Trust Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Saturday, September 29

  Sunday, September 30

  Monday, October 1

  Tuesday, October 2

  Wednesday, October 3

  Thursday, October 4

  Friday, October 5

  Saturday, October 6

  Author's Note

  More Books by Scarlett

  Find Scarlett Online

  Trust

  The Zara Chronicles #4

  Scarlett Haven

  Copyright © 2018 Scarlett Haven

  http://scarletthaven.net

  All rights reserved.

  Cover by Scarlett Haven

  Edited by Janet at Dragonfly Editing

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, places, events, or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are products of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Saturday, September 29

  Nightmare.

  I am sitting on a cold, hard floor. The air smells musky and I have a sharp pain in my head. At first, I think it’s from the concussion I got from the almost plane crash, but it’s a different kind of headache.

  I still haven’t opened my eyes. I don’t know why, but I can’t yet. I’m too tired. And I’m worried that I won’t ever be able to wake up from whatever nightmare that I am having.

  As I drift in and out on consciousness, the one thought I keep having is I hope the guys are okay.

  The sound of chains rattling is what fully wakes me up from my nightmare, and I realize that my nightmare isn’t just a dream.

  I am sitting on the floor of a cold jail cell; my hands are handcuffed behind my back.

  The cell is tiny, maybe only five feet by five feet. There is nothing inside the cell, no bed, no toilet. Just me and a thick layer of dirt that covers the floor. The walls are concrete on two sides of me, and there is no window to look out. On the other two sides, all there is are iron bars that prevent me from leaving the cell. It’s too dark to see what is on the outside, but to the right of me, I see that I am not alone. There is somebody in the cell next to me. They are much worse off than I am, though. They are tied up from the ceiling and they aren’t looking so great.

  “Hello,” I whisper, not wanting anybody else to hear me. I just want to see if the other person is okay.

  “It took you awhile to wake up. I was starting to worry,” the voice says.

  The voice is familiar. Not somebody I know well, but definitely somebody I know.

  “Do I know you?” I ask.

  “I’m Ezra,” he says. “We take human behavior together.”

  Ezra.

  That kid who talked to me in class on Thursday. Other than the one time, I haven’t talked to him, but it’s not a surprise. I’ve hardly talked to anybody at Spy School outside of my teammates.

  I think about the guys. They must be worried.

  “How long have you been here?” I ask.

  “They took me from my dorm room on Friday night,” he answers.

  “Who are they?”

  “I don’t know,” he says. “I only just woke up a few hours ago and nobody has come by to say anything.”

  As selfish as it sounds, I am comforted by the fact that I am not alone. I am equally comforted by the fact that none of the guys are here with me. Whatever has happened, I’m glad it’s not happening to them, too.

  “I don’t understand,” I say. “How did they take you from your dorm and me from my house? I thought Spy School was supposed to be secure.”

  “It is,” Ezra says. “I hate to say it, but it has to be an inside job.”

  “Do you think my...” I clear my throat. “Do you think Zach is okay?”

  “Zach?” he asks.

  “Zach Stone,” I say. “I live in a house with him off campus.”

  “Why?” he asks. “That’s... kind of weird.”

  I don’t know if I should tell him. I mean, it’s not supposed to be a secret, but what if the people who have us here are listening to our conversation right now?

  But then again, if they took me and Ezra, this isn’t about who my dad is. Whatever reason we were taken, it was for something else. I just don’t know what, yet. Ezra and I haven’t been together for any projects, and aside from my human behavior class, I wouldn’t know him.

  Maybe it’s somehow connected to that class.

  “He’s my dad,” I say, deciding to just tell him the truth.

  “Oh. But I thought your dad was some famous baseball player,” Ezra says, sounding surprised.

  “Zach is my biological father,” I say. “My mom had an affair, but that’s not important. The important part is that we need to figure out what we’re doing here.”

  “I was hoping you would know,” he says.

  “I was hoping the same,” I say.

  Dang it.

  “Maybe it is just random,” Ezra says. “We were just the two unlucky ones they chose to kidnap.”

  “No,” I say. “They went out of their way to get me. I am staying about half a mile away from school campus.”

  “Oh, right. I forgot about that,” he says.

  “What ways are we connected other than that?” I ask.

  “No other ways,” he says. “I’m a sophomore and you’re a junior. The only class we have together is human behavior.”

  “I didn’t know you were a sophomore,” I say.

  “You didn’t notice I wasn’t in any of your classes?”

  “Nobody in my grade really talks to me.”

  “Oh,” he says. “I guess that makes sense.”

  It makes sense that nobody talks to me?

  I leave that question for another time, though, because there are much more important matters.

  “So, it has to be connected with our human behavior class,” I say. “Which doesn’t make sense, because we’ve only been to one class.”

  “Maybe it has something to do with our assignment,” he says.

  “Our assignment?”

  “Did you get your first assignment on Friday?” Ezra asks.

  Then it clicks.

  The file that Ms. Schmidt gave me.

  “Do you think the same file was given to the both of us?” I ask.

  “It’s possible,” he answers.

  “Well, it’s the only theory we’ve got,” I say. “So, that has to be it.”

  But what do we do now? It’s not like we can just walk out of here.

  The boys will be looking for me, though. And so will Zach. I just have to trust that they will find me. They’re my only hope.

  Like torture.

  I am sitting there for quite a few hours when somebody comes by with a tray of food. I honestly wasn’t expecting food, not that the food is great or anything. Just a plain ham sandwich on wheat bread, a water and a banana, which is a little odd. But I don’t complain. I eat the food because I am starving. But shortly after I drink the bottle of water, I have to go to the bathroom. There isn’t a bathroom in my cell, so I try to hold it, but I’ve really got to go.

  “I need to go to the bathroom!” I yell out, hoping somebody is listening.

  I am met by silence.

  Uh.

  “This really sucks, huh?” Ezra says.

  When they brought us food, they removed my cuffs and untied him, so at least my arms are free now.

  “At least we got food,” I say. “Still, I wish they would come tell us what they want.”

  Eventually we will find out. We have to, right?

  I hear somebody walking down the hallway and a large man stands at the door to my cell. He’s got long, dark hair and a bushy beard. I can barely see his face, but I do notice his bright blue eyes. I try to memorize as much
about him a I can.

  “No funny business,” he says.

  He has a Russian accent, which surprises me. The guy who was here earlier had a British accent. Since when do the Russians and Brits work together? But then again, this is Spy School. It doesn’t matter what country you’re from. When you join Spy School, country loyalties don’t matter anymore.

  I follow the tall guy down the small hallway until we get to the end. There is a door and he points.

  “Bathroom,” he says, then looks at his watch. “You’ve got two minutes, then I come in.”

  I rush into the bathroom, knowing that he means his threat. I pee quicker than I ever have in my life and wash my hands. I’m thankful to see that there is soap. The soap actually smells good—cucumber melon.

  The bathroom is tiny—smaller than my cell. There is only a toilet and a sink in here, which makes me wonder if we will get to take showers. I want a shower so bad, but it probably wouldn’t do any good anyway. The floor in my cell is disgusting.

  There is no window in the bathroom, which is a little disheartening. Any escape plans I could make wouldn’t work, simply because I don’t know how to get out of here. I get the feeling that we are underground somewhere, but I can’t know for sure.

  When I walk out of the bathroom, the Russian guy is standing there with his arms crossed.

  “Go back to cell,” he says, pushing me in front of him.

  I walk, not fighting against him, simply because I couldn’t fight this man if I tried. He’s much bigger than I am, plus I’m simply not strong enough. This guy could squash me like a bug.

  Honestly, I feel like a bug next to him. I’m barely five foot two and this guy in more than a foot taller than me, and he probably weighs two hundred pounds more, but he’s pure muscle. Very intimidating.

  When we get to the cell, I walk inside, trying to be a model prisoner. Maybe if I’m good, they will give me answers.

  “What do you want with us?” I ask, as he locks my cell door.

  “You be quiet,” he says, then walks away without answering my question.

  “That was lovely,” Ezra says.

  “No kidding,” I say, sighing. “This is ridiculous. I don’t even know what time it is or how long I’ve been in here. Zach must be worried. And my team—I imagine all the guys are freaking out right now.”

  “If anybody is going to find us, it’s Zach Stone,” he says.

  “Yeah,” I say, rubbing a hand against my forehead. “You’re right. I know you are. This just sucks. I feel trapped. And for what? They haven’t even talked to us. They haven’t asked any questions, nothing.”

  “Honestly, I’m worried about when they do start asking questions,” Ezra says. “What if they hurt us?”

  “I didn’t think about that,” I say, looking over at him. My eyes have adjusted to the dark, so I can see him better now than earlier. “I just assumed they weren’t going to hurt us. I mean, they’ve fed us and everything.”

  “Maybe leaving us in the cell is part of their tactic,” he says. “It’s day one and I’m already stir crazy. Imagine how we will feel in a few more days?”

  He’s right.

  Anybody at Spy School would feel this way. We are used to being busy all the time and sticking us down here in a tiny cell is almost like torture.

  “Zach will find us soon,” I say, having to believe the words.

  “I hope so,” he says.

  “What time do you think it is?”

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to tell. I’m getting tired, so I imagine it’s almost night time, but I can’t be certain,” he says.

  Yeah.

  I suppose we have been down here all day, which worries me a little bit.

  Just how far away from the school are we?

  Sunday, September 30

  Stick together.

  I wake up with a crick in my neck. Probably because I fell asleep sitting up with my head leaned against the concrete wall beside me. My body hurts in ways I never imagined it could hurt.

  When I look over in Ezra’s cell, I see that he is asleep in a similar way as I was. Poor guy. He’s going to be hurting when he wakes up, too.

  I get up from the floor to walk around the tiny cell. I’ve been cooped up for so long, and I’m a bit antsy. We still don’t have any word on why we’re in here. And the truth is, they haven’t treated us that badly, for prisoners.

  “Ow,” I hear Ezra say.

  I look over and see him holding is neck.

  “You’re awake,” I say.

  “I honestly can’t believe I fell asleep,” he says. “This is so uncomfortable.”

  “No kidding,” I say. “Do you think they’ll talk to us today and tell us why we’re here?”

  “Maybe,” he says. “Unless we’re here for some kind of hostage thing.”

  “You think they’re holding us for ransom?”

  “It’s possible,” he says. “You said Zach is your dad and he’s loaded. So is your mom, right?”

  I didn’t actually know about Zach’s financial situation, but I didn’t figure he was hurting.

  “What about your parents?” I ask.

  “Everybody at Spy School is paid well, but my parents are exceptionally well off because they’ve been on an undercover mission for the past six years,” Ezra says. “I haven’t seen them or heard from them since they left.”

  “That’s awful,” I say.

  “It was an important mission,” he says. “And until I came here, they had somebody check on me once a week to make sure I was okay. And they always put money in my account, so I was okay.”

  “Still... six years,” I say.

  Though, I guess I can’t say anything. My mom has pretty much left me by myself my entire life, for months at a time, while she went off to film movies and do publicity tours.

  “Do you have any siblings?” I ask.

  “I have an older sister. But six years ago, she was here. She’s twenty now and hasn’t lived at home since she was fourteen,” he says.

  “Sounds like my brother,” I say, sitting down on the floor again. “Baseball has been his entire world since forever. Even as a kid, he dedicated every waking second to baseball. He was recruited right out of high school and I only see him when I go watch his games. It sucks, because it was almost his off season when I came here.”

  “You miss him?”

  “Yeah,” I answer. “Do you miss your sister?”

  “Sometimes,” he says. “She took care of me when I was younger. Honestly, she was more of a mom to me than my own mom, most of the time.”

  “Do you think we’re destined to be like our parents someday?” I ask.

  “I hope not,” he says.

  “Me, too,” I say.

  “Your older brother raised you, too?” he asks.

  “Nah, my nanny did,” I say. “My brother is only two years older than I am, but if either of us was mature enough to raise the other, I would’ve been the one raising him.”

  I guess that’s not really true. Jason is mature enough in his own way. I mean, he was eighteen when he went pro. That took a lot of dedication. Unfortunately, there wasn’t room for much else in his life. Even me. I would always just make the most of our time together. But now, I think I understand it more. Now that I’ve found something that works for me, I get it. I wouldn’t give Spy School up for anything. Even though it kind of sucks right now.

  “Do you think they’re going to kill us?” I ask him.

  He scoots over closer to my side. “No, I don’t. If they we’re, I think they wouldn’t go through all this trouble.”

  I scoot closer to him. “Yeah, I guess. I just hate this. I’m worried about the guys, too.”

  “You’re worried about your team while you’re the one stuck in a cell?” he asks.

  “I just know they’re probably freaking out,” I say.

  “Probably,” he says. “They pretty much adopted you the first day you were at school.”

  I nod.r />
  “It kind of sucks,” Ezra says. “I wouldn’t have minded you being on my team.”

  I would never switch teams.

  Ever.

  But being trapped down here with Ezra isn’t so bad. I mean, it definitely could’ve been worse.

  “What is your team like?” I ask.

  “There are four of us on my team. Isabel, Emma, Michael and me,” he says. “We kind of decided at the end of our freshman year that we should team up. We got partnered up for an assignment, and we just fit together so well.”

  “That’s how I feel about the guys,” I say. “I just somehow fit. That sounds crazy, considering their team was perfect before I ever joined it, but it feels like I was made to be with them.”

  “I can see it,” Ezra says. “I don’t know you very well, but you seem smart—like you’re good at everything.”

  I shrug. “Not everything.”

  “Now you’re just being modest,” he says.

  I’m not comfortable talking about me, so I change the subject.

  “What if somebody doesn’t find their team in Spy School?” I ask.

  “Most don’t,” he says. “My mom and dad didn’t have a team. When they got married, they partnered up. But that happens a lot, anyway. People leave their teams when they get married.”

  The thought of the guys and me splitting up hurts my chest.

  I couldn’t imagine not being on a team with all of them. I’ve got to make sure we all stick together.

  “Some people stay solo,” Ezra says. “Like your dad.”

  “I think Zach works better on his own,” I say.

  I can’t imagine Zach would ever do well with a team, but maybe that’s just because he’s been on his own for so long.

  “I’m sure he does,” he says. “He’s kinda scary, no offense.”

  “A little,” I say.

  But I’m still thinking about the guys and my team.

  No matter what, we have to stick together.

  I will make sure of it.

  Monday, October 1

  Okay?