stare. “Even if you’re not the missing
girl, they believe you might be. So you’re still very much in danger.”
His words reverberated through her system, echoing the worry in her head. Bailey sat
back in her chair and blinked. Confusion, anxiety, horror—it all hovered just under
a blanket of smothering shock. Everything was coming at her so fast . . .
She jumped out of her chair and paced away, not caring that Joaquin stared after her.
She didn’t even want to think about how surreal all this was again. But that part
was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
Heels clicked across the floor. Bailey tensed just before someone laid a gentle hand
on her shoulder. She whirled to see Callie standing beside her.
“I know this is difficult. They’re so focused on the who, when, why, what, and how
to crush the danger that they forget we can be overwhelmed and scared.”
Bailey nodded. The woman appeared so collected. Not just that, but whole—both inside
and out. Looking at her, no one would ever guess that she’d run for her life for almost
ten years, that as a teenager she’d been hunted from state to state, identity to identity.
But Callie had overcome and found her future.
Whether she was Tatiana Aslanov or not, if anyone believed she was, they would hunt
her. She had to focus on that now. Hopefully, the rest would sort itself out.
Pressing her lips together to try to keep her composure, Bailey blinked away more
tears. “When you were running from these killers, did you ever have anything that
felt like a normal life?”
Callie opened her mouth, then closed it. She shook her head. “I’d love to make you
feel better, but I would rather prepare you for reality. No. I was always looking
over my shoulder.” With a squeeze of her arm, the woman went on. “We can hide you
here for a while. Sean, Thorpe, and Axel will move mountains to keep you safe.” She
glanced back at the three men, now in deep discussion about LOSS and how to keep them
off Bailey’s tail. “I think Joaquin would do the same and more.”
“I-I don’t even know him. We were ‘introduced’ when he stuck a needle in my neck to
drug me and bring me here.”
“He did it to keep you safe,” Callie pointed out. “That’s a tough way to meet, and
I’m sure it doesn’t inspire confidence. But if it makes you feel any better, the men
he knows, Logan and Hunter Edgington, they’re protectors through and through. They
saved my friend, London, from someone trying to kill her. They’re both former SEALs.
You don’t know them or me, but I swear if they have anything to do with Joaquin, then
you’re in no danger from that man. Besides, I see the way he looks at you . . .”
Bailey glanced past Callie and found Joaquin’s stare drilling into her. Protective.
Hot. Full of unspoken intent. As their gazes locked, it impacted her somewhere in
the middle of her chest, then boomed uncomfortably lower. Taking a breath got difficult.
As she fell into his green eyes, a wave of dizziness floated through her head.
She jerked her gaze free. God, she sounded like an idiot swooning over a good-looking
man. He was a dangerous stranger dragging her into dangerous crap.
“I’m focused on staying alive,” she told Callie. “But hearing that I might not be
who I believed . . . That’s a lot to accept.”
“Of course it is! My situation was different because I voluntarily changed identities,
but the result was the same. Lots of new towns, new lives, new . . . everything.”
Callie shrugged. “The important thing is stopping these guys so you can be you again,
whoever that ends up being.”
Digesting those words, Bailey chewed on her lip. Callie understood what she was going
through probably better than anyone else; she’d cut through all the emotion and gone
straight for the heart of the matter. She’d given what sounded like good advice.
“Yeah. Me.” Whoever
girl, they believe you might be. So you’re still very much in danger.”
His words reverberated through her system, echoing the worry in her head. Bailey sat
back in her chair and blinked. Confusion, anxiety, horror—it all hovered just under
a blanket of smothering shock. Everything was coming at her so fast . . .
She jumped out of her chair and paced away, not caring that Joaquin stared after her.
She didn’t even want to think about how surreal all this was again. But that part
was becoming harder and harder to ignore.
Heels clicked across the floor. Bailey tensed just before someone laid a gentle hand
on her shoulder. She whirled to see Callie standing beside her.
“I know this is difficult. They’re so focused on the who, when, why, what, and how
to crush the danger that they forget we can be overwhelmed and scared.”
Bailey nodded. The woman appeared so collected. Not just that, but whole—both inside
and out. Looking at her, no one would ever guess that she’d run for her life for almost
ten years, that as a teenager she’d been hunted from state to state, identity to identity.
But Callie had overcome and found her future.
Whether she was Tatiana Aslanov or not, if anyone believed she was, they would hunt
her. She had to focus on that now. Hopefully, the rest would sort itself out.
Pressing her lips together to try to keep her composure, Bailey blinked away more
tears. “When you were running from these killers, did you ever have anything that
felt like a normal life?”
Callie opened her mouth, then closed it. She shook her head. “I’d love to make you
feel better, but I would rather prepare you for reality. No. I was always looking
over my shoulder.” With a squeeze of her arm, the woman went on. “We can hide you
here for a while. Sean, Thorpe, and Axel will move mountains to keep you safe.” She
glanced back at the three men, now in deep discussion about LOSS and how to keep them
off Bailey’s tail. “I think Joaquin would do the same and more.”
“I-I don’t even know him. We were ‘introduced’ when he stuck a needle in my neck to
drug me and bring me here.”
“He did it to keep you safe,” Callie pointed out. “That’s a tough way to meet, and
I’m sure it doesn’t inspire confidence. But if it makes you feel any better, the men
he knows, Logan and Hunter Edgington, they’re protectors through and through. They
saved my friend, London, from someone trying to kill her. They’re both former SEALs.
You don’t know them or me, but I swear if they have anything to do with Joaquin, then
you’re in no danger from that man. Besides, I see the way he looks at you . . .”
Bailey glanced past Callie and found Joaquin’s stare drilling into her. Protective.
Hot. Full of unspoken intent. As their gazes locked, it impacted her somewhere in
the middle of her chest, then boomed uncomfortably lower. Taking a breath got difficult.
As she fell into his green eyes, a wave of dizziness floated through her head.
She jerked her gaze free. God, she sounded like an idiot swooning over a good-looking
man. He was a dangerous stranger dragging her into dangerous crap.
“I’m focused on staying alive,” she told Callie. “But hearing that I might not be
who I believed . . . That’s a lot to accept.”
“Of course it is! My situation was different because I voluntarily changed identities,
but the result was the same. Lots of new towns, new lives, new . . . everything.”
Callie shrugged. “The important thing is stopping these guys so you can be you again,
whoever that ends up being.”
Digesting those words, Bailey chewed on her lip. Callie understood what she was going
through probably better than anyone else; she’d cut through all the emotion and gone
straight for the heart of the matter. She’d given what sounded like good advice.
“Yeah. Me.” Whoever
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