"Jack is Bandit, Damien is Reaper, Cohen is Rogue, Aaron is Outlaw, and like you just saw, Cody is Shadow."

"And what are you?" I ask, curious to hear what my brother is called at work since I'm assuming in a more formal setting it's not Wellsy.

He pauses for a moment and looks me dead in the eyes before finally answering. "Vendetta," he says.

My breath catches in my throat. From what I know about code names, they all have some kind of story behind them. I have no clue how the others got theirs, but I have a pretty good idea of how Beck got his, and I really don't want to overthink it right now.

Nodding my head, I pull out my own phone and copy down the contacts he wanted me to have. In my phone, they're all listed under their actual names.

I hand Beckett's phone back to him and he pockets it. "I told the guys I would give you their numbers, by the way, so I'm dead serious when I tell you to call them if you need anything at all. They'll pick up. And, if they don't, I'll kick their asses." He smiles after that, and I laugh and shoot him a genuine smile as well.

I walk Beckett out to the front door where his bags are waiting for him. He gives me a long hug, and I know he feels just as uneasy about leaving as I do. When we finally break apart, I watch him go to his car and back out of the driveway.

He'll be fine, I tell myself. And so will you.

----------------------

I worked today, so while the stress of Beckett being in danger is still there, it isn't as all-consuming as it was this morning. I trust in his abilities, and having things to do has really helped take my mind off of it.

I told Esther I could stay late and help her today since I know there's no one at home waiting for me. I usually only work until 4:30 or 5pm, but it's 7pm now and I'm still here shelving books. The store closes at 8pm, but it's practically empty right now. This is how I like it, though. The feel of a quiet bookstore is just so relaxing.

Just as I'm about to climb the stepstool to put a book back up on a high shelf, I hear a throat clear behind me. I turn around and see Esther, standing there smiling but with her hands on her hips.

"Shouldn't you be going home now, Brielle?" she asks. I put the book where it belongs and step back down to talk to her.

"I don't mind, really. The store closes soon anyway."

"Exactly. And, there's no one here. Not that I don't appreciate the extra work you've put in today, but aren't there other things a girl your age might rather be doing on a Friday night?"

I laugh at that. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know dear, but I'm sure you could be doing things that are a lot more fun than spending all this extra time with me."

Smiling, I look at the ground. I know I should really get going, but the thought of being home alone in that dark and empty house fills me with a sense of dread. Typically, with Beck there, I'm able to prevent myself from reliving the trauma. By myself, I'm worried that will be a much bigger struggle.

I thank Esther and grab my bag before heading to my car. Taking a deep breath, I turn the key in the ignition and start driving home.

I haven't gotten far before my stomach starts to growl. I hadn't planned on working as late as I did, and in doing so I accidentally skipped dinner. Feeling relieved that I have a reason to go home later, I turn before my street and head to the Chipotle down the road. I've been craving their burritos ever since we've moved here, and it feels like there's no time like the present to try it out.

Now having more time in the car, I reach for my phone and shuffle my favorite playlist. I turn the volume up high and belt my favorite songs. I really needed this.

The parking lot isn't crowded and by the time I go in, order, and head back to my car, only about 15 minutes have passed. Smiling contently, I turn the car back on and turn left onto the road towards home.

Still singing along to my music, I stop suddenly when I notice the car behind me. Wasn't that same car in the Chipotle lot?

Shaking my head, I figure it must be a coincidence. It's a smaller Honda, tons of people have that car. Turning right onto a street about five minutes from my house, I look in the rearview mirror and notice that the car is still behind me. My heart rate spikes. Oh my god, what if he is following me?

Taking the next right onto a random street to see if he follows, I watch in horror as his right blinker turns on before coming down the exact same street. I take three more random turns, but I can't seem to shake him.

My hands are trembling as I pick up my phone. Struggling to breathe, I unlock my phone as fast as possible and go right to the list of names Beckett had given me this morning. Without even caring which name I hit, I put my phone on speaker and pray that someone picks up.

Code Name ShadowDonde viven las historias. Descúbrelo ahora