He grows fidgety. “What’s the final request?”

I inhale and exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Because that’s all I can do.

“I want to see Ryler before I go to wherever you’re sending me. I want to say goodbye.” And I want to say I’m sorry for being who I am. He was the good guy all along, yet I treated him as if he were as wicked as me.

I rub my hand over my tender chest. It hurts thinking about leaving him behind, when it feels like we’re just starting. In the end, I know I have to go to get my beginning, to get a chance at ever having a normal life.

The detective considers my offer for a small amount of time before standing to his feet. He holds up a finger as he fishes his phone from his pocket again and dials a number. He wanders toward the door with the receiver pressed to his ear.

I begin to grow worried about who he’s calling and wish I had a better grasp on reality so I could know, know that all of this is real. That soon, I could finally, finally be free. Sure, I’ll be someone else, with a different name. I might even have to cut my hair. Honestly, I’m perfectly okay shedding my so-called perfection.

I can hear the detective murmuring something, so I scoot to the foot of the bed and listen. It sounds like he’s repeating my offer to someone. God, I hope that someone is another agent and not my father. I hope I haven’t been tricked. I hope this isn’t another part of my punishment for telling Ryler.

A minute later, the agent returns to the room with a pleased smile on his face. “Emery, you have yourself a deal. Ryler is on his way and all your requests will be taken care of as soon as we have the location of the warehouse.”

He waits for me to spill the biggest, most dangerous secret I ever will. My lips part to utter the name of the town, but the word weighs in my throat.

“Can I have a pen and a piece of paper?” I ask.

He nods and collects a pen and notebook from the drawer of the nightstand and hands them to me. I press the tip of the pen to the paper and my hand moves, betraying my father, my mother, all I ever knew.

Ralingford is the town you’re looking for. That’s where the warehouse is.

The pen falls from my hands, and finally, for the first time ever, I taste it.

Freedom.

Chapter 18

A Life-Altering Choice.

Ryler

I’m in deep shit. That was made clear the moment three of Detective Stale’s cop buddies came barging into my apartment. They woke up Violet and Luke and gave me about two minutes to explain what the fuck was going on, why I texted Stale, saying I was about to tell Emery and run.

“I’m sorry,” I signed to a horrified Luke while Greg, the taller, sturdier of Stale’s cop friends urged me to get my ass out the door. Jay, the shortest of the group, had Emery in his arms, because I refused to go anywhere without her.

“Sorry for what?” Luke blinked his eyes and scanned the three men standing in our narrow, somewhat messy living room. “What the fuck is going on, man?”

Violet walked up behind him, her hair a mess, her eyes bloodshot from sleepiness. “Holy shit, what’s going on?”

I debated lying to them since it was what I was supposed to do, but I had already fucked up my informant position big time the moment I sent Stale that text. Already in balls deep, I decided to just tell them everything I could.

“I’ve been working as an informant since before I ever moved here. In exchange for my help with the police, my criminal record was going to be wiped,” I sign with urgency. “Tonight I’ve pretty much made a choice that I was going to quit.”

Luke’s gaze roams to Emery, unconscious, her head slumped back in Jay’s arms. “What happened to her?”

“Well, to make a long story short, I was helping bring Emery’s father down, and this was his way of punishing her for telling me his secrets.” My hands were moving so fervently I’m not even sure they could interpret what I was saying. They must have understood enough, though, because both of their expressions plummeted.

Violet shuffled forward, tugging at the bottom of her worn T-shirt. “What’s going to happen to you?”

I shrugged, glancing back at Greg. “I have no idea.”

“Are you… are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know.”

Luke stepped toward me. “Tell us what you need, man. How can we help?”

I shook my head and shrugged. “You can’t. And I might not be coming back, but just know everything will be okay. And thanks for everything.”

“Ryler.” Violet stepped toward me with her arm stretched out.

That was when Greg intervened. “We need to go. Now.”

He gave me a little push, and I stumbled toward the door, shooting Luke and Violet an apologetic look, knowing there was a chance I wasn’t going to see them again.

I spend the next three days in and out of the police station, being locked up in a motel room, and getting probed with questions, watching countless television shows and movies, and eating out of a vending machine. On day two, Stale reams into me, telling me how much I fucked up. I let him rattle on and on, even though I didn’t fully agree with him. When I made my choice that I was going to tell Emery, it was a decision I felt good about.

Problem is, I haven’t seen her since Detective Stale’s friends dragged us out of my apartment.

“Where’s Emery?” I ask Stale on day three after he enters my motel room with a kind of shocked expression on his face. “And when the fuck am I going to be let out of here? Or am I not leaving?”