planning on it,” I say, pulling up Damon’s contact in Tristan’s phone.
I dial the number and it only rings once before he answers.
“Tristan,” Damon answers. “How is Katerina? Is she okay?”
“Damon, hey. It’s me,” I say.
“I was so worried about you,” he says. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. How are you? You okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll live,” he says. “I can’t believe West is… you know…”
West died.
And maybe I was complaining about not liking the guy, but really, he was all right. He didn’t deserve to die.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Damon, knowing he’s probably spent a lot of time with the guy. He was, after all, his bodyguard.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asks.
“Vaguely. I was kind of out of it. Tristan had to carry me,” I answer. “I remember seeing one of your bodyguards carrying you.”
“I passed out when I hit my head,” he says. “I wish I could’ve had time to say goodbye to you. Who knows when I will see you again.”
“Hopefully soon,” I tell him. “Kazimir can’t hide forever, right?”
“Right,” he says, but his voice says otherwise. “I just wanted to dance with you at homecoming.”
“We still might get to,” I say, assuring him. “And if we don’t then we will dance later. And we won’t have to do it in a room full of people either—just you and me.”
“That sounds better anyway,” he says. I can tell he’s smiling, and I wish I was there to see it. “I miss you, Katerina.”
“How can you miss me? You just seen me earlier today,” I say.
“I just do,” he says. “All of this is crazy. I hate it.”
“Me too. I just hate that I dragged you into this.”
“You didn’t. I was in this already. Trust me, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to run from a crazy person,” he says.
“I know, but this time it’s my dad’s terrorist group. Well, technically somebody who went rogue,” I say. “It’s still happening because of my dad.”
“Are you still falling in like with me?” he asks.
My frown quickly turns into a smile. “Yeah.”
“Good,” he says. “Because I plan on making you fall in more than just like with me.”
I am not sure how to respond to that, so I don’t.
“I want you to meet my dad,” Damon says. “After Kazimir is caught.”
“Your dad? As in the president?”
“Yeah,” he says, now sounding unsure of himself.
“Won’t he hate me? I mean, considering who my dad is,” I say.
“No, he won’t hate you. It doesn’t matter if does anyway, because I like you more than enough for the both of us.”
I laugh. “Whatever you say, Damon.”
I hear somebody talking in the background.
“I’ve got to go,” he says. “My plane is about to take off.”
“Okay,” I say, wishing I could be with him. He hates riding on airplanes. “On take off, just imagine I’m there with you, holding your hand.”
“I will,” he says. “Bye, Katerina.”
“Bye.”
I end the call and hand the phone back to Tristan.
“I’m kind of glad I was a dork in high school,” he tells me. “Back then, I hated not having a girlfriend, but now I’m kind of glad I didn’t have one. You two are so sweet that it makes me sick.”
“Ha ha,” I say, no humor in my voice.
I hope that wherever Tristan and I are going that we will be safe.
Brunette.
“We’re almost there,” Tristan says, gently shaking me.
I guess I feel asleep again. Nearly dying is exhausting.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Tennessee,” he answers.
“I have no clue where that’s at,” I say. “Is that in the United States?”
“Yes,” he answers.
“How long was I asleep?”
“About eight hours.”
“Eight hours?” I ask, feeling panicked.
“Maybe you got a concussion when you fell down during the explosion,” he says, sounding concerned.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to sleep if you had a concussion,” I say, feeling my head. There aren’t any sore spots except the bump on my head
I dial the number and it only rings once before he answers.
“Tristan,” Damon answers. “How is Katerina? Is she okay?”
“Damon, hey. It’s me,” I say.
“I was so worried about you,” he says. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. How are you? You okay?”
“Yeah, I’ll live,” he says. “I can’t believe West is… you know…”
West died.
And maybe I was complaining about not liking the guy, but really, he was all right. He didn’t deserve to die.
“I’m sorry,” I tell Damon, knowing he’s probably spent a lot of time with the guy. He was, after all, his bodyguard.
“Do you remember what happened?” he asks.
“Vaguely. I was kind of out of it. Tristan had to carry me,” I answer. “I remember seeing one of your bodyguards carrying you.”
“I passed out when I hit my head,” he says. “I wish I could’ve had time to say goodbye to you. Who knows when I will see you again.”
“Hopefully soon,” I tell him. “Kazimir can’t hide forever, right?”
“Right,” he says, but his voice says otherwise. “I just wanted to dance with you at homecoming.”
“We still might get to,” I say, assuring him. “And if we don’t then we will dance later. And we won’t have to do it in a room full of people either—just you and me.”
“That sounds better anyway,” he says. I can tell he’s smiling, and I wish I was there to see it. “I miss you, Katerina.”
“How can you miss me? You just seen me earlier today,” I say.
“I just do,” he says. “All of this is crazy. I hate it.”
“Me too. I just hate that I dragged you into this.”
“You didn’t. I was in this already. Trust me, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to run from a crazy person,” he says.
“I know, but this time it’s my dad’s terrorist group. Well, technically somebody who went rogue,” I say. “It’s still happening because of my dad.”
“Are you still falling in like with me?” he asks.
My frown quickly turns into a smile. “Yeah.”
“Good,” he says. “Because I plan on making you fall in more than just like with me.”
I am not sure how to respond to that, so I don’t.
“I want you to meet my dad,” Damon says. “After Kazimir is caught.”
“Your dad? As in the president?”
“Yeah,” he says, now sounding unsure of himself.
“Won’t he hate me? I mean, considering who my dad is,” I say.
“No, he won’t hate you. It doesn’t matter if does anyway, because I like you more than enough for the both of us.”
I laugh. “Whatever you say, Damon.”
I hear somebody talking in the background.
“I’ve got to go,” he says. “My plane is about to take off.”
“Okay,” I say, wishing I could be with him. He hates riding on airplanes. “On take off, just imagine I’m there with you, holding your hand.”
“I will,” he says. “Bye, Katerina.”
“Bye.”
I end the call and hand the phone back to Tristan.
“I’m kind of glad I was a dork in high school,” he tells me. “Back then, I hated not having a girlfriend, but now I’m kind of glad I didn’t have one. You two are so sweet that it makes me sick.”
“Ha ha,” I say, no humor in my voice.
I hope that wherever Tristan and I are going that we will be safe.
Brunette.
“We’re almost there,” Tristan says, gently shaking me.
I guess I feel asleep again. Nearly dying is exhausting.
“Where are we?” I ask.
“Tennessee,” he answers.
“I have no clue where that’s at,” I say. “Is that in the United States?”
“Yes,” he answers.
“How long was I asleep?”
“About eight hours.”
“Eight hours?” I ask, feeling panicked.
“Maybe you got a concussion when you fell down during the explosion,” he says, sounding concerned.
“I thought you weren’t supposed to sleep if you had a concussion,” I say, feeling my head. There aren’t any sore spots except the bump on my head
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