Spies in Sandals [Book Four]

Chapter Sixteen: Putting the Puzzle Pieces Back Together

Hey! This update marks the second to last (penultimate, if you wanna be fancy) chapter of this book. So almost done! Hopefully this starts bringing it to closure. I've been enjoying summer, and I hope to get the last chapter up soon because I have some other books I really want to work on too, especially this new idea I've been thinking over the past week. So enjoy this chapter and let me know your thoughts on this beginning-of-closure!

Gracias! <3 vb123321

Chapter Sixteen

Putting the Puzzle Pieces Back Together

Don't get me wrong – I know Zach had all the right in the world to scrunch up against the car window in the backseat and avoid all eye contact with either Jer or me. I couldn't blame him for staring out the window the entire trip back to the house, and I couldn't blame him for the accusation scrawled across his features when I glanced in the rearview mirror from shotgun.

If someone had known that my mom was alive when I thought she was dead for nine years and they hadn't told me, I'd be hella pissed, too.

Still, knowing that he was completely justified in his intensive cold-shouldering did nothing to dull the ache that spread through my chest when I saw the betrayal in his eyes. I told myself that it was just the bruising on my torso from rolling out of the car hours before, which still hurt like hell, but heartache felt a little different than that.

When we arrived, the sun had risen over the ocean behind the CIA house, turning the dark waters into a shimmering blue-grey against gold and pink clouds. I thought briefly that even sunrises over the Michigan lakes didn't look that amazing, and then my sandals hit the ground outside the car, jolting me out of my sleepy state. Jer came around to my side, glancing at the backseat as Zach didn't budge.

"This isn't quite how I'd planned to do it," he said in a low voice to me, stifling a yawn as he ruffled his hair with one hand. "But I guess we've got no choice now."

"I'm not sure he's going to forgive me – us." My voice came out very small, and Jer placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Hang in there, Nat. He'll come through." And as we both eyed the backseat, where Zach still sat immobile, he added, "I think it'd be better if you were the one who asked him if he wants to go in anytime soon. He might bite my head off."

I wasn't entirely sure he'd respond too well to me, either, but I still pulled open the backseat door and looked into Zach's dark face, saying quietly, "She's just inside, Zach, if you want to see her still. Take your time."

His hands clenched and unclenched on his thighs as he stared at the seat in front of him, taking a deep breath. I stepped back and turned to face the house, seeing it for the first time in the sunlight. The storm from the evening before had washed away any clouds overhead, the sun kissing the roof shingles promising a beautiful day.

Jer couldn't handle waiting around that long, not when his phone was still blowing up every other minute, and so he told me that he'd go into the house first and prepare Mary O'Malley so that she didn't have a heart attack. I didn't find his word choice very amusing, but I had to admit it was probably a good idea, so I agreed to wait for Zach to follow.

Zach definitely took his time getting out of the car, not that I blamed him for that, either. When he finally emerged, his face was so pale that I thought he might pass out as he looked up at the front door. Though I had managed to nap a little between the car rides and the hospital, I was pretty sure he hadn't at all, and the fatigue showed as he swayed on his feet.

"You ready?" I asked, not because he wanted me to say anything to him but because I couldn't stand the silence.

He didn't answer me, didn't even look at me, but simply started toward the front door in a walk so hesitant it was practically a stumble. I hung back and watched him go with the ache in my chest moving into a lump in my throat, wanting more than anything to join him. Messing up sucked worse than I'd thought it would (I know, stupid of me).