“Behave yourself, Girl.”
CHAPTER 50
Hans
I flex my jaw as I watch Cassandra walk through the glass doors into the airport.
I want so badly to grab her and haul her back into my truck. But I don’t do that. Instead, I climb behind the wheel.
Cassandra has already disappeared out of view when I merge into the lanes of slowly moving cars leaving after dropping their passengers off.
I follow the traffic out of the departures area.
I keep my speed steady with everyone else.
I stay in the far lane as we all head toward the airport exit.
I flip on my blinker.
I follow the sign directing traffic that wants to return to terminal.
I follow the looping road until I join the cars heading into the airport again.
But instead of taking the lane for departures, I follow the signs for parking.
The ramps are crowded, but I find a spot between two other pickup trucks.
After turning the engine off, I unbuckle, then twist around and press a hidden button behind my seat.
The rear bench seat silently unlocks, and with minimal effort, the whole seat lifts on a hinge to reveal a compartment within.
I drag my nondescript black backpack out, then reach for my folded suit jacket.
I wait until I’m out of the truck to shake out my jacket and put it on.
Black leather boots, dark jeans, gray T-shirt, black suit jacket, and boring black backpack. I look like every other upper management douchebag heading out for a week of sales meetings.
Making it super easy to blend in at the airport.
No one questions me.
No one even looks twice at a man flying with just a backpack. Seasoned travelers have their packing down to a science.
Three changes of clothes.
Minimal toiletries.
A laptop containing four throwing knives.
A passport and airplane ticket for a man whose name isn’t Hans Eklund but who looks just like me. And who has TSA PreCheck, so I, or whoever this man is, don’t even have to take off my shoes to go through security.
Picking my backpack up after its uneventful trip through the X-ray machine, I make a stop in the first shop I see.
Since I purchased my ticket last night, I don’t have much of a game plan for when I get where we’re going. At least, no real plan beyond follow Cassandra.
I grab four bags of beef jerky, a bag of peanuts, bottle of water, two packs of Skittles, and a magazine about cars that will either work as a cover or as a fire starter. Whatever turns out to be more useful.
CHAPTER 51
Cassie
The pilot hits the gas, or whatever it’s called in a plane, and we start to speed down the runway.
I know the jostling is normal, but I still hate it.
Rather than turning my head to look out the window at my side, I close my eyes and think about Hans and that kiss we shared.
We might not be people who kiss when they see each other, but it turns out we’re people who kiss when they part ways.
Hans would’ve made it back home already. I wonder if he went back to sleep or if he stayed up to start his own workday.
CHAPTER 52
Hans
My plane taxis into position, our pilot letting us know we’re next to take off.
I pull my hair free from its tie and lean my head back against the seat, closing my eyes.
My conversation with the Cantrells fresh in my mind, I think back about how this all started.
CHAPTER 53
Hans
（AGE 19）
“You really think that’s gonna work?”
My sister rolls her eyes at me. “It’s a dance club. It’s not like I’m trying to get into the CIA.”
“Why not just go to an eighteen-plus place?” She turned eighteen last month, a few days after graduating, so she could get into those with her actual ID.
“Because those places are fucking lame. You’d know that if you ever came out with me.”
“No thanks.”
I don’t have time for partying. I’m too busy taking summer classes so I can graduate earlier than the rest of my classmates and get started on the life I want.
“Nerd,” she sighs, but I know she doesn’t mean it.
“It doesn’t even look like you.” I hold up the driver’s license.
Freya twirls, her short silver dress flaring out, her blond hair shiny around her shoulders. “They aren’t gonna look that close.”
“Mom and Dad will kill you if they find out.” I state the obvious.
“Which is why I’m going to tell them I’m staying at Kay’s house tonight.” She snatches the ID out of my hand and tucks it into her handbag. “And I am.” She sets the bag on her dresser, then snags a pair of sweatpants off the floor and pulls them on, the baggy material covering the skirt of her dress. “We’re just going out first.” She tugs her favorite T-shirt on next, the tie-dye pattern forming a flower across her chest.