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“Decided I didn’t have the stomach for it,” she says dryly. “Blood and guts churn it.”
I definitely don’t picture her as someone who could handle the shit I’ve seen if she has a weak stomach.
“Will you be able to text or call when you’re gone?” she asks hopefully.
“Definitely. I’ll probably text you from the chopper to apologize again.”
“Seriously, don’t apologize. Ever. You make a difference. I’d have to be a selfish bitch to expect you to be at my side when someone needs saving. Go be awesome and text when you can.”
I stop and lean against the wall of the stairwell, smiling at nothing.
“Have I told you lately that you’re perfect?”
She laughs then coughs to smother the laugh. “Trust me when I say I’m on the opposite end of the spectrum from perfection.”
“Oh? Will I see these flaws of yours one day?”
She grows quiet for so long that I check to make sure the line hasn’t gone dead. Finally, she answers.
“I pray that day never comes,” she says quietly. “Now go catch a bad guy. Is it safe to tell me the town so I can watch the news for you? I know you said you were sometimes on the news. If it’s against the rules, then don’t tell me, because I’d never ask you—”
“I’ll be in New York. I’m sure it’ll be on all the major channels if this pans out. It’s rare to get a break this big, but it could all be wrong. I’m going on a profile that I built myself just a few moments ago. For the record, I’m not supposed to tell anyone.”
“Then why did you tell me?” she scolds.
“Because I want you to be someone one day.”
I don’t tell her that I’ve thoroughly checked her out to make sure she wasn’t any type of lawbreaking heathen or anything. Best if this trust thing starts now.
“Well, someday, I hope I am someone. Until then, don’t tell me things you’re not supposed to.”
“Why?” I ask, amused that she’s so angry about this.
“Because I respect you. And I never want you to think I expect more than I should. This is about us. Not your job. Please. Promise me you won’t ever tell me things you’re not supposed to.”
Yeah… Told you she’s fucking perfect.
“Deal, pretty girl. Keep my boxers warm. I’ll text you or call you later.”
“Logan?”
“Yeah?”
“Come back in one piece no matter what you have to do in order to make that happen. That’s the only thing I’ll ever expect. Survive.”
A slow smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. “That I can promise.”
Chapter 10
Truth is what stands the test of experience.
—Albert Einstein
LANA
“You’re dating a fucking FBI agent?” Jake blares over the phone, and I groan, pulling it away from my ear as I park at the restaurant across the street from where Tyler is.
I’m starving, and we can’t get a visual inside this office, so I’ll stalk from here, since this is where he has reservations.
