Home > Going Rogue (Also Known As #2)(7)

Going Rogue (Also Known As #2)(7)
Author: Robin Benway

“That is patently untrue,” Angelo said. He had barely flinched at the breaking glass or my teenage temper tantrum. “We can always do something.”

I looked at him, then my parents. “Like what?”

“Like prove that they’re wrong,” my dad said. “We can find the missing evidence and prove we didn’t steal it.”

The glass was glittering on the floor as the sun moved through our windows, and for some reason, it frightened me to even look at it. “It’s not really that easy, is it.”

“It isn’t,” my mom admitted. “It was a long time ago and it was a dangerous case. We barely escaped out of it. And that was with the Collective’s support.”

My eyes widened as I realized what they weren’t saying. “Are we going rogue?” I whispered. I had heard rumors about spies going rogue, but they had always seemed unbelievable, unstable, completely stupid.

Not anymore.

“Are we going rogue?” I repeated. “Because if so, I’m in.”

“No, you’re not,” my dad immediately said. “This is our problem, not yours.”

“Hey,” I told him. “This is our home, and home is where your family is. And you’re my family and now we’re in trouble. I. Am. In.”

My mom wiped at her eyes before I could see the tears. “We don’t want to put you in any danger.”

That’s when I knew we were in serious, serious trouble. I love my parents, but they had spent my entire life putting me in danger. It comes with the job. I mean, I was almost kidnapped when I was four! A deranged madman chased my friends and me through lower Manhattan! And now they were worried about danger?

“Okay, look, I’m just going to say it,” I announced. “I am really good at danger. I sort of excel at escaping it. I don’t like to brag, but I think it’s important to state the facts here.”

“You cannot protect her forever,” Angelo murmured to my parents. “She’s nearly an adult. This is her life, too.”

“Yeah, what he said.”

“Maggie, we’re not trying to prove the Collective wrong,” my dad said.

“Wrong!” I cried. “I already proved them wrong when Colton Hooper turned out to be a double agent. Me. And now they’re after you because they want to stop me.” Pieces were clicking together even as I spoke, and I wished I had another juice glass to hurl at the wall. “And they want to stop everyone like me.”

“We don’t know that.” Angelo stepped in, a well-dressed barrier between my parents and me. “All we have are the facts. Those are our best tools. Supposition and worry has never solved anything before and they won’t help us now.” He raised an eyebrow at me. “Agreed?”

“Agreed,” I said, even though I really didn’t. “Are we going to be separated, though? Like, if I have to research this? Because I’m ready.” I wished I felt as confident as I sounded, and I tried not to think of Jesse’s and Roux’s faces. “Some kids go to college when they’re seventeen. Some kids become doctors when they’re seventeen!”

“I don’t think you’re going to be a doctor,” my dad said. “Sorry.”

“It was just an example. I’m trying to tell you that I can live on my own so you don’t have to worry about me.”

My mom made a sort of strangled noise in the back of her throat.

“You’ll never be on your own,” Angelo reassured me. “We have friends all over the world. Maybe you’ll get to meet them.”

“Yay, new friends.” I tried to smile at my parents so they wouldn’t look so concerned. Their lack of poker faces was making me edgy, like there was something I didn’t know, something they weren’t telling me. “Let’s do this. I’m in. What’s the deal? What’s the evidence?”

“Why don’t we meet tomorrow and you and I can discuss?” Angelo suggested, straightening his suit sleeves. “It’s been quite some time since we’ve had a tête-à-tête, you and I.”

“But—”

“And isn’t that lovely boy of yours coming home this evening?” Angelo tapped his very expensive and definitely not a knockoff Rolex. “Might be late.”

I glanced down at my phone (producing a sigh from Angelo, who’s always trying to get me to wear a watch, that Luddite). “Yeah, Jesse’s train’s supposed to arrive in, like, thirty minutes. But he can wait. This is important.”

“Go,” my dad said, gesturing toward the door. “We know you missed him.”

I glanced at the door, wanting to stay and wanting to go. “Okay,” I finally acquiesced. “But this doesn’t mean I’m not taking this seriously. I’m in. Let’s do this.”

“Maggie,” my mom started to say, but I leveled my gaze at my parents and leaned across the counter, as sure as I had ever been.

“I’m in,” I said again, and this time, no one argued with me.

Chapter 3

Grand Central Station was packed as I rode the subway escalator up to the main concourse. It was rush hour, which meant lots of commuters, and I suspected that more than a few tourists were taking refuge in the air-conditioned hall. I couldn’t blame them. I only had to wait on the subway platform for a few minutes before the 6 train showed up, and I still felt grimy from the experience.

   
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