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“They’re ten minutes out.” I squeal with excitement, eager to meet Rosalie. Carmen’s told us so much about her that I feel like we’re already the best of friends.
“Crap, they’re early.” Barbi glances at her watch.
“So?” I shrug because it doesn’t matter.
Only Barbi is far more OCD than me.
“We haven’t moved your things out of your room.” She hops up from the couch and claps her hands. “Come on, your things won’t pack themselves.”
It’s been only a couple of weeks since graduation, but it feels as if it’s been a lifetime. The day Carmen, Barbi, and I graduated from UCSF, we were headed out for an amazing night on the town. Only, Carmen’s father sent his goons to escort her home to Nicaragua. Which left Barbi and me to celebrate alone.
And boy, did we party.
We had a fabulous night.
Carmen, however, entered what can only be described as a living hell. Her father basically kidnapped her and held her hostage. He arranged a loveless marriage to a tyrant of a man, and Carmen had no way out.
At least until a group called the Guardian Hostage Rescue Specialists came into the picture. They were rescuing a woman named Isabelle LaCroix, and Carmen hijacked that rescue.
Suffice it to say, Carmen went back to her father. Which sounds bad. But she did it as part of a plan by the Guardians to free the women her father was trafficking. She acted as a cool, super-secret double agent. Part of that rescue, something she insisted on, included freeing her childhood friend, Rosalie.
Only things didn’t go as planned.
Carmen spent the better half of a week beside herself with worry over Rosalie’s safety while the Guardians launched another rescue mission to get Rosalie back.
That was a few days ago.
Now Rosalie’s moving in with us. She’s finally here, and I couldn’t be more excited.
The day Carmen called to tell us Rosalie was safe, a great weight lifted off my shoulders. I’m thrilled we’re here for Carmen to not only celebrate her reunion with Rosalie but to welcome her into our little girl-gang.
But even with the great news, this thing with Scott hangs over me. I have to find a way to deal with my ex-boyfriend, and former professor, and the way he’s trying to manipulate me. I take one last look at the phone before shutting it off, then slide it into my back pocket.
Barbi’s right. I need to find another way to deal with Scott.
Somehow, I’ll figure it out. Until then, I follow Barbi into what used to be my room and begin packing up my things.
Since I’m moving to UC Davis as soon as the fall semester begins, I don’t technically need my room in our little townhouse. Barbi and I are going to share her room for the summer. Then, I’ll move to a small studio apartment at Davis.
As for Rosalie, she literally has nothing. She escaped Nicaragua with nothing but the clothes on her back. We’re hoping UCSF will accept her into their undergraduate program. Carmen says she knows people with pull who can make that happen. Which means Rosalie needs a place to stay. I’m happy to give her my room.
I guess we’ll see.
In the meantime, Barbi and I rush around my room like two lunatics, throwing clothes in suitcases and cardboard boxes. We drag those from my room upstairs into Barbi’s room downstairs. We make a total mess of things and are nowhere near done when Carmen’s text comes in that they’re almost here.
Barbi and I sprint down the stairs and fly out the front door to wait outside.
“Do you see them?” I lift on tiptoe, peering down the street.
“Do you think it’s just the two of them?” She ignores my little dig. “Or do you think they brought some Guardian muscle to help?”
“Get your mind out of the gutter.” I know exactly what’s going through Barbi’s head.
Over the past week, when Carmen was going out of her mind, worried about Rosalie, her new beau, Rafe, who is a Guardian, spent several nights with us. If the other Guardians look anything like him…
“Tell me you’re not eager to lay eyes on one of those Guardians.” Barbi jabs me in the ribs. “Sexy Navy SEALs? Hot as sin Hostage Rescue Specialists? Gorgeous Guardians? Lord, that word alone is enough to make a girl swoon. And you know they’re all like Rafe. Tall, handsome, and packed with muscle upon muscle upon muscle.”
“Dang, girl, you need to get laid.” I shove her playfully.
