Imagine Me (Shatter Me #6) - Tahereh Mafi Page 0,48

Adam gave up.”

“Kent was a desperate idiot,” Warner says. “That he was ever willing to trust my father with James’s well-being tells you exactly how far gone he was.”

“He was desperate, but he’s not an idiot,” James says angrily, his eyes refilling with tears. “He loves me and he was just trying to keep me safe. I’m so worried about him. I’m so scared something happened to him. And I’m so scared Anderson did something awful to him.” James swallows, hard. “What are we going to do now? How are we going to get Adam and Juliette back?”

I squeeze my eyes shut, try to take deep breaths. “Listen, don’t stress about this, okay? We’re going to get them back. And when we do, I’m going to murder Adam myself.”

James gasps.

“Ignore him,” Warner says. “He doesn’t mean it.”

“Yes, I damn well do mean it.”

Warner pretends not to hear me. “According to the information I gathered just moments before you barged in here,” he says calmly, “it sounds like my father was holding court back in Sector 45, just as Sam predicated. But he won’t be there now, of that I’m certain.”

“How can you be certain of anything right now?”

“Because I know my father,” he says. “I know what matters most to him. And I know that when he left here, he was severely, gruesomely injured. There’s only one place he’d go in a state like that.”

I blink at him. “Where?”

“Oceania. Back to Maximillian Sommers, the only person capable of piecing him back together.”

That stops me dead. “Oceania? Please tell me you’re joking. We have to go back to Oceania?” I groan. “Dammit. That means we have to steal another plane.”

“We,” he says, irritated, “aren’t doing anything.”

“Of course we—”

Just then, the girls walk in. They come up short at the sight of me and Warner. Two sets of eyes blink at us.

“What are you doing here?” they ask at the same time.

Warner is on his feet in an instant. “I was just leaving.”

“I think you mean we were just leaving,” I say sharply.

Warner ignores me, nods at James, and heads for the door. I’m following him out of the room before I remember, suddenly—

“James,” I say, spinning around. “You’re going to be okay, you know that, right? We’re going to find Adam and bring him home and make all of this okay. Your job from here on out is to relax and eat chocolate and sleep. All right? Don’t worry about anything. Do you understand?”

James blinks at me. He nods.

“Good.” I step forward to plant a kiss on the top of his head. “Good,” I say again. “You’re going to be just fine. Everything is going to be fine. I’m going to make sure everything is fine, okay?”

James stares up at me. “Okay,” he says, wiping away the last of his tears.

“Good,” I say for the third time, and nod, still staring at his small, innocent face. “Okay, I’m going to go make that happen now. Cool?”

Finally, James smiles. “Cool.”

I smile back, giving him everything I’ve got, and then dart out the door, hoping to catch Warner before he tries to rescue J without me.

ELLA

JULIETTE

It is a relief not to speak.

Something changed between us this morning, something broke. Anderson seems relaxed in front of me in a way that seems unorthodox, but it’s not my business to question him. I’m honored to have this position, to be his most trusted supreme soldier, and that’s all that matters. Today is my first official day of work, and I’m happy to be here, even when he ignores me completely.

In fact, I enjoy it.

I find comfort in pretending to disappear. I exist only to shadow him as he moves from one task to another. I stand aside, staring straight ahead. I do not watch him as he works, but I feel him, constantly. He takes up all available space. I am attuned to his every movement, his every sound. It is my job now to know him completely, to anticipate his needs and fears, to protect him with my life, and to serve his interests entirely.

So I listen, for hours, to the details.

The creak of his chair as he leans back, considering. The sighs that escape him as he types. Leather chair and wool pants meeting, shifting. The dull thud of a ceramic mug hitting the surface of a wooden desk. The tinkle of crystal, the quick pour of bourbon. The sharp, sweet scent of tobacco and the rustle of tissue-thin paper. Keystrokes. A pen