The Model Spy

Chapter 14 - Doomed to Be Friends

I burst into the hotel room, out of breath and still coughing up smoke. As soon as I set foot in the suite, Zach descended on me, grasping my shoulders. His worried face was inches from my own.

"Where were you?" he asked. With a sudden start, he finally realized what I looked like. His grip on my shoulders became tighter as his eyes widened. "What happened? Fred called hours ago saying that you were coming back!"

"I'll tell you. Give me a second!" I shook him away. "Look at this," I said quickly, just happy that we finally had a clue since our mistake earlier. "It's Christinne's necklace!"

"Why is this important?" he sneered and knocked it from my hand. It fell to the floor. "For the last time, where were you?"

By the hand, I led him to the couch and sat down. He took a seat next to me rather impatiently. "After I left the airport, I wanted to take a walk-"

"Who did this to you?" Zach interrupted, laying his hand on my bruised and burned face. I squirmed back in pain.

Aware that he had hurt me, he instantly pulled his hand away and folded it in his lap. "How did this happen?" he asked again slowly.

"This girl came out of the shadows and attacked me. She said I had been warned, that they had a soft spot for me."

"There is more than one suspect. Just as we believed," Zach said, making a mental note for our files.

"She carried me into the sewers and left me there. And there was a bomb!" My voice began to rise with excitement. The fact that the blast had left me somewhat deaf in my left ear didn't help that much either. Zach's eyes widened, as if he didn't believe me. I didn't need much proof, though, given my appearance.

"But you escaped," Zach said, repeating the obvious out loud, like he was reassuring himself.

His worry took me by surprise for a moment. "Yes," I affirmed softly, "I'm fine. And," I pointed to the gold necklace on the floor, "I found that where I was attacked. It's the same one Christinne wears."

I lifted myself from the sofa and ran to my luggage that was now sitting in the corner of the room. The fashion magazine was rolled up, placed snugly in the side pocket of my rolling suitcase. I pulled it from my bag. Frantically, I flipped to the page with Christinne's photo and showed Zach, holding my breath as he studied the image.

He looked suspicious, but he finally nodded his head. "You found something, even if it isn't Christinne's."

I was waiting for a compliment. Something like a "Good job." or "I'm impressed. You clearly can do this alone." But I didn't get any of that. All he did was get up and fumble in the kitchen area silently. From the freezer he grabbed a blue icepack. I watched as he took his seat next to me again and placed the cold icepack in my hands.

Finally: "I can't believe you did this," he said, the familiar, angry edge returning to his voice. "You could have been killed."

Was he kidding? He had to have been joking!

"Why do you care?" I threw down the icepack and stared at him. "First you make it known that you hate me and then you act like you care by trying to protect me. Which is it Zach?"

He looked taken aback. I hated how he didn't want anything to do with me, but now he wouldn't let me leave his side. What was his problem?

"I want the truth. Why do you hate me so much?" I crossed my arms and stared at him.

He shook his head adamantly, his jaw clenched tightly. "I don't hate you. I never hated you." He looked at me sincerely. "I just didn't want to like you."