Chapter 25: Getting Closer

Selena's POV

"David!" I screamed into the darkness.

A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind. I spun around, ready to fight.

"It's me," David whispered. "Don't make noise."

Relief flooded through me. "I thought you were dead."

"Not yet. But we need to move. Now."

He pulled me toward a side door I hadn't seen before. Behind the altar, hidden in shadow.

"What about my father?"

"He got out the back. Father Martinez helped him."

"But the blood on the floor..."

"One of the attackers. I had to stop him before he reached you."

We slipped through the side door into a narrow hallway. David was limping badly.

"You're hurt," I said.

"I'll live. Keep walking."

But I could see blood soaking through his shirt. A lot of blood.

We reached the end of the hallway. Another door led outside to an alley.

"My car is three blocks away," David said. "Can you make it?"

"Can you?"

He tried to smile but winced in pain instead. "I've been worse."

We stepped into the alley. The night air was cold. In the distance, sirens wailed. Police and fire trucks heading to the church.

David took two steps and collapsed.

"David!" I caught him before he hit the ground.

His face was pale. Too pale. The bleeding was getting worse.

"I'm okay," he lied.

"No, you're not. We need to get you to a hospital."

"Too dangerous. They'll be watching hospitals."

"Then where?"

David pulled a key from his pocket. "Safe house. Two blocks north. Blue door."

I helped him stand. He leaned heavily on my shoulder. Each step was harder than the last.

"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt this bad?"

"Because you would have tried to help. And helping me gets you killed."

"I'm already helping you."

"That's the problem."

We walked slowly through the empty streets. Every shadow could hide an enemy. Every sound could mean danger.

"David, at the church... when the lights went out... I couldn't tell if it was really you who grabbed my arm."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone whispered 'this way.' But the voice sounded different."

David stopped walking. "Different how?"

"Softer. Like a woman."

"That's impossible. There were no women with the attackers."

"Are you sure?"

He thought for a moment. "Actually, no. I'm not sure of anything anymore."

We reached the safe house. David's hands shook as he tried to unlock the door.

"Let me," I said.

I took the key from him. Our fingers touched for just a second. Even hurt and bleeding, his touch sent electricity through me.

The door opened. Inside was a simple apartment. One room with a bed, a small kitchen, and a bathroom.

"Sit," I ordered.

David collapsed onto the bed. "First aid kit is in the bathroom cabinet."

I found the kit and brought it back. His shirt was soaked with blood.

"I need to see the wound."

"Selena..."

"Take off your shirt."

"This isn't a good idea."

"You're bleeding to death. It's the only idea."

David slowly pulled his shirt over his head. The bullet had gone through his side, just below his ribs. Still bleeding but not fatal.

"You're lucky," I said. "It missed everything important."

"Doesn't feel lucky."

I opened the first aid kit. Antiseptic, bandages, surgical tape. Everything I needed.

"This is going to hurt."

"I know."

I poured antiseptic on a cloth and pressed it to the wound. David gritted his teeth but didn't make a sound.

"Why do you do that?" I asked.

"Do what?"

"Never show pain. Never show fear. Never show anything."

"Because showing feelings gets you killed in my line of work."

"But you're not at work right now."

"I'm always at work when I'm with you."

I pressed the cloth harder against his wound. This time he did gasp.

"Are you trying to hurt me?" he asked.

"I'm trying to save your life. There's a difference."

I cleaned the wound carefully. His skin was warm under my fingers. Too warm. He had a fever.

"David, this might be infected."

"Just bandage it."

"You need antibiotics."

"I need to keep you alive. Everything else comes second."

I looked at his face. Even pale and sweating, he was beautiful. Strong jaw. Dark eyes that saw everything. Scars that told stories he'd never share.

"Why?" I asked.

"Why what?"

"Why does keeping me alive matter so much to you?"

David was quiet for a long moment. I wrapped bandages around his torso. My hands moved slowly. I didn't want this moment to end.

"At first it was just a job," he said finally.

"And now?"

"Now it's personal."

"Because of Morrison? Because of what he made you do?"

"Because of what you made me feel."

The words hung in the air between us. I finished tying the bandage and looked up at him.

"What do I make you feel?"

"Human."

Our faces were inches apart. I could feel his breath on my skin. His eyes searched mine.

"David..."

"I know this is crazy. I know I'm the last person you should trust. I know I've done terrible things."

"But?"

"But when I'm with you, I remember what it was like to be good."

My heart pounded. This was dangerous. Falling for David was like jumping off a cliff.

But maybe I was ready to fall.

I reached out and touched his face. His skin was hot from fever.

"You are good," I whispered. "You just forgot for a while."

He closed his eyes and leaned into my touch.

"Selena, if we do this... if we cross this line... there's no going back."

"Maybe I don't want to go back."

"Your father will kill me."

"My father isn't here."

"Morrison will use it against us."

"Morrison can try."

David opened his eyes. The wall he always kept up was cracking.

"I'm dying," he said quietly.

"No, you're not. The wound isn't that bad."

"Not from the bullet. From the cancer."

My heart stopped. "What?"

"I have maybe six months left. Eight if I'm lucky."

"That's impossible. You're too strong. Too tough."

"Cancer doesn't care how tough you are."

Tears filled my eyes. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't want you to look at me the way you're looking at me right now."

"How am I looking at you?"

"Like I'm already dead."

I wiped my eyes and took his hands in mine. "I'm looking at you like you're alive. Right here. Right now. With me."

"Selena..."

"Six months is still six months. That's enough time for a lot of things."

"Like what?"

"Like this."

I leaned forward and kissed him.

It was soft at first. Gentle. But then his arms came around me and pulled me closer. The kiss deepened. All the fear, all the anger, all the confusion of the past weeks poured into that moment.

When we broke apart, we were both breathing hard.

"That was a mistake," he said.

"Probably."

"We're going to get each other killed."

"Maybe."

"I should leave. Right now. Before this gets worse."

"But you won't."

"No. I won't."

He pulled me down onto the bed next to him. I curled up against his uninjured side. His heart beat steady and strong under my ear.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"Now we figure out who's trying to kill us and why."

"And then?"

"Then we stop them."

"And after that?"

"After that... I don't know. I've never planned past the next mission before."

"Well, you better start planning. Because I'm not letting you die on me."

David's arm tightened around me. "Promise me something."

"What?"

"If it comes down to choosing between saving me and saving yourself... choose yourself."

"Never."

"Selena..."

"Never. We save each other or we don't get saved at all."

He was quiet for a moment. Then: "You're going to get me killed."

"And you're going to get me killed."

"Probably."

"Good. At least we'll die together."

I felt him smile against my hair. "You're crazy."

"You make me crazy."

We lay there in silence. For the first time in weeks, I felt safe. Protected. Like nothing could hurt us as long as we were together.

Then my phone rang.

I looked at the screen. Unknown number.

"Don't answer it," David said.

But I was already reaching for the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Selena." A woman's voice. Familiar but wrong somehow.

"Who is this?"

"Your mother."

"Mom? Where are you? We've been trying to find you."

"No, sweetheart. Not that mother. Your real mother."

The room started spinning. "What are you talking about?"

"Maria isn't your biological mother. She never was."

"That's impossible."

"Is it? Think about it. Do you look like her? Act like her? Have any of her talents?"

I did think about it. And suddenly everything clicked into place.

"Who... who are you?"

"I'm the woman who gave birth to you twenty-six years ago. I'm the woman who's been watching you your whole life."

"Where are you?"

"Closer than you think."

The line went dead.

David was staring at me. "What was that about?"

"Someone claiming to be my real mother."

"That's impossible. Maria is your mother."

"Is she?"

Before David could answer, the lights went out.

In the darkness, I heard the front door open.

Footsteps. Multiple people entering the safe house.

"Well, well," came a voice from the doorway. "Isn't this cozy?"

The lights came back on.

Three figures stood in the apartment. All wearing masks.

The one in front pulled off her mask.

It was Maria. My mother. Except she was pointing a gun at us.

"Hello, children," she said. "Time for the truth."