75 Hunting a rodent

**Date = 6 July**
*The day of the trap*
**Place = San Francisco (Schulz–Sonoma County Airport)**
*We got Matthew’s location.*

**POV - Aria**

To anyone watching, we’re just a beautiful couple loitering in arrivals, waiting for Enrique’s very pregnant sister to land.
Even though she’s absolutely not on a plane. Or landing. Or even close to the states.
There’s just … us. Sitting in the mostly quiet arrivals lounge of a small regional airport, pretending we’re waiting for a flight — that will never come — while surveillance eyes and informants watch to see if the bait gets a bite.
We’re here with the kids. Deimos and Haley are at the other airport — the captain’s. Uncle John went to number three — Shoestring’s. All of us acting a part.
Enrique blinks at the departure board as if it is plotting against him personally.
“It’s been forty-seven minutes,” he mutters, his eyes on where River is leaning against the wall with folded arms, sizing Luke up with the same expression I imagine she uses on unsuspecting pigeons. I think she might actually kill him this time.
“Since?” I ask, balancing a half-eaten churro and a very empty coffee cup, perched cross-legged on the fake leather airport bench next to him, pretending not to notice the small war we’ve unleashed in Concourse B. My eyes flick toward him, just for a second, the corner of my mouth twitching.
I’ve come to realize that the Blackburns sprout many, many trades — beauty, mind-reading abilities, charm, cockiness, intelligence — but patience is definitely not one of them.
“Since I lost the will to live.” I roll my eyes.
“This is revenge,” he leans in and whispers in my ear, sending all the wrong signals to all the right places. “Putting me on babysitting duty because the actual guards had to do actual work.” Being overly dramatic is another Blackburn trade. So is brooding.
He stretches himself out and continues grimly. “Getting back at me for the liquid ass in the car vent.”
“That was nasty,” River stage-whispers from across the row. Her little ears never miss a thing. “Lili and I were in that car. The most diabolical stench known to man.” She wrinkles her pretty nose. “Smelled like someone boiled a diaper full of roadkill.”
“Why?” Lili, also nine, also here, snubs. “Really … why did you do that?”
Enrique chuckles. “It was just one of our bets. It’s tradition. Keeps us focused.”
“I don’t think anyone can focus with that smell clogging up the nostrils,” River moans.
“It’s a guy thing,” Luke explains as if he knows all about it. Which he doesn’t. Not yet. “You would not understand.”
River pulls her nose up and looks at him as if she’s going to dissect him.
So he’s here because of payback. However, I don’t know who decided that putting me with Enrique on babysitting duty during this sting operation was a good idea, but I’d like to file an official complaint. Because if I have to sit here much longer and pretend I’m not in love with the man while he tries very, very hard not to flirt with me — in front of three kids who may or may not have developed an entire side hustle as professional blackmailers — I’m going to lose it.
Lili is sitting beside me, sweetly playing on her tablet and humming a completely untraceable melody. Her role in this heist is ambiguous, but if I have to guess, I’ll say she’s secretly running the entire operation. Her personality is somewhere in between — more nerdy than River, but much wilder than my sister.
An intercom beeps hard, like a hooter or a trumpet. As if someone wanted to make an announcement but changed their mind. Lili lifts her head.
“You know, Cuz,” Lili singsongs, looking at Enrique. “Planes have horns.” Enrique tilts his head and peers at her from under those lovely, long, dark lashes. Clearly, he doesn’t believe her one bit.
“They do,” she mutters, stuffing another gummy bear into her mouth while keeping half an eye on her cousin and the other on River, who is currently plotting something devious with a roll of duct tape. “They’re just … very polite horns. British. Only used in emergencies. Like when there’s a bomb midair.”
Luke grunts. “Who told you that rubbish?”
Lili sits up straight.
“Jackson,” River says. Enrique snorts. River walks closer and holds up the duct tape as if she’s threatening to use it on him. And I’m pretty sure she will if given a gap.
“Jackson doesn’t lie,” she sneers, seriously.
“Jackson? Tall-dark-and-casual-homicide? He might not lie, but he barely tells the truth.”
She shakes her head firmly and has that tight-eyed look that means someone has insulted Jackson, and she is here to defend his honor like a tiny, justice-obsessed knight.
“Lawyers don’t lie. They told my dad to stop gambling. The truth is, he should. But he never listens.” She throws the duct tape to Luke, who catches it like they’ve been running covert ops since kindergarten. Which, knowing River, might not be far off.
My question is, why do they have it in the first place?
“What does a lawyer have to do with Jackson?” Enrique asks.
“He is one.”
Enrique blinks a few times as if imprinting what she just said. Then he throws his head back and laughs loudly. That nice laugh that makes my toes curl.
He wipes a tear from his eye. “Kid, the closest my twin ever got to a university was probably breaking into one. To hide a body. He’s for sure never been to law school.”
“Did I say he’s been?” she snubs, surprisingly as calm as a monk on morphine. “No … because he hasn’t. He just passed the bar.”
Enrique stares at her like she just turned into a unicorn. That glitters in the sun. And pooped on his parade.
“The bar?” he asks flatly. Her eyes do a slow, exaggerated loop like they are circling a drain of disbelief. She looks at Lili to help her out. Which she does, even if she doesn’t exactly have the right knowledge on the subject.
“Duh. You should know what bars are, Enrique.” Lili throws her purse into the conversation. “You own one. And there’s one down the road called Sharky’s, and another one near the donut shop with the creepy moose in the window.”
“The only bar Jackson’s ever passed is one with a neon beer sign and a guy named Hank who sells fake IDs.” Now, both girls roll their eyes like it’s their full-time job.
“I can see why you’re not a lawyer,” River snubs. “Jackson said the bar is this super secret, elite underground club for people who wanna be lawyers. Not just ***anyone*** can go.” She emphasizes the word while glaring at Enrique. Making a statement. “You have to, like, prove yourself. It’s very intense.” And I suppose Jackson told her this in super gloomy secrecy.
“Mm-hmm. Go on,” Enrique hums with a small smile on his face. He’s actually enjoying this.
“I’m sure you walk in, and there’s this old man behind the counter — probably blind — who gives you a test. If you fail, you leave. Forever. But if you get it right, you drink a shot and get your black robe thingy and that little wooden hammer —” Oh, the mind of a child.
“— and ta-da … you’re a lawyer.” Lili finishes the story. I see the start of a budding, dangerous friendship developing here.
Enrique chuckles. “You’re telling me my twin — who once asked if prenuptial was a disease — passed the bar exam?” I must admit, I also don’t see Jackson as a lawyer.
“Ugh*.* He did it as a dare. But he passed. First try. No law school. No study buddy. Because he’s Jackson. He learns things he shouldn’t know. Like how to blow up a boat. Or eat a cat. Or steal a body. Or how to cook that weird soup with the shrimp heads.”
“Which is surprisingly delicious …” Lily adds on from the side again.
I say, half laughing, half horrified, “That sounds like him.” Because it does.
“Yep, he’s going to help my father to sue the company he worked for …” she frowns slightly, “for necklace-gance …” I smile at her effort. Negligence on a construction site led to the accident, which cost him his leg.
“Shit … so he really passed the bar,” Enrique says, “And he never told us.” He seems a little hurt and upset.
“See? He doesn’t lie. He just doesn’t explain himself to idiots.”
Ouch.
“Fair enough. Next time he pisses me off, I’m going to yell *‘objection’*!” Enrique’s already over his distraught.
“So next time you doubt my Cuz, Jack,” Lili snubs, “Remember he can sue you in three states before you blink. And win.”
Luke is swinging his arms and the duct tape in the air like a discombobulated military helicopter. Subtle, right? Exactly what you want to be doing in an airport.
An airport security guy drifts past, slow, but with his eyes razor sharp. His gaze hooks onto us for a second too long, sharp and measuring, like he’s filing our faces into some internal blacklist before moving on.
“They’re going to jail,” Enrique whisper-sighs flatly.
“Only if they find a rope,” I reply, my eyes on the duct tape again.
“Did you bring snacks?” River asks. Now I sigh dramatically, rummaging through the emergency backpack of shame. Juice boxes, toilet paper, trail mix, and an anxiety-induced banana. Some sweets. That’s all I got. I hand her a packet of M&Ms.
At the same time, I’m trying to ignore Enrique’s thigh pressed against mine and the tension sitting just beneath my skin. But it’s hard. The thing about pretending you’re not in love with someone you are very much in love with is that it’s like trying not to sneeze. You can clench your jaw and press your tongue to the roof of your mouth and pray to every saint you know — but eventually, it’s going to explode out of you in a mess.
“You look very … covert,” he mutters under his breath, tapping the back of my hand with one finger. “Are you wearing lip gloss?”
“We all make reckless decisions,” I whisper back. “Like I chose not to strangle you last night.”
He smirks and looks away, then immediately back at me. “That color’s illegal in at least six states.”
“I can add a seventh if you don’t behave.”
“Stop flirting,” River shoots. “We’re trying to catch a rat, not add another baby to the population.”
“I’m not flirting,” I lie.
“She is,” Luke says, grinning. “She wants to kiss him.” As if I’m not sitting right here.
“I do not,” I try again. In vain.
“She so does,” River says. “It’s written on her forehead.”
“I’m wearing sunglasses,” I say, but no one cares.
“I swear they were making out in the Jeep,” Lili adds.
“Gross.” Luke tugs his hoodie tighter and leans against a suitcase he definitely found and does not own. Arms crossed, oozing surfer cool. “This place is boring,” he whines, stretching the word like taffy.
“It’s an airport,” I say. “Not Disneyland.”
“This is child endangerment.” He’s only ten and already sporting the infuriating confidence of a Calvin Klein model.
“You’re the danger here,” River snips. “You almost hit an old lady when you ran to the bathroom.”
“She walked into ME!”
“Because you cut through the Apple Spice sandwich line like a psycho!”
“Shut it, Seaweed!” Luke snaps.
“Make me, Goofy!” River lifts a fist, threatening his face. Luke smirks at her with a teasing grin.
I raise a hand. “Okay, stop.” My ears and nerves are both at breaking point. “What are these names?”
“Her eyes look like seaweed,” Luke says. That’s kinda romantic, actually.
“He surfs wrong,” River adds.
“It’s their love language,” Lili mutters, chewing on the straw of her juice box like it is a sedative.
“I do not love him!” River shouts, just as a passing tourist gives them a wide berth and a suspicious glance. Yeah, we’re definitely not hard to miss. The rat will certainly spot us.
Lili, still sitting cross-legged on the bench like a tiny, blonde Buddha with an iPad, looks up calmly and continues, “They’re totally getting married.”
“I’d rather marry a jellyfish,” Luke sneers with a grunt.
“At least a jellyfish has more brains than you,” River says with squinted eyes.
“Okay, okay,” I interrupt, adjusting my legs. “Let’s all take a deep breath and pretend we’re normal.” It always works with Leyla.
“I’m allergic to normal,” River chirps. Seemingly, it’s not working with this bunch of hooligans. I’m not used to hyperactive, rabid delinquents that might as well be spawned by the devil.
“Confirmed,” Luke says, deadpan.
Enrique turns to Lili. “How are you the only one acting like a human child?”
“I’m writing code to track rat infestation anomalies,” she says without blinking.
“— yeah. Sure. Of course you are.” And I’m sure he’s as lost as I am. He leans toward me. “Is that normal for a nine-year-old?”
“No, but we’ve established these ones are not normal.”
“Fair.”
“Okay, squad,” he says, rising from the bench like a soldier who’s been to war and back —specifically, the war of childcare. “Mission Update. We’re going to look bored, stay visible, and not blow our cover. That means no tasers, no public threats, and no biting.”
Luke throws his head back with a wounded groan, as if someone has physically harmed him.
River pouts. “Not even mild threats?”
“Only if it’s poetic.”
Luke raises an eyebrow. “Define poetic.”
Enrique points at me. “Ask her. She’s the Shakespeare of passive-aggression.” My turn to snort.
River gives a regal little wave. “Lee once made a CIA agent cry with just three syllables and a raised brow.” Right now, I wish Lee were here and not …
I swallow some spit. I’m not sure WHAT Lee is … the DNA of the corpse matched. The tattoo behind the ear matched. But Enrique assures me Lee’s sipping cocktails with the devil. And River says Lee is in a better place. I’m taking it as code for an island destination holiday with Jackson.
Lili breaks into a rendition of ***‘Let It Go’*** that’s so off-key, the security guard starts to stare as if gunshots were fired.
I rub my temples. “Why did I agree to this?”
“Because you like me,” Enrique replies sweetly.
“No, I —” I stop, trapped, mid-denial. His grin widens. Damn it. He always does that. Baits me into feelings when I’m armed with nothing but sarcasm and caffeine withdrawal.
I change the subject before my heart combusts in front of the children. “Alright, we’re on Code Bored. Everyone in character.”
“Define character,” Luke says, arms crossed.
“You’re a bored kid whose cool uncle is picking up your super pregnant sister-in-law from the airport. You’re dying for a soda and possibly revenge.”
River grins. “That’s just my normal vibe.”
Luke mutters, “I don’t even drink soda.”
“Then pretend,” I hiss. River whispers something in Luke’s ear. He glances at her like he can’t decide whether to throw her off a bridge or marry her in five years.
“Do I get a backstory?” Lili calls from her seat.
“You’re an heiress being smuggled out of your country to avoid an arranged marriage,” I offer.
“Help!” Lili squeals and flings her arms dramatically into the air.

A few actual airport guards glance in our direction. We’re going to land in the airport jail.
“See?” Enrique said. “We should’ve left them with the Navy.” I cast a glance skyward that speaks volumes — none of them flattering. I don’t know who’s the most draining — him or the kids.
“You can’t leave kids with the Navy,” I say.
“Well, then we should have drugged them and left them in the car.” Before I can strangle him, his phone buzzes. It is Marco, one of the guards working the surveillance side of the operation. Enrique picks up with the tone of a man already tired of everything.
“Yeah?” His voice is low and clipped. He speaks a bit too loudly and groans, “What? No. Are you serious?” The kids all freeze. I straighten. We know the drill. The sting is over.
“Again? Mel, come on. You promised. I brought the whole damn circus to meet you.”
Pause. He’s a great actor. It truly sounds as if he’s talking to his sister and not Marco.
“No, I get it. Yeah. Yeah, call me later.”
He hangs up and lets out a loud, dramatic sigh and claps. “Alright, update! Everyone, listen up!”
“Well, folks. The show’s over. Flight’s been canceled. Mel’s stuck in Phoenix with a crying Logan and an emotional support chihuahua named Snickers.”
River blinks. “Is Snickers real or code?” she whispers.
“Does it matter?” I mutter.
“Kind of,” Luke says. I sigh deeper than Enrique. These kids will turn any sane person into a heap of crazy. How does Haley cope?
“So we can go?” Luke raises a brow. Enrique nods.
“Can we get food?” River asks, already heading to the exit.
“If you keep eating like a pig, you’ll soon look like one,” Luke mutters. “I don’t like fat girls.”
“And I don’t like stupid boys.”
Luke then leans over to River and — very obviously — pulls the end of her ponytail. Hard.
And that’s it.
River launches. She’s on top of him like she’s reenacting a National Geographic predator special. Luke yelps, dramatically, as if he’s being attacked by wolves.
“Get her off me!”
“Stop!” Enrique tries to pull them apart.
River’s swinging. Luke’s laughing. Lili is walking away.
I honestly don’t know whether to stop it or film it.
Enrique grabs River around the waist and hauls her off like she weighs nothing. Her little legs are still kicking in the air.
“He started it!” River calls.
“She exists!” Luke screams back.
“Enough!” Enrique booms — and wow, that voice has the power of years of military school and unfiltered testosterone. Even the TSA guy at the entrance flinches.
The kids freeze. Even Lili stops and turns.
“You,” Enrique points at Luke, “keep your hands to yourself.”
Luke shrugs. “I didn’t even —”
“You pulled her hair.”
“She likes when I —”
“I do not!” River screeches, still flailing.
“You,” he turns to River, “— this is not a cage match.”
“She started it,” Luke mutters again.
“She can finish it,” Lili says, still humming.
“Only because I’m not allowed to hit a girl.” I give them that. These boys are untamed, but they’re civil.
I rub my temples and glare over the shocked airport with the kind of flair that deserves applause and a bouquet.
“You still wanna have kids with me?” Enrique asks under his breath. When did we ever talk about having kids? That makes me laugh. I can’t help it. The whole scene is so ridiculous, it’s starting to feel surreal.
“Absolutely not.” That’s a big fat lie. I’d love to have his baby. But it’s not going to happen.
“Hey,” River takes Enrique’s hand and smiles up at him like a little angel she’s not. “Don’t look now, but the baseball cap to the left just snapped some photos of us.” I try to look without turning my head. Guy in a baseball cap, hoodie despite the heat, walking too slow and watching us like we’re a documentary he didn’t want to stream but somehow can’t turn off. Lili grabs my hand, and Luke takes a place on the other side of River. Shielding her from danger. Cute.
“Bathroom,” Enrique says, leaning in. “Take Lili. We’ll circle around and I’ll let Marco know.”
“Why me?” Lili pouts.
“Because you’re a Blackburn and not the devil’s offspring,” Enrique says and winks at his little cousin. She smirks and pushes out her chin.
“Rude,” River mutters.
“Fine. But if I die in the women’s room, I want a decent memorial,” Lili chirps. I turn to the bathrooms, pulling Lili with me. The next moment, someone hovers close to my free side. “You’ll need me. I can sniff out rats,” River says, swinging her arms forward and back. With her wits, it’s sometimes hard to remember she’s just a lost little girl looking for someone she loves.
“I’m sure you can,” I say, patting her head. “You little sewer goblin.” The two girls giggle softly and I take River’s hand.
As we walk by, I look at Hoodie Guy and smile, as if he’s just another person waiting for a plane. He turns and walks away. He’s nervous. Twitchy. Checking his phone every few steps. Probably waiting for a signal. Then he disappears through the exit.
The girls and I take the scenic route, pretending to admire vending machines and bathroom signage.
“Yo,” Luke waves from the other side, a huge lopsided grin on his handsome little face. River runs — no, she *launches.* One second, Luke is smirking at us, and the next, he is trapped in a full-body chokehold that looks suspiciously like a hug.
“Surprise, loser!” she yells, flinging her arms around him with the force of a small hurricane.
Luke stumbles back a step. “Ow! Personal space, psycho!”
“You missed me,” she says, grinning against his shoulder. “Admit it. Your life is empty without my commentary.”
“More like quieter,” he mumbles, but his arms close around her anyway — careful, reluctant, and just a little smug. “You smell like sour gummies and chaos.”
River tightens her grip. “Thank you, that’s my signature scent.”
Enrique, watching from a distance, shakes his head. “Someone warn me when they start dating so I can move to another country.”
And for the first time in a while, with chaos swirling, my sister healing, and the trap closing in, I find myself smiling. Exhausted, overwhelmed, and entirely unsure if River and Luke are about to kiss or punch each other. But I’m genuinely smiling.
Because no matter how insane my life has gotten, this ragtag group of weirdos, this broken man who can’t love, his individualistic family, and oddball friends — they are now all mine too.