. A coding geek. But it was a poorly kept secret in the family that he could also hack into whatever the fuck he wanted and get away with nefarious acts.
I’d never asked him to do such a thing for me, and the guilt from it cratered in my stomach, but I knew he would have no issues whatsoever.
I scrambled for my phone, turned the backlight down as far as I could, and texted him with my idea. Except I realized I didn’t want to put the word “hack” on the record.
I need you to um… shit. Like, investigate someone?
I sent that part while trying to figure out how to tell him what I needed. He surprised me by answering right away.
Gabe
Sure thing. Who?
why are you awake rn?
Gabe
Stayed up gaming. Don’t judge.
I think a guy named Jake Mason has some photos of my journal that I need him not to have.
Gabe
Got it.
Could be on his sister Shay’s phone.
Gabe
Consider it handled.
I stared at the text chain and started typing another response.
You’ll let me know when—
Before I could send it, another one flashed up.
Gabe
Done. Anything else?
What? Done? Like… Done?
Gabe
Like all copies have been located and destroyed.
That… wasn’t possible.
I glanced over at Trace to make sure he was deep asleep and then hobbled out of the van to call Gabe, grateful the rain had stopped and the sun was barely beginning to light the sky.
“Hey, stranger,” he said, his slight Southern accent warm and familiar. “Am I gonna see you at Aunt Tilly’s bachelor party?”
“Oh fuck, I hope not,” I said without thinking. “What the hell is that?”
His easy chuckle made its way down the line. “She and the ladies are throwing a big matchmaking party for all of us. And by all of us, I mean you, too. Don’t think you can get out of it. Big gala-type dinner in San Fran in a few weeks. Her goal is to marry all of us off. I’m making Hunter come to it as my date to throw her off the scent.”