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13. Roadblocks, Consequences, and Risks

I stand there and watch as they practice, as the minutes tick by. I feel no rush to go anywhere and instead lean back against the building behind me.

I study every detail about them, knowing I won't be seeing them again for a long time. Sure I'll see them on cameras or pictures when I go in and check on them, but I won't be seeing them in person for a long time. It had been four years since I had last seen them in person. Four years since I had told them goodnight and that I'd see them in the morning.

I had lied.

They had only been ten at the time, the both of them. People always found it odd when they told them that they were brothers, and then that they were the same age. People always assumed that meant that they were twins, even though neither one of them looked anything like the others.

One had light skin, black hair, and grey eyes. The other had darker skin, brown hair, and hazel eyes. Neither were actually related by blood. One had been adopted into the family, along with a certain red-headed hacker. But regardless of the fact that the three of us weren't related by blood, we had been closer than siblings.

Until I left. Until I ruined everything.

I don't know how long I stay watching them, but eventually, I pull my new phone from my pocket and I pull up all the information about the school they were currently attending and about their new identities.

I was about to make sure they got new ones.

***

I watch as the car pulls up to the school, the two US Marshals getting out and walking straight toward the field. I watch both boys tense as they approach, but quickly start gathering their stuff and following after the Marshals.

All it took was an inquiring and suspicious phone call to the school about the boys, using bolt clippers to get into and trash their lockers, and the US Marshals moved quickly to start the process of erasing both boys and getting them moved to a secure location.

It didn't matter that there wasn't any real threat to them right now, they didn't know that. No one knew it was me who did these things to keep them moving. If I felt they were unsafe, I'd get them moved.

It wasn't as if I could just call up the Marshals and tell them that my family needed to be moved. I'm Nicolette Moore. I'm a bad guy. I'm considered one of the bad buys who are hunting down my family. It doesn't matter that none of it's true. Well, other than the bad guy part.

I watch as they load all their stuff up in the car. I watch as two more people get out of the car to greet the boys. To offer words of comfort and my heart constricts all over again.

I watch the man and woman help load everything into the car. I watch my parents comfort my brothers before getting back into the car. My brothers following after them.

I let out a long shaky sigh as I watch them. I remove my hood, staying in the shadows and run a hand through my hair, brushing my bangs back. I reach my hand up and wipe at the tears that haven't yet fallen.

I know I need to leave. I know the longer I'm here the more danger they're in, but I can't do it. I can't move.

Right before my brothers get into the car, one looks up. Looks across the street. Looks dead at me.

I see the recognition light up in his eyes. I see his surprise. I watch as his lips move to form a word, a name. Nicky.

I'm not the only one who notices. I see the US Marshals turn at his words. Their gaze following his, but I'm already running. My feet carrying me across the sidewalk and around the corner.