“When we’re in there, follow my lead. I won’t let him harm you. Can you trust me with this?” Trust. Was he really asking me to trust him? It was impossible to blindly trust a person shrouded in secrets. Right? Trust him, my instincts implored—begged, even. I nodded, my pulse spurring into a sickening spiral. “You’d better be real, Brendan Bearon.” “I am. I promise you, I am.”
