The Isthmus Company: Part II

By Samantha Boulton

For years, he had been employed as a puppet of Isthmus. Why this girl should think differently of him was simply baffling. She had seen everything that he had done in the past few months. True, he was here of his own accord, not Ishmus's, but she could not possibly know that. Pondering the thought, he nearly tripped over another crack in the sid

• Language: English
• Publisher: Book Vine Press
• Release date: May 11, 2020
• ISBN: 9781950955763

Samantha Boulton

Samantha Boulton is from a small town that you've probably never heard of in the middle of Pennsylvania. Her first book, The Isthmus Company was released on November 26, 2013. She began the story while sitting in a math class her senior year of high school with the intention that no one should ever lay eyes on it. Since then, she has spent her time in classes the rest of high school and to this point in college, avoiding the gaze of her teachers as she scribbled down pieces of the story into a notebook or on a napkin during a break at her job. Currently, she is endeavoring to finish the last 5 books in the series that The Isthmus Company began.

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Copyright © 2020 by Samantha Boulton.

ISBN 978-1-952835-00-1 (softcover)

ISBN 978-1-950955-76-3 (ebook)

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Printed in the United States of America.

Book Vine Press

2516 Highland Dr.

Palatine, IL 60067

Jas

Eoin Lanahan

Kidnapping

Rings

Sweepers

Snow

Riley

Family

Addictions

Snapped

Escape

Charges

Waiting

Meeting

Taillights

Checkmate

Jas

The sun seemed too bright. That was Tag’s first thought as he tried to open his eyes. It shouldn’t be that bright, even if he was sleeping on Tryp’s sofa. As he thought about it, he couldn’t recall returning to his apartment, so he must still be on Tryp’s sofa. But he didn’t remember returning to Tryp’s house, either.

Suddenly very nervous, he opened his eyes. The harsh light stung his eyes and caused colorful spots in his vision. He was still sitting in his car, where he last remembered being. His eyes moved to the window, where he was hoping to find that he was merely sitting in Tryp’s driveway, as had happened when he passed out without getting out of the car before. But it was the middle of a long stretch of road with woods off to the side that he found himself. Sunny must have been too tired to drive and pulled off to the side of the road to sleep a little while, reasoned Tag as he glanced over at the driver’s seat. But it was empty.

Tag looked around the car wildly until his eyes caught on a white square on his shorts. He picked up the slip of paper and stared at it blankly for a moment before he read the words. Please be careful. I am so sorry. Love, Sunny.

Tryp! Tag shouted, unable to control his voice.

Tryp bolted upright in the back seat, nearly hitting his head off the ceiling of the car. Tag! What the-?

Sunny’s gone! Tag cut in before Tryp could finish.

What do you mean ‘Sunny’s gone’? asked Tryp groggily. His question was answered when Tag shoved the piece of paper in his face. He scanned it quickly and looked up at Tag’s worried face. I figured that this was going to happen eventually.

Tag pushed his hand through his hair, muttering a string of curses under his breath. If he was being honest with himself, he would have admitted that he had suspected Sunny would try to run away eventually. He was actually surprised that she hadn’t done it sooner. What do we do now? He pressed his forehead against the dashboard, determined not to look out the window again. If he looked out the window, he might find footprints in the snow. If he found footprints, he would be obligated to follow them and he might find Sunny. As much as he had enjoyed her company over the past few months, most of his mind told him that he never wanted to see that girl again.

What do we do now? Tag asked again, smacking his head off the dashboard in his frustration.

Tryp caught the collar of Tag’s shirt, nearly choking him until he stopped moving his head toward the dashboard. We don’t tell Isthmus, of course, Tryp replied, as though this was the most obvious course of action.

Tag did not protest. He was really beginning to like his life and didn’t want to end it any time soon.

Chances are that he already knows that she’s gone. Someone somewhere had to have seen her. We’ll have to call someone and ask if she’s been found yet. If she’s been found we’re screwed and there’s no way around it. But if she hasn’t been found, I have a plan. We need to move now. I’ll drive and you call Juniper, Tryp said as he jumped over the seat and gunned the engine.

In Tag’s opinion, Tryp was being far too calm about everything that was happening. With shaking hands, Tag found his cell phone under his shoe. He dialed Juniper’s number, all the while praying that Juniper would be close enough to his phone to hear it ringing. As soon as he heard the line connect, he began to talk before Juniper could utter a greeting. Juniper! Where are you right now?

The office. Where the heck are you? he asked, irritated. Because Tag had not been home, he and Alex were forced to walk to work and had been late and were berated for it.

Tag glanced out the window reluctantly. All he could make out was that they were speeding down the road somewhere between the pier and Tryp’s house. Good question, he replied evasively. Don’t read too much into this, but is Sunny with you?

What?! Juniper yelled.

Tag hoped that they were just sitting in their empty office and not on the middle of one of the other floors where they would attract too much attention from other employees. Is Sunny there with you? he asked again, gathering by the reaction that she was not. Still, he needed to hear it said conclusively.

What are you staring at? Just go do your freakin’ job! Juniper yelled at someone. His voice lowered before he responded to Tag’s question. No. Isn’t she with you?

Of course she’s not with us! Tag snapped. Tryp says he has a plan. If anyone asks, you haven’t heard from us.

Where are you going? Juniper asked just to clarify it for himself.

Hell if I know, Tag replied. Just be careful and call if you find out anything. He hung up the phone and stowed it in his pocket.

It was some time before Tag realized that Tryp was not going into the city. Though he had no idea where Tryp was going, he thought it better than to ask. Finally, he did ask about something else he had been wondering. Do you think she’s going to be alright? She was only wearing a thin jacket.

Tryp thought about it for a moment. She’s resourceful; I think she’ll be okay as long as no one catches up to her. And she’s got her passport. He was barely paying attention and had to swerve to avoid a slower car. His mind was already several thousand miles away, where he could only speculate that Sunny would think to go. How he wished he was wrong.

What?

I had a set of ID’s and travel documents made for her when I realized that she was going to be here for a while. I told her that she always needs to have her passport on her, just in case something should happen and we had to leave in a hurry. She’s been carrying it in one of her boots, Tryp responded coolly.

When they turned off the main road, Tag realized where they were. They were going down the dirt road to the Company hangar. Tryp whipped the car into the hangar, where they had so often parked. Thank you! he exclaimed when he saw the plane sitting in the hangar. There was also a pilot reclining in a chair in the control room. Tryp and Tag hopped out of the car as soon as it was parked. Tryp locked the doors and pocketed the keys as he approached the pilot. Excuse me. Can you please take us to Pennsylvania? Now? he asked politely, though there was a tone of urgency to his inquiry.

The pilot looked at them, befuddled. Then he did what most people in the Company did whenever approached. He drew his gun and pointed it at Tag and Tryp. Why should I do that? Who are you?

Tag pulled out his wallet, glad that he had his Company I.D. Tryp found his in his pocket as well. Senior Collectors Tag Jones and Tryp Marxon. Let’s go now, Tag said sharply, motioning to the plane.

The pilot jumped out of his chair, keeping his finger on the trigger of his gun as he moved closer to examine their identification. When he was satisfied, he moved toward the plane. Tag and Tryp followed only half a step behind the pilot. Tryp even went so far as to go to the cockpit and sit with the pilot. Part of the reason was so that he could instruct the pilot on exactly where they wanted to go, but also so that he was sure that the pilot did not contact Isthmus. The pilot never questioned Tryp, for fear of being reported to Isthmus by a senior officer.

Tag was left to sit in the cabin, his mind reeling. As much as he wanted the plane to go faster, he knew that thinking about it would do nothing. And as much as he wanted to know what Tryp was planning, he knew Tryp would not speak of it while they were in a place under Company control.

When they touched down at the unfortunately familiar hangar, it was light outside. There were no Company cars at the hangar when they got there. Of all the things they had done recently, waiting for a cab was one of the most nerve-wracking. While they were waiting, they saw no employees lingering, which was something that they were worried about. If they didn’t see the employees they knew were based in this area, they could be out looking for Sunny while they were stuck there waiting for a cab.

Tag was growing anxious. If Sunny ran into one of Isthmus’ employees, he doubted her ability to keep her composure and defend herself. He remembered how she had reacted whenever things turned sour in Oceania. But then again, he was sure that if Justin hadn’t drugged her, she could have taken him in a fight.

The cab driver did not drive fast enough for their comfort, either, but they tried not to dwell on it. Tryp explained the only part of the plan that he had taken the time to develop in two simple words. Find Sunny, he whispered to Tag.

That’s the plan you’ve been thinking about for the past twelve hours?! Tag demanded. He should have known better than to expect some elaborate scheme from Tryp when he knew that Tryp usually improvised. He took a few calming breaths and turned his head to look out the window.

Tryp paid the driver and yanked Tag out of the cab.

Tag looked down the streets. Why do you think that she’d even come back here? She’s smart enough to know that this is the first place we’d look for her.

She’s also smart enough to know that, if she left her dad here, Isthmus would take out his wrath on him, Tryp explained. I’ve got an idea, but you go look around town.

Tryp turned down the nearest alley and moved in the opposite direction of Tag. Tag started down the main street, throwing so many glances over his shoulder that he must have looked as though he had a nervous tic. But there was no one around him.

There were more cracks in the sidewalk than Tag remembered from his previous trip and he stumbled over many of them. Once, he fell over one of the larger cracks that he didn’t see until his foot was already snagged in it. Even after that, he couldn’t compel himself to look down, save for when he was scanning an alley. He was half-expecting to see Tryp laying in one of those alleys, bleeding out from bullet wound. Or perhaps he was expecting to see Sunny incapacitated in one of those alleys.

It seemed impossible as Tag thought about how many windows he looked in. Behind one of them, he kept telling himself, he would see someone he recognized. But the hours were ticking by. Every so often, Tag would spare a glance at his watch. With her head start and all of the time differences, Sunny had been missing for over a day and a half. He had been scouring the town for almost six hours without hearing a word from Tryp.

He jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen. Who would be calling him, but Isthmus himself. Tag muttered a lengthy string of curses. He considered just letting it go to voicemail, but didn’t think the consequences would be worth it. When he answered the call, he held it away from his ear, for he knew what was about to happen.

"Mr. Jones, where the hell are you?!" Isthmus demanded in a booming voice.

Tag was a little surprised that Isthmus had taken the care to call him from home. At the very least, it was disconcerting. Pennsylvania, sir, he replied honestly. He knew it was imperative that he keep his manners.

Is Mr. Marxon with you? he snapped. By precedence, he could surmise the answer.

In a manner of speaking, yes, sir.

Is the Collateral with you?

In spite of being stressed beyond his wits, he could not stop himself from responding, "Miss DelSegno is not with us at the moment, sir."

Why? Isthmus growled, his voice getting softer.

Tag could see Isthmus’ face glowing a terrifying shade of red. Swallowing again, he replied, Because she got away from us. Mr. Marxon and I are already looking for her. We will find her, sir.

You’d better, Isthmus snarled, slamming the phone back on the receiver.

As Tag hung up the phone, he had to resist the urge to pelt it against the brick wall he was walking beside. His hand ached with the effort to keep it steady.

Four more hours of walking passed. It was nine o’clock and his stomach started to ache with the lack of food. It happened on his mind that he had not eaten anything since before he went to the gym. Even now, he could not bring himself to stop looking long enough to find something to eat.

He stepped into the main square of the town, still scanning the windows along the sidewalk until he saw something that made him stop in mid-step and conspicuously turn toward the window. There was something behind it that caught his eye, though it was majoritarily obscured by a large sign. There was a hand gripping the back of a chair; it bore a very familiar silver ring with emeralds on it in the shape of a clover.

The sound of a car door closing loudly brought his attention back to the street. He looked around wildly. Across the square, he saw two people; both of whom he knew that he had seen before. He was thoroughly certain that one was Harrison and the other Rex Anderson, both from the foreign surveillance unit.

Jones! a voice called from behind him.

Tag did not turn around, but pretended to check his phone. He stood resolutely in front of the window, hoping to obscure the hand from view.

Jones! The voice said again. This time there was a sharp hand on his shoulder.

Tag turned his head to look at the man. There was no way he could feign ignorance. Too many times he had met with this man inside of a gym. Bertenoulli? he asked apprehensively.

I’ve been trying to call you for a month now. Every time that I do you never answer. Why is that, Jones? Bertenoulli demanded. On his breath was the overwhelming stench of vodka that actually made Tag recoil half a step.

Because I haven’t had the time to take calls. I actually have a job other than boxing, responded Tag. Things seemed to be working to his advantage. He would just cause a scene in front of the window. Certainly Sunny could not spend that much time doing whatever it was that held her in that building. Sorry, he said insincerely.

I’ll bet you’re sorry. You’ll be sorry when I beat you down right here!

You really want to start something right now? Tag demanded, putting more emotion in his voice than he felt. He didn’t care if this man was trying to start a fight. If he had been on leisure, he might have just agreed to find a gym when Bertenoulli sobered. Because I can take you. Any time. But I’m busy and you’re drunk.

I don’t care if you’re busy, Bertenoulli said sharply, not denying that he was intoxicated.

Tag turned to walk away, though he knew that Bertenoulli wouldn’t let him get more than half a step before he took a swing. It connected with Tag’s jaw, though there was not as much power behind it as there would have been if Bertenoulli was sober. Tag did what he always did when someone started a fight with him; he took it. Tag allowed him to throw a few punches before he retaliated. The pace was slower than any of the matches he usually fought in, which made it easy to keep up with.

That was, until yelling interrupted it. Break it up! someone yelled. There was a hand on the collar of Tag’s jacket that yanked him away from Bertenoulli. Tag felt his back hit the window in front of which they had been fighting.

There was a very muscular, middle-aged uniformed man with a moustache staring him in the face. What’s going on here, son? the man demanded of Tag, pushing Tag’s shoulder against the window so as to discourage more of the fighting.

He took a swing at me; I was just defending myself, Tag said, taking a few deep breaths. It amazed him how much more winding it was to try to fight a disorganized drunk man than to fight a sober, well-trained professional.

Son, have you been drinking today? the officer asked, looking at Tag’s eyes.

No, sir, I am perfectly sober. He appears to be really drunk, though, Tag said, motioning to Bertenoulli, who was struggling against another police officer.

What’s your name?

Tag Jones, sir, he responded politely.

Well, we’re going to have to take you into the station and get this whole mess figured out. You caused a public disturbance and we don’t tolerate hooligans running about. Hands behind your back, the officer instructed as he withdrew the handcuffs from his belt.

Sighing, Tag put his hands behind his back. There was a familiar click as the handcuffs closed around his wrist. As he was being escorted to the cruiser, he threw a glance at the window. She was gone.

Tag Jones, the bailiff called into the cell. Everyone in the cell looked up, including Bertenoulli. Tag, however, kept staring blankly at the wall, as he had been doing for the past few hours. His phone, keys and everything else in his pockets had been confiscated upon his arrival at the police station; all he had been left to do was to sit and think, which was worse than any punishment that the law could think to offer.

Tag Jones, the bailiff called again, his dry voice chaffing at the edge of anyone’s good humour.

Tag was not even remotely curious about why his name was being called until he heard a few men in the cell wolf-whistle. What? Tag demanded, too irritated to care about his tone.

You’re free to leave, the bailiff said curtly, sliding the key into the door of the cell and opening it only a fraction of an inch until Tag sprang to his feet and nearly ran to it. He still could not see what all the noise was about. The bailiff ushered him out into the hallway, to the glares of those who had been sitting in the cell longer than he had been.

As Tag turned to walk down the hall, he noticed what had been the cause of the liveliness. He had to do a double-take, as he had done when he passed the window earlier. His eyes must have been playing some cruel trick on him. In a minute or so, he would snap out of his daze and realize that he was still staring at the wall of the cell.

Sunny stood in front of him, looking just as alive as he had ever seen her. Her eyes flicked back to the cell as a look of recognition came across her face when she looked at one of the young men. The young man looked up at her, a sloppy smile on his face. Sunny! Ain’t seen you in a while. Where you been? he asked, some of his words slurring together.

I’ve been away. What about you, Tommy? Ain’t Jess got you straightened out yet?

Not yet, but boy, does she keep trying, Tommy replied.

Tag stared at her blankly. He had not expected her to come, but he was more surprised that she actually knew someone else in the jail. To him, she didn’t seem the type to associate with anyone who could land themself in jail. Before she came to the Company, at least.

Tommy’s eyes travelled to Tag. That your new boyfriend? How’s Jas feel about that?

He isn’t my boyfriend. And you know dang well that Jas and I ain’t together, she said sternly, as though this was a point that she had been forced to make many times before.

DelSegno, are you going to get going or are you going to make me have to call your pa and get him down here to pick you up? the bailiff snapped at Sunny.

You don’t have to call my pa. We’re leaving now, sir, she responded instantly. Good seeing you again, Tommy, she added over her shoulder.

They followed the officer down the hall. Sunny glanced up at Tag expectantly.

Never had he been so disappointed to see those green eyes watching him. Sunny, what are you doing here? he asked nervously. Despite still being in the police station, he shot a glance over his shoulder. Half the Company is scouring the world for you.

Tryp called me. And I just happened to have six hundred dollars. He said he was busy, so I said I’d come, she whispered, conscious of how close the bailiff was walking in front of them. You used your one call on Tryp? What were you thinking?

I was thinking about how much of my paycheck I used to use to bail him out and how many times I represented him in court without charging him. He owes me, Tag muttered angrily. He should have known better than to call you and you should have known better than to come.

Geez, I hauled my ass the whole way across town to bail you out of jail and I don’t even get a thank you? Sunny said, looking up at Tag as they stepped through a door out into the lobby.

Thank you, bunny, Tag said under his breath as he stepped to the desk to retrieve his keys, wallet, phone, and all of the other things that had been confiscated from his pockets.

The police officer behind the desk leaned around Tag to look at Sunny. Sunny, are you sure that you want to be bailing this boy out?

Sunny glanced at Tag, who was now watching her reaction, then at the officer. Yes, sir. Commissioner Brack, this is my…friend, Tag Jones.

Commissioner Brack stepped out from behind the desk and scrutinized Tag for a moment. He shook his head slowly. Sunny, where have you been? There was a missing persons report filed on you months ago. You haven’t showed up to work on the farm in that long and Max and Jason said they haven’t heard from you since then.

She fixed her eyes on the tiled floor. She hated lying to Commissioner Brack, but she couldn’t possibly tell him the truth. I ran away, she said in a small voice.

Sunny, I’ve known you since you were little. I know you didn’t run away, Commissioner Brack said as he surveyed her. Every person that he had interviewed suspected that Sunny would not run away. What kind of trouble did you get yourself into?

Commissioner Brack’s hand on her shoulder made her look up from the floor. She squirmed uncomfortably. She very much wanted to clarify that this entire incident wasn’t her fault, but to do so she would have to divulge too many details. She didn’t have nearly enough money to bail Tag out of jail again.

Commissioner Brack surveyed Sunny’s expression carefully. Listen, Sunny. I know that you’re a good kid. I’m sure that whatever happened was just a mistake. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, he said in a weighted voice.

I’m not sure what’s going on, sir. Someone made some really bad decisions and I was the one that got screwed over by them, Sunny admitted, much to the Commissioner’s surprise.

Is this somethin’ you got into with Max and Jason? he asked cautiously. I know that those boys can get in a fair amount of trouble and you’re always right along with them.

No, sir. Max and Jas don’t have anything to do with it, Sunny replied respectfully.

Commissioner Brack kept his eyes on her face. He was trying to discern whether Sunny was lying to protect her friends, as she had done several times before. Is your dad in some sort of trouble?

Tag’s eyes flicked to the window in the front of the police station. As interested as he was to see the people that Sunny knew before her arrival at the Company, he did not wish to allow her to remain out in the open for much longer. He was unsure of just what connections the Isthmus Company had in this town. If there were any of those connections in this precinct, this was going to get both himself and Sunny killed.

Sunny’s eyes dropped to the floor again. I think that everything’s going to be okay now, she lied. She knew that there was going to be fallout and she worried that it was going to start soon. Her heart raced when she thought about it. And there came one thing about which she was resolved: keep as many people out of the crossfire as possible. I really better be getting on home, or else I’m gonna be in a whole lot more trouble. Thanks for everything, Commissioner.

He tensed. He knew that there was much more that Sunny wasn’t telling him. But, as she had done when she found herself in a great deal of trouble with Max and Jason, she was stonewalling. He knew that it was useless to try to force her to tell him any more details, for she would just lie. Instead, he gave her a quick hug and patted her on the back. Do you want one of my officers to drive you home? he offered.

No, thanks. But could you tell Max that I missed him? Sunny said as she started toward the door. She had to grab Tag’s hand and pull him along behind her, for he did not move. He was too busy wrapped up in his own thoughts.

Yes, I will. Will you please be careful? If you need anything, you have my phone number, Commissioner Brack said as they slunk out the door.

Once they were outside, Tag was surprised at how grateful he was for the open air. As he looked up into the sky, he was amazed to see that the streetlights didn’t obscure the stars. His mind was distracted from the beauty of the heavens as he thought about reality. Why did you come? Are you mental or just some sort of masochist? You shouldn’t be bailing your kidnapper out of jail, he said sternly. All logic should have had her putting as much distance between them as physically possible. It’s not that I’m not grateful, but I’m starting to seriously question your sanity. What makes you think that I won’t take you back to the Company right now?

Sunny’s laughter alarmed Tag even more. You are a lot of things, Tag Jones, but I know you well enough to know that you’re not Isthmus’ puppet. To Tag’s incredulous expression, she replied, If I thought you were just his tool, I would’ve been at the police station to tell Commissioner Brack everything that’s happened, not to post your bail.

Tag was beside himself. For years he had been employed as a puppet of Isthmus. Why this girl should think differently of him was simply baffling. She had seen everything that he had done in the past few months. True, he was here of his own accord, not Isthmus’, but she could not possibly know that. Pondering the thought, he nearly tripped over another crack in the sidewalk. If Isthmus knew exactly what he was doing right now…He did not want to finish the thought.

"That and my dad still owes Isthmus a few million dollars. It’s not like he’s going to forget that debt. Not to mention, he wouldn’t send just you to recollect the Collateral," she said darkly. As much as she hated it, she knew it was never going to end until her father could pay. As far as she knew, that was not going to be any time soon.

Tag hooked his hand onto Sunny’s elbow and pulled her into the shadows between two buildings. Rex Anderson was walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the street. He didn’t seem to notice them slipping into the darkness.

Sunny stared at Tag quizzically. She could not see his face in the darkness, though they were nose to nose. Tag could not see her reaction, either. I know this is a bad time, he began awkwardly. But do you want to go get dinner with me? It’s just that I haven’t eaten anything since before we went to the gym.

Yeah; I actually haven’t eaten since I was in Nashville, she said with a smile that Tag could not see.

Nashville? he asked.

Tennessee, honey, she replied condescendingly. It’s a really long story.

Okay. Is there even any place to eat in this town? he asked, peering out of the alley at the faces of the buildings around them. Every business bore someone’s last name as their title, but none of them bore any signs describing what each contained, which he found to be quite irksome.

Hey, just because this town’s small doesn’t mean there’s nothing here, Sunny said defensively, glancing out of the alley as well. She didn’t realize how much she missed the town until she had returned to it. But it’s past nine, which means most places are closed by now.

Tag raised an eyebrow as he inched back toward the lighted streets and re-examined the buildings around them. What exactly is here?

Churches, bars, a few restaurants, Sunny replied slowly as she thought of all the buildings in the town. Laughing, she added, Okay, so it is kind of lame. But you know what we don’t have?

Anything to do on a Friday night? Tag suggested as they stepped into the pool of light under one of the tall street lamps.

Sunny swatted his shoulder, but then she smiled. We also don’t have the crime rate your city has.

Tag shrugged. How could the town have a crime rate when there are only ten citizens? he thought cynically. Smiling, he glanced down at the top of Sunny’s head. She seemed tenser now than when she was at the Company.

Tag looked up just in time to meet a fist with his face. There was a loud crack as the bones in his nose broke. He staggered backward, trying to keep his balance on the uneven sidewalk. He looked around for the assailant. His eyes were blurred from the hit and he could only just make out the outline of someone standing in front of him.

Jas! Sunny squealed, pushing the boy who hit Tag back half a step. He glared at Tag over the top of her head. What the hell?! Tag, are you alright? she asked over her shoulder, still pushing back against the chest of the boy who was five inches taller than she.

Tag tried to catch some of the blood from his nose before it stained the front of his jacket. Yeah, he responded to Sunny, for she looked frantic. Actually, I probably deserved that one, he offered, his eyes roving over the face of the boy glaring back at him. He tipped his hand to drain some of the blood from it, which dripped to the ground as he continued to study the boy. Some of his features seemed familiar for a reason that he couldn’t place. He had done a lot of things to deserve a broken nose. He was just unsure of which of those things that this boy had chosen for justification of his action.

The boy did not hear a word that Tag spoke. He withdrew all of his attention to Sunny, who he wrapped his arms around as though this was something he had wanted to do for a long time. Sunny! he breathed, his lips brushing against her hair gently.

Oh my gosh, Jas! Sunny leaned her face against his chest, closing her eyes and winding her arms around his torso. After all these months, she could not believe where she was. She was unaware of