Dropping Like Spies - A Gallagher Girls Story

Time for a Sneak Peak

Hey all! Just wanted to take the time to thank you all again for reading. The support has been phenomenal. I am so proud to be a part of a fandom where girls support girls every single day. As a thank you, I present to you the first chapter of book 4 in the Listen Series The Sleuth Will Set You Free. This is an unfinished chapter that may go through some more editing before we get the final product, but for now, please enjoy!

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"And... toss."

They were the same two words that I'd been hearing for weeks now. Toss, stretch, reach, push-all the things that can make a girl's scabs blister and pop. The dented blue ball felt heavier than it should have as I threw it to my doctor. She caught it, examining the strength behind it before scribbling something down on her clipboard. "That was a good one," she said. "You're getting stronger."

I nodded.

Doctor Alex and I had become good friends over the break, which probably had something to do with the fact that we had been stuck in the same room together for days on end. Sometimes a stray Blackthorne Boy would wander in with a sprained wrist or fat lip, but even that had become less frequent, mostly because none of the boys wanted to be in the same room as a pissed off Zachary Goode.

You know how they say that mama bears are at their most powerful when their cubs are threatened? Yeah, well, mama bears have got nothing on my father. After dock twelve, I was put into lockdown at Blackthorne. Think Secret Service, but with Joe Solomon. I had the power of the CIA's best at my back and they weren't going to let anyone forget it.

And then there was Matt. After news broke out, he had made the trip across the pond to his alma mater. I remembered when he first walked into the infirmary wing. When he first saw me. He hugged me so tight that the doctor had to remind him that my back was all stitched up, which, I'll admit, was a massive relief. I didn't have the heart to tell him to let to. To say that every second he held on was another second I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Another second when the world seemed to go black and my heart started to run. I couldn't let him touch me-couldn't let anyone touch me.

Not that it mattered much. I think they started to give up after day four or five.

Sure, they visited for Thanksgiving. Christmas. New Years. When he stood up to use the bathroom, I could see Dad just outside of the infirmary, always hovering somewhere within a five-yard radius. But it wasn't how it should've been. Something was wrong, I'd think, and then I remember that something was me.

"Scale of one to ten?" Doctor Alex asked, tucking her clipboard into its permanent place under her arm.

She asked me this question at least ten times a day. Rate my pain on a scale from one to ten. Piece of cake. I held up six fingers, which was an improvement from yesterday's eight.

She wrote this down. The sound of scribbles bounced off the bare walls, reminding me just how big that room really was. "That's good news," she said. "But remember that there are ups and downs. Tomorrow could very well be a nine."

I nodded.

That was what I liked about Doctor Alex. I mean, granted, my knowledge of doctors is pretty much just an accumulation of what I've seen in melodramatic primetime dramas, but from what I can gather, they're always hellbent on delivering good news. There's still hope. Stay positive. Laughter is the best medicine. Blah, blah, blah.

Doctor Alex wasn't like that. She gave it to me straight, which was exactly what I needed. No more hidden motives, no more shady truths-just simple clarity. I just needed clarity.