Love at First Fight - A Gallagher Girls Story

Chapter Twenty-Nine

There had been a time when my fear of heights had been the biggest fear I had. It seemed so silly now, looking back. Maybe there had been a time when that fear had been valid—when it was acceptable for twisted trees to make up the very worst of my nightmares. Maybe there had been a time when heights were as bad as it got for me.

I had different fears these days. Bigger fears. Fears that made falling out of trees sound like the preferable option. I had fears that my mother would leave again—fears that I would have to one day watch my brother die right before my eyes. As I laid in bed every night, waiting for sleep, I lingered on my fears of waking up, praying that the morning didn't bring news of another person dead or worse, that it didn't bring a panic attack. I had big fears now—grown up fears, maybe—but the worst of them didn't include death or panic. The worst of them included betrayal.

She was his sister.

She was his sister.

Shit. She was his sister.

I couldn't quite process the thought. I couldn't quite make myself believe it, even though it made sense. All of it. The way he had looked at me in Romania, like he didn't want me to hear the voices. The way he had fearlessly fought his way through the cabin in the Alps because they couldn't touch him. That split-second decision to run towards the bombs, warning those inside, no doubt.

She was his sister.

No. His sister was missing. His sister was assumed dead.

"How did you get in here, Lily?" he asked, but even as he spoke, all I could think about was betrayal. I had been so careful about trusting him. How did this happen? "You weren't supposed to be able to make it through the front doors, much less to the safe room."

She smiled, halfway and exactly like her brother. Her brother. Luke was her brother. "Oh, come on now. You already know the answer to that," she said. "I had help."

Luke's eyes shifted to the Marine at Lily's back. Both men glared, Luke eyeing the decorated uniform with a type of disgust that I recognized. "Semper fi, huh?"

The Marine didn't respond, so it was up to Lily. "Easy there, Lukey," she said. "Master Sargent Johnson is a good friend of mine. He's been serving this embassy for years—in fact, Sam Winters hired him when he was just a Corporal."

She took one step. Then another. Soon she was back to circling the room, slowly and purposefully, searching for something. "He was Circle back then," she said, "but then there was the Battle at Blackthorne. His dad didn't make it and—well. He soon saw the advantages of joining our ranks."

Master Sargent Johnson looked right at me, then, as if I had been responsible for the loss of his mother. Responsible. I could see my mother's chicken scratch in my mind's eye.

Lily kept walking, searching the shelves until she finally found a brown bottle, smooth and labeled in Italian. Wine, no doubt. Her smile widened as she started on her hunt for a glass.

"You've got people on the inside," Luke said, everything falling into place for him far faster than it was for me. "Of course you do. You always were just like Mom."

"I was simply utilizing the resources I already had, dear brother—do you know where the wine glasses are? I'm dying for a drink."

"That part's Mom, too," he said. "Why don't you ask your good friend Sargent Johnson? He seems to know where things are."

The Marine opened his mouth to speak, but Lily beat him to it. "Honestly Luke, it's Master Sargent. If you're going to passive aggressively insult the man, at least do it correctly—ah!"