Beautiful Heist

25. Forget The Butterflies...There's An Entire Zoo Partying It Up In My Stomach

Twenty-Five

Forget The Butterflies...There's An Entire Zoo Partying It Up In My Stomach

"Okay, I'm going."

"You're not moving, though."

"I'm going to...eventually!"

"We've been out here for a good hour now..."

My eyes cut to John, narrowing. He wouldn't have been able to really see the look I was giving him, but maybe he'd be able to feel my glare. "Do you want to get rid of me or something?"

He turned toward me and I could see him smile slightly from the light of the streetlamp that barely touched our car. "You know that's not what I meant."

As I looked at him, the lump I'd tried to keep from forming blocking my throat anyway. I tried to swallow it down, but it wasn't budging.

It was just me and John, sitting in the car he'd rented once we got off our train. We'd been sitting there for an hour and it was almost midnight. Before, we'd gone to a late night dinner, the last one we'd have together. There hadn't been much talking, just comfortable silence as we sat together in the same side of the booth. It was crazy to think about, how much both of us had changed since the last time we in Paris, where all of this started.

And it was the place it was going to end.

It had been a tearful goodbye in London, most of which were mine and Elena's. I hated it. Absolutely hated it. We were hugging each other outside the house for a good half hour before John and Grant had to pull us apart. Rosaline was teary-eyed when she gave me a hug, too, thanking me for everything, even for stumbling into their lives. Everyone laughed when I scoffed at the whole 'stumbled into' thing. John only smiled.

After the train ride from London to Paris, John and I were sitting in the car across from the United States Embassy. I was wearing the same clothes I had been at the Louvre. Marta had washed them the day John had brought me to London, but they weren't now, thanks to Elena.

According to her, they needed to look like they'd been through hell and back, right along with me. They were dirty and stained, even torn in a few places. Another tear in the shoulder looked suspiciously like a bullet hole.

I had to look the part, too. Some of the smaller cuts were still slightly opened or in the process of healing, like the one on my cheek from the fight with Juliet at the British Museum. My others had healed up, but my bruises were still there, black and blue blotches all over my skin.

The plan? I was going to go into the Embassy, the girl who had been officially missing for two months, and collapse on the floor. They would surely recognize me, but not how I got there. I wouldn't be able to remember much, just flashes of images since I was 'kept in the dark.'

But I would be found. Hurt and a little out of it, but otherwise fine. Then, after being checked out by a doctor, I would head back to New York City, back to my parents and Jason and Drake and normal life.

I sniffled just as tears started to well up in my eyes. I looked away from John, trying to hide them. "Why do I have to go again?" I whispered. I almost couldn't hear my own words come out of my mouth, they were so quiet. "I mean, it's not like I absolutely have to. I can just call my dad, tell him..."

Stupid tears, making me unable to finish my sentence. I clasped my hands tightly together in my lap, looking down. I knew if I looked over at him again, I'd start crying even more. Sobbing even.