The Disappearance Of Sloane Sullivan. Gia CribbsЧитать онлайн книгу.
the motel hallway, but I knew he was one of them. His shaggy brown hair and big brown eyes made him look younger than the rest of the suits I’d seen that day, but he was too serious to be anything other than an agent.
He rubbed the back of his neck and took a deep breath. I decided I liked him, even though he hadn’t really said much to me. He was the only one who looked like I felt: sad and exhausted and totally freaked out.
“No...no!”
I flinched at the cries that rang through the paper-thin motel walls. My dad’s cries.
I jumped up, heart pounding, desperate to help him, but the man grabbed my arm. I stared at him through tears I couldn’t blink away. He silently shook his head.
I hadn’t known I’d been asking a question with that stare until he answered, but now I wanted him to take the answer back. “What’s your name?” I whispered, my voice cracking.
He held my gaze for a long moment. “Agent Markham. But everyone calls me Mark.”
“You’re wrong, Mark.” I tried to say it as forcefully as I could, but that didn’t make it true.
When we’d left home that afternoon, the agents said they were sending someone to get my mom from work to speed things up, and that we’d all meet at this motel. We’d been waiting for hours. She hadn’t shown up.
Mark swallowed hard. “They got to her first.”
The words were like ice in my veins.
“She left work before we got there. Her boss had given her the afternoon off and she was coming home to surprise you and we didn’t know. We tried but...they got to her before we did.”
“No.” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to keep the truth out. “No. She’s just late, that’s all. She’s coming.”
“I’m sorry.”
It was the softness of Mark’s voice, barely above a whisper, that made me look at him. And his eyes did me in. They were so full of sorrow and anger and guilt that I couldn’t pretend he was lying.
My whole body started to shake as tears streamed down my face.
Mark knelt in front of me and held me tight and even though I’d just met him, I didn’t want him to let go. I forced the words out between shaky breaths: “Are they going to find us too?”
This time when he spoke, Mark’s voice wasn’t gentle. “Not if I have anything to do with it.”
I wiped away my tears so I could see the photo more clearly. I hadn’t been allowed to take any pictures with me when we left, but it hadn’t mattered because my mom was supposed to be with us. Now I tried to soak up her smile and memorize her face. Because I’d forgotten exactly what she looked like.
“You’re going down!”
Sawyer’s shout from the rec room made me jump. I hurried into the bathroom, flushed the toilet—appearances—and splashed cold water on my face to get rid of the blotchiness the tears had caused. I walked back to the rec room as casually as I could and found Sawyer and Livie in the middle of an intense video-game battle that involved both of them yelling at the TV. I walked over to Jason, who was sitting on the couch, just starting to draw a yellow line on a T-shirt. “Hey, I need to get going.”
He frowned. “Already?”
“Yeah. I...I totally forgot the cable guy is supposed to come hook everything up today. I promised my dad I’d be there. Sorry about not helping with the shirts.” I started to back away.
“It’s okay. Do you want me to walk you out?”
“No. I don’t want to interrupt the fun.” I gestured to the TV. “I’ll show myself out. Tell everyone I said bye, okay? Thanks for having me over.” I rushed up the steps before he could stop me.
Because I didn’t own a car and Jason’s house was only a few blocks from mine, I’d walked there. But as I closed Jason’s front door behind me, I cursed my inability to make a quick getaway. I eyed the cars parked along the street, wishing I could start one up and escape faster. Instead, I hustled down the block and kept crossing streets and ducking through people’s backyards, checking over my shoulder as I went, until I ended up several blocks away in the opposite direction of my place. If anyone had tried to follow me, I was pretty sure I’d lost them.
I sat on a bench and buried my face in my hands. The picture of my mom burned bright behind my eyelids. Even though I wasn’t near the beach, I could hear the crash of the waves, feel the hot sand on my feet, smell the way my mom’s perfume and suntan lotion mixed to create the flower-coconut scent I’d loved. Silent tears ran down my cheeks and I shook my head at my own stupidity for breaking down in the middle of the hall where anyone could’ve seen.
You’re not her. Just because things felt familiar back there does not mean you’re that girl anymore. You can never be her again. Too much has happened. Jason doesn’t know you and you don’t know him. You’re Sloane, and he needs to believe you’re Sloane.
I took a deep breath and wiped away my tears. Blend in, follow the rules from here on out and don’t let anyone get too close. Especially not your former best friend.
“Shh.”
The whispered hush sounded loud in the cramped space where I was crouching. My knees scraped against something rough as I covered my nose and mouth with my hands. I was breathing too loud and too fast. I had to be quiet.
Something solid blocked my front and something sharp and jagged was poking my back. I needed to see what was going on, but there was only darkness. Even though it was nearly impossible, I tried to move. A hand clamped down on my arm and it hurt.
Pop! Pop, pop!
The explosions were so loud, so close, that my hands flew to my ears. My dad’s face appeared out of the darkness, right in front of me. His nose was practically touching mine and his eyes were wild with fear. He whispered a single word: “Run.”
I began to shake. I tried to jerk away from the person holding me down because I had to run. Even though I had no idea where I was, my dad had told me to run.
“Hey,” a gentle voice said. “Kid, wake up.”
My eyes flew open.
Mark was sitting on the side of my twin bed, studying my face. He squeezed my shoulders. “You’re okay.”
I shrugged out of his grip and sat up.
“Did you have the nightmare again?”
I nodded and took a deep breath, willing my heart to slow down.
He pursed his lips. “Anything new?”
“No.” I ran my fingers through my hair, loosening the sweaty strands stuck to my neck. “Exactly the same as always.”
He exhaled and ran his hands along his jeans. “It’s been a while since you’ve had it.”
“Yeah.”
“I wonder why it happened now.”
Yesterday. Jason. My mom. Take your pick. “I don’t know.”
I hugged my knees, waiting for the pinpricks of unease in my chest to settle. It was the same feeling I got every time I had the nightmare, every time it felt like someone was watching me. And the same feeling I’d had for a split second two nights ago when I