Losing Francesca (17 page)

I take her hand and tug her towards the beach. "Come on, let's sit down here for a while." I cop a seat on the sand, then position her in front of me so her back rests against my chest, and wrap my arms around her. She drops her head against my shoulder as I play with her hair.

"Maybe you can just choose to be Fiona Sullivan?"

Her upper body shakes a little as she laughs. "What? Just start saying I
am
Fiona, and then play along and become someone else?"

"Why not? It's not like you'd even have to deny your other life at all, really. You could just be both girls. Enjoy both lives."

"It would be wrong."

"Why?" I turn her so she has to look at me. "Why would it be wrong? The Sullivans want you to be Fiona, I want you to be Fiona. Your dad is busy, and you're grown up now. It would hardly be different, in fact, it's a win for you all the way around. You get a new family and you get to keep the old one."

"But I don't think my dad stole me, Brody. I love him. I think it would break his heart if I denied him like that."

We sit there like that for a few seconds, then she rolls over and lies back on the sand to stare up at the sky. I lie down as well, pulling her close to me. We stay like this for a while, just thinking, running all these things over in our heads. "Do you have it in you to answer one more question?"

"Oh, God! What now?"

"Who taught you to speak English?"

"I've always been able to speak English. I cannot even remember a time when I couldn't. I mean, I never took, like, lessons for English. And our staff was always made up of Americans and Sophia is American too, so I never developed an accent."

"And that's not strange to you? I mean, that's not suspicious?" I wait for an answer but whatever she's thinking, she holds it in. "What nationality are you?"

"I'm American. I have an American passport."

"No, I mean, not the fake ones you got caught with, but your original heritage."

She turns to look at me. "
American
. My real mother was American."

"So your name's not really Francesca whatever?"

"No," she says with a shake of her head. "I was just using that name to enter the country."

"Why? I mean what the fuck, Fee? What the fuck were you doing?"

"I just wanted to go to college like everyone else. Be normal for once. I couldn't enter under my real name because then I'd be a target. Plus, I've never used that name for anything. It's like that girl doesn't even exist. It would raise all sorts of issues. So I have a fake passport, lots of them actually, and I was just gonna screw around for a couple months before college started. That's it. That's all I did and all this happened."

I huff out some air in a half laugh. "You are one complicated chick, Fee. I'm not sure what to call you anymore. Can't you give me the name you go by?"

"No, but actually, Fiona is pretty close, so just call me that if you want."

"Now I've heard it all." I can only laugh because there's nothing left to do. "You realize this is pretty fucked up, right? Not only the fact that you got caught by the FBI and got shipped away to live with people you don't know, but also the fact that you have this super-secret life and now it's all in danger of being exposed over something that might not have anything to do with you?"

"Truth is always stranger than fiction."

"Yeah, agreed. OK, seriously last question, because my little brother will not be satisfied until I ask you."

"Ahhh, this is the last one, though. Promise?"

"Promise."

"OK, ask."

"Are you a Russian spy?"

"What?" she asks with a choke in her laugh.

"I'll take that as a no and debrief him the first chance I get. Status confirmed: Not a Russian spy."

She shakes her head and smiles a little. "My turn for a question."

"Shoot."

"Is this the perfect night yet?"

I grin and pull her into a bear hug making her gasp and giggle. "Not even close, Fiona. Nice try though, nice try. Believe me, you won't have to ask when the perfect night comes along because I'll make sure you're in on the announcement."

She squirms, then pushes me until she's straddling my waist as I lie back and grab her little hands. "Brody Mason, I'm not sure the perfect night exists, so maybe I'll just make that decision for you!"

"Is that right?"

Her smile is so big, she thinks she's won. "Yes."

I roll, taking her down on her back now, and pin her arms to the sand. "Now who's in charge?"

"Kiss me."

I lean down, close enough to catch her gasp and hold her breath. Then close the distance between us and kiss her on the cheek. "There, your first kiss. Congratulations, was it everything you thought it'd be?"

"How could you resist me begging for kisses when you admitted to using Gabby what's-her-face for sex for months?"

"Fiona, please. You're so much better than that. Besides, that Brody is gone and honestly, I hope he stays gone forever. I told you, I want everything about you to be perfect. And this day was better than the last one, so that means tomorrow will be better than today."

"So tomorrow you'll kiss me?"

"Maybe. Can I buy you another Fruit Roll-Up for lunch?" She laughs. "Or would you prefer Fruit by the Foot? Do they have that shit on your tropical island?"

"No, we have fruit on the tree on my island. Coconut plantations and kava plants—Oh! That reminds me, you said I could use the internet! Do we still have time?"

I check my phone and shake my head. "Nope, it's already eleven thirty if you can believe it." I get up and pull her with me. "We have just enough time to walk all the way home instead of driving. You don't plan on having me strip-searched by the FBI tonight, do you?"

"Well, I might like to see that actually, but I have it on good authority that they won't be bothering us tonight."

"Do they watch you, do you think? You know, secretly?"

"Oh, well, I never thought about it. I sure hope not, because then they know that Sean helped me call my dad today."

"How'd that go?"

"Good, except he sounded very angry, so I'm not sure what he's got planned, but you can bet he's got something cooking. Sean thinks he's gonna steal me back."

"Will he?" I ask in a slight panic.

"He won't break any laws here in the US, so I don't think so. Whatever he does, it will be legitimate."

"Like buying off a judge?"

She punches me in the arm and laughs. "So you
have
met him?"

"Oh, that's not funny, Miss Sullivan. Not funny at all."

"Well, I guess anything is possible, but most likely he's gonna wait it out and let Fiona turn eighteen so I can just leave. But if they try to keep me past that, I don't know what he'll do. Probably make some phone calls. Right now it's localized to the FBI and my dad most likely, but if things get worse, it will be escalated, I'm sure."

"What's that mean, escalated?"

"Certain officials of certain governments will have to be informed and favors begged for."

"Holy shit, who the hell are you?"

"Fiona Sullivan, right? That's what you guys keep telling me. I'm just Fiona Sullivan."

Chapter Twenty-Six - Francesca

We walk back the way we came, holding hands and chatting easily, when a flash of something in the moonlight draws my attention. The animal bolts into the woods. "What was that?"

"Oh, yeah," Brody says. "I keep meaning to tell you guys, there's a silver horse hanging around our place. Has been for weeks now."

"I bet that's Sean's filly. We tried to catch her the other day and she took off. She's half wild, I think."

"Wild? Nah, she's sweet. We're kinda getting used to her actually. She's trimming the grass for us out here, and that makes Case happy because he's in charge of mowing. And she begs for apples in the morning. She hangs out here a lot."

"I'll let Angela and Sean know, they'll want to get her back, I'm sure."

"So, Fiona. God, that still feels weird." He looks over at me and smiles. "Tomorrow for lunch? You never answered?"

"I doubt I'll have time tomorrow, Frank has a horse being delivered and I'm helping him get her settled."

"Another horse for Sean? Why? He's away at college most of the year."

I shrug. "I have no idea what Frank's doing with that horse."
In fact,
I say to myself,
I really have no idea about him at all
. I know nothing about Frank Sullivan other than he lost his wife and daughter on vacation a dozen years ago. "Can you come over for dinner?" I secretly squeal at this because I've never uttered those words before in my life. I've never had a friend over to my house,
ever
.

"Dinner with the Sullivans. Now I really have heard everything." He stops to have a private laugh, and then squeezes my hand. "I wouldn't miss it. Seven, right?"

"Yeah. And I'm just warning you, dinner with them is kinda loud and crazy. I hope you don't mind?"

"I won't mind," he says, leaning down to whisper it in my ear. "I've missed family dinners, it'll be a nice change for me."

"Oh." I forgot about his parents. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. Your parents," I clarify. "I guess we're all pretty used to losing things around here."

He blows out a long breath. "Yeah, that does suck. But I'm glad you're here, Fiona, Francesca, whatever your real name is. I'm glad you're here." He stops next to the tree that stands guard over my Sullivan room terrace and pulls me into a strong embrace. "It's confusing to feel this way about you. I mean, you started out being Fiona, then Francesca, then someone else who might be someone else…"

I laugh.

"But I'm not sure it matters who you are at this point. I like you."

I tip my head back to look him in the eyes. "I like you too, Brody. And you know what?"

"What?"

"Now would be a really good time to kiss me."

He squeezes, then turns me around so he can press his lips against the back of my neck. I shudder so completely I almost vibrate. "I'll tell you what, I'll kiss you, right now, if you tell me the name your dad calls you."

"Oh, you're going to regret this, Brody Mason. So bad."

"Tell me."

I turn around so I can see his expression. "My dad calls me Fee." I laugh a little. "I swear on my life, my dad calls me Fee."

He bellows out, "Liar!" with feigned indignation.

"I swear, my name is not Fiona, but I told you earlier that it's pretty close. It's just…" I stop to find the right word. "Ethnic. Sorta. It's not common or American, let's just put it that way. So my dad gave me a common nickname, and it's Fee."

He leans down and whispers in my ear as his hands slide along my waist. "You tricked me, but I'll keep my end of the deal if you still want me to."

Even though he's been touching me in all sorts of ways over the past few days, this is immediately different. My whole body flushes with prickles of expectation. "I do, I want you to keep your end."

"You're sure?" he asks again, his words tickling their way into my ear. "Because you'll never get another first kiss for the rest of your life."

His fingertips slide up inside the hem of my shirt, just a fraction of an inch, just the lightest movement, and my hands slide up his arms, dipping up and then down over his muscles. My heart begins to beat harder, faster, and I can feel his do the same. I tip my head back and look up at him. "I'm sure."

"OK, but first I want to show you something." He takes my hand and walks around the side of the tree trunk, then sits down on a flat rock that sticks out from under the wooden fence that separates the house from the dirt road. "Sit in front of me."

I sit between his legs and lean back against his chest. "What are we doing?"

He takes my hand and presses it against the trunk of the tree in front of us and traces my finger along the rough bark. Then I feel a smooth groove in the trunk and he traces it. "What's that?"

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, then finds the flashlight app and lights up the tree.

It's a heart carved into the bark. And it's got a crack down the middle. Inside the heart it says,
I miss you
.

"I wrote that when I was eleven. On Fiona's birthday, when she was turning nine. I gave up on her that day." He scoots me around a little so he can see my face. "And I'm sorry. I know you probably didn't need rescuing from the way you describe your life, but I'm sorry anyway. I lost my faith and I lost you at the same time. And I just want you to know how sorry I am that I gave up."

I have no idea what to say to that.

"And for the record, when I kissed Susie Turner at Mike Grippo's birthday party, I pretended I was kissing you. So you, Fiona Sullivan, were the first girl I ever kissed as far as I'm concerned."

I turn all the way around, sitting back on my butt so I can look him in the eyes. "And now you'll be the first boy I ever kiss, too."