Читать книгу Icons - Margaret Stohl, Margaret Stohl - Страница 17

“Going somewhere?” Lucas shakes his head, almost imperceptibly, as soon as he says it. He never moves his eyes from mine and I understand immediately. Not here as a friend.

“Who, me?” My eyes linger on the weapons strapped flat against the soldiers’ hips. I curse myself for not hiding my chestpack beneath my sweater, like usual. “Just thought I heard something out here. Which I guess I did.”