Gia Cribbs - The Disappearance Of Sloane Sullivan

Livie launched into a story about some elaborate revenge Oliver’s ex got on the last girl to hit on him, but I wasn’t listening. I unfolded the piece of paper in my hands. Under his address, Jason had written two sentences: Bet you Sawyer uses at least five inappropriate pickup lines on you while you’re at my house. Loser has to teach him the meaning of moderation?

I smiled. Oliver definitely didn’t have anything on Jason.

Four

The back screen door slammed shut behind me. “Mark?”

“In here, Kid.”

I smiled at the nickname and followed his voice to the family room of our rental house. It was smaller and a little more run-down than some of the other places we’d lived in, but it had the beachy feel of home. Mark was sprawled on the blue couch, legs propped up on the square glass coffee table next to a pile of mail.

“Did you hear about this one?” he asked, shaking his head at his laptop. “Nineteen-year-old broke into a condo, stole a bunch of electronics, including a cell phone, and left his own phone sitting on the condo’s kitchen table .”

I snorted.

“Wait! There’s more. When he realized what he did about an hour later, he called his phone. The condo’s owner, who had since come home and realized she’d been burglarized, answered and he gave her his name and asked if he could have his phone back.” Mark grinned widely. “The cops arrested him half an hour later.”

I plopped on the couch next to him. “Amateur.”

“Seriously. What’s happening to criminals these days?”

I watched Mark laugh as he set his laptop aside. I’d always been amazed at how much older or younger he could look with a few little changes. When he let his hair grow longer and was clean-shaven, he could easily pass as someone in his early twenties. But when he looked like he did now, with a shorter haircut and a few days’ worth of facial hair, he seemed fifteen years older. It was a skill that let him pose as a wide variety of men in my life, from father to uncle to older brother. Which was funny, because he’d never felt like an actual father or uncle or older brother, not even when I was younger. He’d always been more like the older brother’s best friend you see in the movies, the one who’s always around, teasing and annoying you, but who’ll beat up the guy who’s mean to you at school without blinking an eye. The one you choose to count as family. That’s Mark.

“What?” he asked, realizing I was staring.

“Just admiring my old man.” I ruffled his hair, which was its natural medium brown color. The only thing about him that wasn’t natural were the contacts that turned his brown eyes hazel. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you look so distinguished.”

“Shut up,” he muttered with a laugh as he smoothed out his hair. “So how was the first day?”

I studied my feet resting next to his on the coffee table. “The usual. Nothing exciting.” Guilt flared red hot in my chest.

I’d only ever lied to him once before, and even that was more of an omission of a detail than a full-blown lie. The desire to tell him about Jason was stronger than I’d been expecting. Mark was my person , the one I could tell anything to, the only one who’d always been there for me. Lying to him sucked.

Then I remembered why I wasn’t telling him the truth. No one had ever been officially released from WITSEC before. Once you’re in, you’re in for life. But I was special. A “one-of-a-kind situation,” Mark had said when we started planning Sloane and Mark Sullivan. But if the Marshals knew I’d been seen by someone from my past? Who knows how long it would be before they thought it was safe enough again to let me out.

Mark bumped my shoulder, trying to get my attention. “Any stalkers?”

My heart fluttered as I smiled. It sounded like a joke, but he was serious. I hadn’t been smart about someone once before, and I’d promised to never make that mistake again. “No. I did get forced into a group of overly friendly people though.”

He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “I’m so proud of my little girl, making friends on her first day.”

I whacked him on the arm. “I’m actually about to head over to one of their houses in a few minutes.”

His smile faltered. “Going to someone’s house already? Is that a good idea?”

“They gave me a First Day Buddy.”

“Oh.” It came out like a laugh, like he knew how much it would annoy me.

“Exactly. There’s this senior scavenger hunt thing tomorrow, and I’m on her team and I have to help with something for it. But don’t worry, I won’t stay long. Wouldn’t want to come home late and disturb your beauty sleep, not with the new job starting tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes. The rigorous demands of a college maintenance man require much rest.”

“Don’t make fun of your fake profession. It’s served us well.”

“That’s true,” he agreed, stretching his arms above his head. “Who knew there were so many colleges and universities across this great land of ours? Plus, I never feel guilty when we skip out without giving notice.” He stood, scattering a few pieces of junk mail to the floor.

I crumpled an ad into a ball and threw it into the middle of the small trash can across the room. “Ha!”

Mark chuckled. “Are you going to be back for dinner? I’m making fettuccine alfredo.”

I followed him into the kitchen, groaning with pleasure the whole way. “I would never miss your fettuccine. It’s one of your best dishes.”

“Well, at least not having any friends has paid off. I don’t have to answer their nosey questions, and I’ve had all this free time to master my cooking skills.”

I frowned. I knew he’d given up everything for me. I wondered, not for the first time, whether he regretted it. “We have each other for a friend. Who needs anyone else?”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly as he studied me. Something I didn’t recognize flashed in his eyes.

I pursed my lips. “You know I appreciate everything you do for me, right? Including making fabulous food.”

Mark dropped his eyes. “I know.” He was quiet for a moment. “I like doing things for you.” He patted his ridiculously toned stomach. “ I certainly don’t need the extra calories.”

“Please,” I scoffed. “Like you have an inch of fat on you.”

“I do!” He looked up, eyes bright. “We’ve been slacking on lesson number eleven lately.”

I placed my hands flat against the small kitchen island and glared at him. “We have not been slacking on our long distance running! And I’ve played many a basketball game with you shirtless recently, and you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

He flashed a grin, the one where the right side of his mouth rose more than the left. It was the grin he used when he was giving me a hard time, and guilt spread through my chest again.

I intertwined my fingers and examined the lines across one of my palms, tracing them with my thumb. “So apparently there’s a senior trip coming up.”

Mark had his head buried in the refrigerator. “Like a beach trip after graduation? Do seniors still do that?”

“No, like a chaperoned overnight field trip to Charleston the last weekend in April. It sounds like all the seniors go. It’s a school tradition.”

The sounds of his rummaging stopped. “I don’t know.” There was a long pause before he spoke again. “What if something goes wrong? What about your eyes?”

“I can keep my contacts in. It’s just one night.” I continued to study my palm, afraid of looking at him when I said what I’d been rehearsing all afternoon in my head. “Plus, I was kind of thinking this placement could be like a test. Once I’m out, I’m going to have to deal with things myself. It might be good to get some practice making my own decisions while you’re still around to back me up. And I think I want to go.”