AGENT 23 BLACKOUT (Agent 23 Book 1)

CHAPTER 13

"Aiden, I'm floored. I didn't know—I don't know what to say."

"There's not much to say," I reply. "Is what it is."

Kayla peers at me through misty eyes as she contemplates the unfortunate circumstances of my childhood. Solemnly, she wipes her hands over her jeans. As she does so, I notice an odd shape in one of her pockets. I remember feeling the object pressing into my lower back as I leaned against her earlier. It's about the size of a key fob, but Kayla said she didn't have a car when we were on the run from Agent 24. Besides that, the object is slightly bigger, shaped like an oblong oval. When my gaze lingers, her arms fall and she clutches her hands in front of her in the perfect spot to hide the object behind her wrist.

She turns away. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get out of this room."

As she stands there with her back to me, dallying like she's not sure what to do next, first I suspect the object is her phone, but it appears too small. I think about how Kayla has been around for all of my killer headaches, even the first one when I was strolling down the sidewalk, approaching Lattes. Even then, she was mere feet away from me. Then I had another headache near her bistro table. Unfortunately, I can't recall where her hands were when I stood there wondering why she was talking to me.

Why was Kayla Sims talking to me?

Were her hands positioned on top of the table or underneath, maybe near one of her front pockets? Near the mysterious object? It was at that bistro table where a calm alter ego took over me for a few unusual seconds.

As I ponder the peculiar nature of this evening, Kayla puts her hands behind her back, peering back at me strangely.

I roll the possibilities around in my mind. She was with me for the next headache when we entered the basement, and then she was present for the last one, here in the secret room. Of course, I hadn't noticed her around me much in the last two weeks as the headaches occurred randomly, but she could've been there somewhere. She could've been hiding. The times I remember being in the same room with her were during classes and occasionally in the evenings at the coffee shop.

She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her hands wringing against her palms. As she fidgets, I ask myself the most obvious questions: Can an electronic device cause my headaches? Is that a possibility? Is Kayla responsible for them? And is she trying to seize control of me and turn me into Agent 23?

The last question makes my insides quiver, but it all adds up.

"What are you hiding, Kayla?"

She turns around and her eyes lock onto me. "What are you talking about?"

"You're acting so nervous," I say. "Why did you turn away from me? And why are you concealing that device in your pocket with your hand?"

"I'm not hiding anything."

"Really?"

"Really," she replies.

I raise my chin. "Prove it."

Kayla moves her hand and shows me the outline of the object in the pocket of her jeans. "See. Nothing to hide."

"What is that?" I jab a finger at her.

"It's my phone."

"Your phone is in your back pocket."

Her cheeks redden, and she shakes her head.

"I never would have suspected you, Kayla, of all people."

"Suspected me of what?"

My mouth flies open, but it takes a few seconds to get my next words out. When my accusation comes, it's sharp and to the point, like a dagger out for blood. "It was you all along. You've been causing my headaches with that device in your pocket." I point at the object again. "Haven't you, Kayla?"