Twist (3 page)

“Lucas Drake, tell me something nobody knows,” I insisted.

His
eyes rolled up, as if he was searching his brain for a trinket of information. “I can't tell you everything. But I can tell you that I'm a horrible sleeper. I stay up late and wake up early. I'm addicted to a news show called
Greed
, and I think I snore.”

“You don't know if you snore?”

“No.”

“Well, why don't you test it?”

“Because I don't care if I snore.”

I laughed. “I think I get it.”

“Get what?”

“You!” I said.

“Your turn.” He leaned into me and touched the tip of my nose with his own. “Fess up! What's your biggest secret?”

“Well, that's different than things people don't know about me.”

“How so?” he asked.

“Because it's a secret, and I can't share that yet,” I teased.

“I bet this happens to you a lot.” He looked out at the rolling waves, but he had a big smile on his face.

“What happens to me a lot?”

“Boys liking you. There's something about you, Bea. I know I said it before, but it's true.”

I grabbed his face, turned him to me, and we kissed. He stroked my cheeks with his warm hands and his lips tickled my neck. Tingles zipped through my stomach and shimmied across my skin. “I've never done this,” I said breathlessly.

“
Done what?” he mumbled as he kissed my earlobe and all over my face. After some awkward shuffling, he pulled me into the backseat on top of him.

“We just met,” I said.

“I know,” he responded. “I'm crazy about you, Bea.”

“You don't know me,” I said as he pulled my jacket and then my T-shirts off and lightly touched my skin. My entire body got goose bumps, even on the inside!

But suddenly, he stopped, and his eyes met mine. “I feel like I've known you forever. How can that be?”

“Something you say to all your girls . . .” I answered in a playful way, though it was hard to keep my voice steady.

“No, this is like a force. Beatrice Malcolm, force of
one
!”

I put my face into his neck and he put his arms around me. I didn't want this moment to end. I'd never felt more alive in my life. Together we pulled his shirt off, bumping against the window and front seat. But once my bare body touched his warm chest, the cells across my skin ignited and my heart sang.

I was so swept up in being near Luke and the wonderment of his touch, that I closed my eyes and felt my body moving in unison with his. When we melded together as one it hurt for a few seconds so I clung to him closer than I'd ever been to anyone. Once the pain faded, a thousand fireflies fluttered from the center of my being and spiraled throughout my body. I felt as if I were releasing this incredible feeling to Luke through our connection that went far beyond the physical sensation of the moment. Then our fleshly appetites grew with such intensity that I didn't realize we'd moved to a position
where
my face and breasts were mashed up against the window until we were finished. I was grateful no one was around.

Luke squeezed me as if he'd never let me go and held me gently in his lap. Lightly running his hands up and down my body

But what had gotten into me?
I'd never even gone past first base before and here I was making love to a boy I'd just met.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I didn't want to open my mouth and answer for fear this would never happen again. “You're my firs—”

“Shh.” He put his finger on my lips. “I know. It's okay. You were wonderful.”

“You seem so experienced for a high school boy . . .” I couldn't
believe
what I'd just done with a guy I barely knew. “I've never experienced anything like that in my life.”

“Well, it can be our little secret,” he said.

My mood shifted to what I'd begun to call my “dark cloud” moments. I was having one.

Had he just manipulated me? Was he ever going to talk to me again? Or would I just be his booty call?
No dating. No getting to know you—nothing. This wasn't love at first sight. I let him have his way with me, and yet I was an active participant! I pulled away from him and began sifting through our clothes. Within minutes, we were sitting in the backseat, fully dressed. When he put his arm around me, I leaned away.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing. We should just get back to school. We'll be late.”

“
Late for what? We're not going back, remember?” He rubbed my shoulders and leaned over to kiss me. I turned my head. “What's wrong?” he asked again.

“I'm thinking we did this backward. Shouldn't we . . . date or something?”

“Come here.” Luke held me close. “That was beautiful. Beatrice Malcolm, don't
get distant
on me now!” He tried to tickle me. “No pouting in my car.”

“Your car?” I chuckled.

“See, you're in there, I knew it. Come back to me, little Bea. Where are you?” he asked in a goofy voice. And once he made me laugh, I felt better. We got out of the car and walked on the sand near the edge of the water, daring the waves to move closer.

“You make me feel so alive,” he said.

And I responded by grabbing his hand. We spoke very little, but my mind was whirling—a dark blizzard of thoughts. Eventually, he led us toward the parking lot, and he kissed me as he opened the car door.

I wasn't sure if I'd see Luke again, and then gradually,
not
seeing him became my desire. I didn't want to see Lucas Drake
ever
again. My dark swinging mood tree was on a rampage. I was grateful when we delivered the car to Simon at precisely 3:10 p.m. and Uncle George showed up—out of nowhere—to give me a ride home.

Luke hugged me when we said good-bye and I hardly responded—just a light pat on his back. I didn't even wave as I got into Uncle George's car and we drove away.

Chapter
5

I tried my best to forget about what I'd just done with Luke and how rude I had been when I left him standing on the curb. But my focus switched to Uncle George. He'd never picked me up at school. How odd that he chose that moment to show up?

“You don't have to watch over me,” I said.

Uncle George didn't say anything as he drove. We'd been on the road a while when I realized we were in a neighborhood I'd never seen before.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“I have to run a quick errand.”

I could tell he didn't want to talk. His lips were closed in a tight line and he shifted his eyes around. So I played with the radio and tried to relax. I thought maybe Luke did want to be my boyfriend . . . Maybe I should have been nicer to him.

When we merged onto the highway, Uncle George looked even more stressed, but he drove on without saying a word. And then after what felt like an eternity, he parked in front of a dumpy diner. “Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“I need a cup of coffee. C'mon.”

He found a table in the corner and ordered a slice of pie with his java. When the server left, he whispered, “Go down that hall toward the restroom. Don't question me, just do it.” He sat back and then tilted his head in that direction. “Now,” he said, with an air of finality.

I
opened my mouth, but before I could ask him for a reason, he shook his head
no
and glared at me. The inside of my skull felt as though it were being raked. He'd never remotely acted this way before. So I headed in the direction Uncle George told me to go. I tapped on the door to the women's room, and then I heard a whistle from outside the back door. My heart nearly stopped when a man wearing a hoodie popped his head into the restaurant.

“Dad?”

“Shh.” My father put his finger up to his lips.

I hugged him and cried. Then in one swift move, he pushed me away, holding me at arm's length and looking at me as if I might evaporate. He pointed toward a black SUV behind the diner, grabbed hold of my hand, and led me outside. We jumped in the back and the car immediately jerked forward, toppling us into each other. Dad reacted quicker than me when he pulled the seatbelt around my body and snapped it in place.

The guy in the front passenger seat held a phone up to his ear. “All clear. Package delivered, we're out.” Then he snapped the phone shut and turned to my Dad. “Ted, flawless extraction.”

Dad gestured with his head and a window between the driver's seat and the backseat slowly rose, leaving the two of us in privacy. I hadn't seen him for months. Where he'd once had a dusting of gray, his whole head now was covered with it. I was about to say something about the short beard and nicely trimmed mustache when he pulled the fake hair off of his face!

“We don't have much time,” he said. He threw off his hoodie and revealed a black suit jacket and tie. “Before I leave, I want to talk to you about Lucas Drake.”

“
What?”

Luke was the last thing I thought my dad would even know about. “Dad, where have you been? And what's going on with the FBI? And this disguise, you—”

“I'm being sought by every law enforcement agency in the country, but I can't explain it all in the few minutes we have.” He took hold of my hands.

“What are you talking about? Just take me with you,” I said.

“It's far too dangerous. You're safer with George and Charlotte.” He tapped on the window and the guy in the front tapped back.

“What's going on, Dad?” I heard a shrill tone in my voice that didn't sound like me.

“When your mom got sick, I couldn't just let her die. I made a deal with the government.”

“What? What kind of deal?”

The window slid down a fraction and the passenger-seat man said, “Two minutes out.” Then the window went up again.

“What does the government have to do with Mom's sickness?” I asked.

He sighed. “Let's just say they withheld access to a potential cure.”

“You don't make sense.” I felt tears coming. “You didn't even go to her funeral. You're a criminal!” I shrieked. “Why didn't you just steal the cure?”

“That's what they claim I did.” He clamped his fists together in his lap.

The vehicle came to a stop in a rural area. Dad said, “This kid who claims to be Lucas Drake. What do you know about him?”

“What does he have to do with this?” I asked.

Dad
frowned.

“Dad, you have to tell me more!”

“I'm not sure if he has anything to do with this. I don't like him being near my little girl.”

“Are you watching me?” My heart fell to my toes, and a splatter of bright red mortification lit up my body. “You're putting yourself in jeopardy because I like a boy?”

“No, I did what I did to save your mother, and that's all I can tell you right now.” He put his face in his hands and mumbled. “I need to keep you safe.”

“Dad, I don't understand a word you're saying. I want to go with you.”

“I'm a patriot . . . I was a patriot,” he said.

“You're talking in circles.”

“Stay away from Lucas Drake . . . and all boys, for a while.”

“What if I like Luke?”

“One more reason to stay away from him.” Dad opened the door just as a helicopter landed in the field adjacent to the road. I pulled him back into the car.

“What is all this? Dad, who are you?”

“Bea, I promise you're better off with George and Charlotte, and you'll hear from me real soon. Just keep a distance from this boy, until I can fix this.” He kissed me on the cheek and then ran toward the helicopter.

The window between the seats opened all the way and the man in the passenger seat handed me an old-fashioned tape recorder. “Give this to the FBI when they arrive. It's a recording of this conversation—for proof that you were taken against your will and
not
complicit. Also, your Uncle George called the police and told them you were kidnapped. Follow that story and you'll be fine. Be smart.”

The driver and the guy in the front passenger seat followed Dad to the helicopter. A big gust of wind swirled around and blew dirt into the SUV as they flew off.

I shuddered.

What in the hell was going on? Wasn't it enough that Mom was dead?

I walked toward the highway, sobbing. Within a few minutes, a black SUV that looked exactly like the one Dad and his friends were driving and several police cars surrounded me.

Chapter
6

Two of the vehicles slowed and some men in suits and FBI vests jumped out, followed by a woman. Tires screeched as the line of cars sped off in the direction I'd just come from, leaving those three agents with me.

“Beatrice Malcolm?” a man asked.

I wiped the tears off of my cheeks and nodded.

“Are you hurt?” the woman said as she approached.

The two men moved to the side, scanning the area, just like the men who protect the president do.

Snot ran down my face and my lips blubbered when I inhaled. The woman handed me a tissue. She put her hand on my shoulder. “Did they touch you?”

“No,” I said.

My joints ached. I was hanging on to that tape recorder so tightly that when she pried it from my hands, I felt my shoulders relax.

One of the men said something into his sleeve and suddenly the SUV was by our side. The female agent led me to the backseat and we were whisked away.

“My name is Special Agent Carter,” she said.

I dabbed at my nose and snickered.

“What's so funny, Bea?”

“‘Special.' It's a weird first name.”

She scowled and then said, “Sherilynn.”

I
looked out the window and tried to ignore her.