Dying for Her: A Companion Novel (Dying for a Living Book 3) by Kory M. Shrum Page A

greatness for which I was intended, and Jesse too.”
    My blood turns cold at the mention of her name.
    “Every day you make her more and more into what she is meant to be. I can feel it. You’ll make her ready for me. I wouldn’t dare disrupt that.”
    I break his grip and whirl, wide and angry. I shove the Glock under his chin and it raises to accommodate the barrel. But before I can pull the trigger, all the resistance goes out. I stumble forward, almost hitting the dark glass, the bright city beyond.
    Caldwell is gone.

Chapter 14
    37 Weeks
    “ O h my God,” Jesse wails. “Who does that?”
    She stands over the computer I’ve dismantled in her garage. We’ve moved her car out to the driveway and closed the door behind us so that no one can see me. The bright fluorescents make the computer components shine.
    “I want you to put it back together,” I say. I offer her the small screwdriver. “Just do what I told you.”
    She throws her hands up. “And what if he has a Mac. This won’t work on a Macbook.” She flicks her ponytail over her shoulder and crosses her arms. She has a flair for the dramatic that rivals any drag queen.
    “He has a Compaq,” I say and offer her the screwdriver again. I’m referring to Mr. Lovett, an upcoming target. Jesse will have to go into his home and steal his hard drive for me. I could do it, but I want to teach her something while I still can.
    “You put it in all these little pieces,” she whines, but she takes the tool from me. “Why is it in so many pieces? And they are so tiny, look at this.” She shakes a chip at me.
    “Hurry,” I tell her. “We still need to work on your locks.”
    She glances at the corner of the garage by the door leading into the house. A cardboard box brims with locks, old and new. I told her lockpicking and computer knowledge were essential to life as a secret agent, and it is mostly true. Though technology has changed most of this.
    “Can we do the locks first and then the computer?”
    I grunt. “Nice try.” I know she likes the lock picking. TV has made it just cool enough for her to be interested. But if I let her start there, she’ll never do the computer.
    “And why do I even have to dismantle the computer?” she complains. “Can’t I just take a USB and steal all his files or something?”
    “What if you can’t turn it on?” I ask.
    “I’m not technologically challenged.”
    “I’m not saying you are, but can you imagine another reason why the computer might not come on for you?” I press.
    That shuts her up and she gives me a wary look, like she is expecting me to call her out on something. I could. This would be the perfect time to do so. I could say, I know you have problems with electricity. You bust wires and blow fuses. Just like Caldwell, who can step from one place to another far, far away. You have this gift and you’ll have to learn how to work with it, or around it.
    But Jesse hasn’t officially told me what is going on with her, and I’ve heard her lie about the number of lightbulbs she’s replaced and blame static electricity far too often. She doesn’t want to talk about it with me, and I respect that.
    “Agents don’t whine. Do your computer,” I say and lean against the garage wall, waiting.
    “I’m not a whiner. I am, like, the toughest person you know.”
    “I’ll tell Jackson you said that,” I begin. “If you don’t shut up and get to work. I’m not going to stand here all damn day.”
    “OK, the second toughest,” she corrects.
    I shove an overturned milk crate toward her so she can sit in front of the dismantled computer. She plops down onto the seat and starts working.
    I watch her face furrow in concentration and a weight settles against my chest. I’m trying to teach her something, sure, but I know this is as much for me as it is for her.
    I can’t get over Caldwell’s words. You’re making her ready for me.
    I hope not. But if I am, how? By teaching her? What was the