Cooper.

Nine.

"Oh shit!" Delilah yells out as we all bolt out of the mall, tearing through the parking lot, three mall cops chasing after us.

"Faster!" Frank crows, pulling his keys out of his pockets and handing them discreetly to Alec. "Get the car and meet us on the end of Shelley. They can't follow us that far."

Alec nods, ducking between two enormous black pickups. Then he's gone.

"So maybe we shouldn't skateboard down the escalators?" Frank laughs as we run. He tosses a glance over his shoulder as we reach the limits of the parking lot. I look backwards as well, and Frank and I slow down. The others get a little ahead of us before realizing that we'd stopped.

"We're all good." I announce, fully turned around and standing on my tip toes, watching as the white-clad mall cops sulked back into the mall. That's got to be an awful job - catching shoplifters and chasing rude teenagers all day.

I feel a momentary pang of guilt, but that pang is replaced with annoyance and fear as the sound of a helicopter nearing the mall fills my ears.

We all turn our attention to the top of the Kipling Mall, and my heart leaps into my throat as I notice an enormous, glowing blue 'G.I.' on the side of chopper. I reach out and tug on the corner of Frank's T-shirt, my eyes fixated on the Global logo.

"Why are they here?" I murmur as Frank brushes my hand off. My eyes wander to his face.

His jaw is set, his blue eyes blazing, his messy blond hair blowing wildly in the breeze. He clenches and unclenches his fist, and I notice that his gaze has fallen upon the silhouette of a woman.

"We gotta go. Like now." His tone is sharp and dangerous, and I internally cringe as he grabs my shoulder and spins me around, marching us towards Shelley.

"Frank? You good?" Jessie asks quietly, glancing down the line of us at Frank, who is as silent as the night.

His hand is still gripping my shoulder, and occasionally he'll tighten his grip absent mindedly. I wince every time he does this, his spindly fingers digging into my shoulders.

"Yeah. I just...I got a lot to think about." His voice is still dangerous and cold, and his eyes stare ahead, unblinking, as we walk on.

Eventually we reach the end of the street, where Alec waits in the SUV, the blacked out windows rolled all of the way up. Delilah and Jessie climb in the back, Jessie helping me in as Frank stiffly throws himself into the passenger seat.

Frank leans toward Alec and mumbles something in his ear that I can't quite catch, but a glance in the rearview mirror at Alec's expression leads me to think that it wasn't something very good.

Alec drives us all to his house, and he, Jessie, and Delilah all wordlessly scramble out of the van, leaving me, Frank, and an awkward silence that presses on my ears.

"Get in the passenger seat." He mumbles, glancing carelessly over his shoulder. I don't move. "Now." He grunts, returning his gaze to the dashboard.

I climb over the console and slip into the seat. "We live on Orwell."

"You're not going home right yet." His grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles turning white. My stomach starts to churn as he backs out of Alec's driveway, the red brick front of Alec's house disappearing as we turn the corner.

Frank senses my unease, and forces out an awkward laugh. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just needed extra time to talk to you. About the Global thing." His gaze darts momentarily to me, gauging my reaction.

I stare straight ahead.

Frank turns down Main and parallel parks in front of a coffee shop. He looks at me. "Would you like a coffee? Or tea?"

I blink.

"I'll pay."

I blink again.

Frank sighs and stares at me, his hands resting on the steering wheel, his crystal blue eyes scanning my face. "Do I scare you or something?"

"Maybe a little." I admit, my lips barely moving as I speak.

He just nods, as if he was expecting that answer. "I thought so." He cocks his head to the side, like a puppy. "Please? Just come inside with me."

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

A small smirk plays on his lips. "No, not really."

He nearly jumps out of the car, strolling around to my side and opening the door, bowing lowly as I step out. He closes the car door behind me before leaping up onto the sidewalk and taking my arm in his, the leather of his jacket very rough underneath the skin of my arm.

I shoot a glare up at him.

He grins down at me.

A bell dings loudly as we open the door to the café.

I've lived in Kipling my entire life and have never set foot in here, strangely enough.

The walls of the café are a soft, minty green, accented by a pristine white chair rail and beige crown molding. The round tables are all a pale brown, the chairs solid oak with black leather cushions. The booths, three on each end of the shop, are the same light oak with leather seats.

A waitress in an emerald polo and black leggings greets us, and Frank and I sit in the farthest left booth, close to the kitchens.

As the waitress is called into the kitchen, Frank stares at me, crossing his hands on the table. He forces a smile, and I see a fire burn in his eyes.

"So, what did you need to talk about?"

He leans forward, rests his head on his hands and says, "My mother works for Global now."