The comment enraged her. She was his superior, and he was going to get his coworker hurt further making her stay on the job in this condition. Had he no compassion?
“You need to go home and rest,” she told the girl.
“No.” The girl began working faster, churning out pieces that even Lena could tell weren’t precisely right. “I can do the work. I’ll meet goal today, I promise.”
“She’ll finish,” assured Colin, glaring at Lena. “I’ll make sure of it.”
“Well, I’m hardly going to depend on you,” Lena said.
They stared at each other in heated silence, and between them shot the glances of the other two. Colin looked away first, jaw flexing.
“You heard the lady,” said Mr. Minnick. “Sorry, sweetheart, you’re dismissed. Take care of yourself.”
“Wait,” said Colin, at the same time the girl sputtered, “You can’t fire me.”
“Who said anything about firing?” said Lena. Even if she’d wanted to, surely she didn’t have the authority. Or maybe she did. Mr. Minnick looked eager enough to please.
“My apologies, Miss Hampton, I thought that’s what you meant,” said Mr. Minnick, motioning her off to the side. “We can hold her position if you like, but we can’t hire someone to take her place while we do. Keeping her on the books will slow down production.”
Lena thought of her father’s news—that they needed to produce more weapons for the front lines. Business is good. For the Hamptons, maybe, but not for everyone.
“I see,” said Lena, mouth going dry. She looked away from Colin’s furious glare, and forced her gaze to the girl, trying to focus on what her father would do. “I’m sorry.”
On her way out, the girl bumped hard into her shoulder, knocking the bag down to Lena’s elbow. The scarf inside spilled out over the edge, and when Colin saw it, he shook his head, and turned away.
13
COLIN
“Snobby little greenback bitch!” Ty shouted into the night. The noise was enough to turn a few heads in front of them, but apart from some grumbled responses, no one stopped.
“What’d you expect?” muttered Colin. “She’s a Hampton.” They’d replayed variations on the same theme since he’d met her after work at Shima’s. Not that she wasn’t right—Lena had cost Ty her job, and in Metaltown if you didn’t work, you ended up on the streets, and then you ended up dead.
Colin wasn’t going to let that happen. Ty could come stay with him for a while if that’s what it meant. He could float one more person—one more cup of water in the watered-down broth wouldn’t exactly ruin the flavor. But telling himself this didn’t cure the unexplainable rage he felt every time he pictured Lena’s face.
What had he expected? Just because they’d talked didn’t mean she wasn’t a Hampton. Didn’t mean she had any idea what kind of damage she could do with just a few words. She was probably home now, eating a big dinner with her dad and brother in her nice warm house. She’d probably forgotten all about what had happened at Small Parts.
A headache was brewing right behind his eyes. Another worker would take Ty’s place tomorrow and Lena would never know the difference. But this would change everything for Ty.
“Well that Hampton is gonna be sorry when she’s the one who’s got to work the line because everyone else is either sick from the hot room or cut loose.” Ty kicked an empty tin can across the street.
He pictured a nearly empty Small Parts factory, with only Josef Hampton and his two kids on the line. It helped his mood a little.
“My eye’s just an excuse,” she went on. “You know she came there to trim the fat. Probably was just about to pull names on who to sack when she saw me.”
“She didn’t come there just to fire you.”
“Oh, is that right? And how would you know that?”
They rounded Whore’s Corner to Market Alley, where the shops were bustling with the after-work crowd.
“You could see it on her face.”
“On her stupid, flush face, you mean,” bit Ty. “What are you talking about, her face? Who cares about her face? Her mouth is what fired me.”
There was no winning with her when she was like this. “How’s your face?”
She stiffened beside him. “Fine.”
“Can you see yet?”
“Yeah,” she said too quickly. “Almost.”
Colin dragged a hand over his jaw. “You should have let them take the kid. If Lena hadn’t fired you, Minnick would have, just for being a hero.”
Ty had stopped walking, and when he noticed, he turned back. “What?”
“Lena?”
Colin felt his ears get hot. “The boss’s sister.”
“Oh, I know who Lena Hampton is,” shot Ty. “Do you?”
Shifting irritably, Colin quickly explained the situation he’d walked into at the beginning of the week. When he was done, Ty was laughing. He might have taken this as a good sign of her recovery if she hadn’t been so damn sarcastic about it.
“You’re lucky she doesn’t have you jailed for menacing,” she said.
Normally he would have shrugged it off, told her, “We’ll see,” or something like that. But he knew she was right. In the two times he’d seen Lena Hampton since their first encounter, she’d treated him like the invisible man.
But she did still have his scarf.
It didn’t make sense.
“It wasn’t a big deal,” he said. “I didn’t even remember it until just now.”
Ty made a noise of disbelief. “What did you need over here, anyway? I’m broke, in case you forgot.”
“We’re going to talk to Jed about your job.”
“Schultz?” Her one visible eye widened.
“Do you know another Jed?”
“Uh-uh.” She stopped and turned on her heels. “Brotherhood doesn’t cover kids.”
“The Brotherhood covers injuries on the job, though. And anyway, he likes me, and he knows you. He covered for you with Minnick when we went to Bakerstown.” A chill ran through him at the memory of Gabe Wokowski and his father.
Ty shook her head. “I don’t need his help. I don’t need anyone’s help.”
“Shut up,” he said. “You don’t even have to say anything. I’ll talk, you just stand there and look … desperate or something.” Colin wasn’t sure Ty even possessed such an emotion.
“I’m not desperate,” she said between clenched teeth.
“You will be when you’re working Whore’s Corner.”
She shoved him hard on the chest, and he bumped back into a cart of tableware. A set of metal bowls clanged together and then fell to the cement. He was pissed too; pissed that she was so damn stubborn she didn’t get it. She was thicker than blood to him, and he wasn’t about to let her freeze to death under the bridge.
“You want me to say it?” he asked, exasperated. “Please, okay? Please, Ty. Come with me. There, you happy?”
She melted back a step, rolling her shoulders to shake it off. “Fine.”
He sighed, almost wishing she’d kept fighting so he could burn off some of his own pent-up anger. They pushed through the crowd, stopping at the Brotherhood’s door. Colin stood a little taller, remembering how Jed had told him they were alike, and that he didn’t need to lie.
Jed had been generous to his family. He hoped he wasn’t stepping over the line to ask for one more favor.
He knocked on the door, throwing Ty a harsh look that told her to play nice. Imon opened the door, reminding Colin of just how big the man was. His flat face didn’t show any recognition, but he did move aside, and led them down the narrow hall to Jed’s office.
The People’s Man was sitting behind his desk, wearing a new suit. A fancy one, like a greenback would wear. He almost looked like a different man in clothes like that, and Colin felt a cold feeling of dread come over him, like coming here had been a bad idea.
“Mr. Walter,” said Jed with a yellow-teethed smile. “How are you, Colin?”
“Good,” said Colin. “Real good. Got some new duds with the green you gave me.”
“The green you earned,” corrected Jed with a nod. “I see that. Not too shabby.”
Colin felt his confidence build, even as Ty’s jaw began grinding beside him.
“Is everything all right with Cherish?” Concern warped Jed’s brow.
“Oh. Yeah,” Colin answered. “I actually came by for a different reason.” He swallowed. “Ty here was injured on the job. Well, not really on the job. The Stamping Mill pulled her out to fix a machine, and she got some burns on her face. And then Small Parts let her go because her eye’s all messed up.”
Jed’s gaze shifted to Ty, and it struck Colin that he hadn’t ever looked at her before just then. “What a shame. Take off your hat; let’s see the damage.”
Ty faltered. “It’s just a few burns, sir.”
“Take it off,” Jed repeated.
“Do it,” Colin hissed. What was wrong with her? You didn’t say no when Jed asked you to do something.
Ty glanced over at Colin, her one eye pleading. A spike of guilt drove through him, but still he reached for her hat and pulled it back. Head hung, she unwound the bandages, and his breath caught when he saw the bright red welts on her skin. There was pus, too, leaking from the blisters, and her left eye was bloodshot and unfocused.
Ty had lied to him. She was blind. She was never going to see again.
He wanted to hit something. He chewed the inside of his cheek, biting down hard so that he’d think of anything else but how hurt she was. Shima should have told him it was this bad. Ty should have told him. And now he was making her show it off like some battle scar. Maybe someone needed to hit him.
Jed cringed. “Imon, come look at this.” The big man stepped forward from the door, and bent down to see Ty’s wounds. His expression didn’t change. Colin’s fists tightened.
“Well, that is bad,” said Jed. “Does the doctor say it will heal?”
“Course it will,” lied Ty, her voice so small it made Colin flinch.
“That’s good news.” He leaned back in his chair.
Colin noticed the cool tone, and realized that Jed wasn’t going to offer anything unless he asked outright. He took a deep breath. “I was thinking you might be able to get her back in at Small Parts. Talk to Minnick or something.”
“The Brotherhood doesn’t extend to children’s work.”
Colin stiffened. He wasn’t a child. “But since she was working at the Stamping Mill when it happened…”
“The fact that it happened at the Stamping Mill makes no difference,” said Jed. He shook his head, disappointed. “You thought you could walk in here, after I put those clothes on your back, and ask me to break the rules?”
“No, sir,” said Colin quickly, feeling the situation taking a turn downhill. “I just thought, since you’d talked to Minnick before about us being late—”
“You thought wrong.” Jed leaned over the desk, dark eyes piercing. “Believe it or not, I don’t owe you anything.”
“I never thought—”
“In fact, if anyone owes anything, it’s you, Colin. Your brother has a debt, did you know that? He borrows to fund that little fix he’s got. Surely your mother would be distraught if we came to your home to collect.”
Colin’s mouth fell open. “You don’t need to go to my house.”
“Now that’s just rude,” said Jed, suddenly indignant. “After all I’ve done for your family, you wouldn’t even invite me in?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“An insult like that has me rethinking my generosity.”
“I’m sorry, sir,” stammered Colin. “I didn’t mean anything by it.” Beside him, Ty was quickly rewrapping her wounds. Panic blossomed, like the first draw of blood. Coming here had been a stupid idea. Jed was going to stop the payments that kept Cherish alive. He wasn’t going to help Ty, either. Things had been fine one second, and the next had spiraled out of control.
Jed sighed. “I know you didn’t. You were just trying to look out for your friend.” He sat down again, and Colin became aware of his muscles humming, his organs vibrating. “Just a word to the wise, kid. This is a dog-eat-dog world. Sometimes the best thing you can do is cut your losses.” He glanced over Ty again.
Colin went very still. Gone was the confusion. Gone was the anger. And in its place, remained a different kind of fury. A dangerous kind.
“Is that the Brotherhood’s official opinion?” he asked.
“Colin,” muttered Ty.
Jed smiled. “Of course not. If you paid your dues to the Brotherhood, I’d give you the Brotherhood’s official opinion, but I’m afraid you don’t. You just reap the rewards.”
Colin stepped forward, but Ty grabbed his shoulder. He tried to shake free, but she wouldn’t let go. Then Imon had his collar, and was dragging him down the hallway, out into the gray light of Market Alley.
* * *
Colin made for the river with Ty on his heels. He didn’t speak to her; he couldn’t even look at her. The shame was almost worse than the fury, and he was ready to rid himself of both.
He stalked down the crumbling sidewalk, past the pay-by-the-hour motels, to a bend in the road. The dive on the corner was alive with neon lights and already full of Metalheads—laborers mostly, avoiding going home. Lacey’s. Where they served penny shots of corn whiskey, and never pretended the stuff was safe to drink.
The bouncer outside was meaty, and marked up the forearms by half-finished tattoos. Before Lacey’s, Rico had worked at Small Parts. Exposure in the hot room had made him sick, and Minnick had turned him out to find the only work he could: food testing. A bad batch had messed up his lips, and as a consequence he wore a perpetual sneer. Lacey had hired him because he looked like a monster.
“Hayden in there?” Colin barked.
Rico rolled his head to the side. “You going to cause me trouble if he is?”
“No,” Ty answered for him.
Rico’s sneer deepened as he inspected her face.
“Keep staring,” Ty challenged. “I’ll make sure your eye matches mine.”
Colin pushed past them inside, scanning the bar and the patrons huddled over their dirty glasses. Behind them was standing-room only. The laughter was already turning raucous.
“Colin!” Zeke called from over in the corner. Martin was there with him, and a few others from Small Parts. Colin didn’t stop.
He wove through the bodies toward the back, to where Hayden was sitting on a fold-out metal chair, dealing cards onto a wooden crate. Four other guys watched his hands, waiting for him to slide a card and cheat.
Colin felt his control snap. The fury rolled through him, blocking out the lights, blocking out the other people. Blocking sound and reason. He lunged over the makeshift table, grabbed Hayden by the shirt and hoisted him to a stand. Cards and money scattered across the plank floor.
“What the—”
Colin hit him. Hard enough to crack his nose. His knuckles flared with the pain, but he didn’t care. He wheeled back to hit him again, but Hayden had lowered, and he charged straight into Colin’s gut, knocking the air from his lungs.
Colin crashed into a group behind them and hit the floor. Glass cracked somewhere near his head. He swung up, connecting with Hayden’s side. A grunt filled his ear, brought on a dark satisfaction. He hit his brother again, and again.
Hayden’s elbow swung back and knocked him hard enough in the temple to make his vision waver. And then the weight was suddenly absent. Colin sucked in a tight breath.
“No trouble, my ass,” growled Rico, holding Hayden upright in a headlock.
Zeke’s arms latched under Colin’s and heaved him up. His brother’s eyes were red-rimmed, his dark hair matted with sweat. The blood ran freely from his nose. He swiped at it with the back of his hand.
Fighting had erupted around them, a chain reaction of explosions. Glass shattered, voices raised. Colin saw Ty taking a swing at a
guy in a chem plant uniform. Martin pulled her back.
“Get out,” ordered Rico. “Work it out outside.”
Hayden and Colin were shoved out the front door, into the empty street and the frigid night. Inside, the fighting raged on.
“I was on a streak,” said Hayden. “You cost me half a day’s wages in there.”
Colin got right back in his face, sick when the sticky sweet smell of nitro wafted off of him.
“Why don’t you ask Jed Schultz to spot you, then? I hear he’s been loaning you all kinds of green.”
Hayden fell back, brows hiking up his forehead.
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Where do you think? From Schultz himself. When he was telling me he could cut the money for Cherish if you didn’t pay up.” It was close enough to the truth, and Colin wanted nothing more than to make Hayden crumble.
“You don’t want to mess around with Schultz, little brother.” Hayden’s voice was low.
“Oh, that’s perfect,” said Colin. “Go ahead, try to tell me what to do. You can’t even take care of yourself. It’s pathetic.”
Hayden turned away, like he was going home, but stopped and came back to Colin, squinting, pointing. “Everything’s so easy for you, isn’t it? So goddamn easy.”
Colin’s head fell back. Easy? Nothing was easy. His mom was sick and his brother was a junkie and his best friend was half-blind. He was the idiot, yet again. Wanting everyone to be something they weren’t.
“Yeah, everything’s real easy, Hayden,” he said bitterly. Glancing back through the bar window, he found Ty still standing, yelling something at Rico. She was all right—at least for now. But things were changing. She’d had her fair share of scrapes, but what had happened with her eye was different. It made her vulnerable, and he’d never thought of her that way before.
He forced a heavy breath, standing side by side with his brother, facing the black water that lapped against the concrete barrier beneath the bridge. A train was rolling down the tracks at the shipping yards, on the edge of Bakerstown, and the sound carried over the distance. He wondered if Lena could hear it all the way in the River District and then felt stupid for even thinking it.
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