by Naomi West
I shook my head. “I don't want to talk about it,” I told him, before I even knew what exactly he was going to say.
“Okay,” he said, his voice impossibly gentle.
I looked up at him in surprise, finding something unreadable on his face. I shook my head again. “Look, let's just get this package delivered this evening and then you never have to see me again, all right?”
“Sure,” Rip said, still staring.
We were silent for a long moment, and then suddenly there was another knock on the door. Rip sighed and stood up, seeming resigned to the fact that Hollande had returned — maybe with police reinforcements, given the forceful nature of the knock.
I swallowed hard and stood up as well, ready to intervene if it was Hollande back again.
Instead, Hollande was nowhere to be seen, but there was a police officer standing there at the door. My heart instantly started racing. Rip was sure that they'd be there to press assault charges against him, but were they going to search the room as well? My eyes slipped over to the three packages which were stacked on the table in the corner. It wouldn't take much for them to find the gun pieces, and I wasn't sure what would happen then. Plus, somewhere was that letter that Rip had threatened me with, the one that claimed my involvement in this whole scheme. They were sure to find that as well…
“Officer, what can I do for you?” Rip asked, as though he hadn't just punched Hollande out in the hallway. He seemed ready to go along without a fight, though.
The officer stared at him for a moment, hands on her hips. “Rip Stevens?” she asked. Her eyes slid past Rip, coming to rest on me. “And…?”
“Olivia Harrell,” I said, mouth gone dry with nervousness.
“Olivia Harrell,” the officer responded. “And just what are you doing here, Olivia Harrell?” Her eyes moved back and forth between Rip and I, and I wondered what Hollande had told her.
“I'm sleeping with him,” I blurted out bluntly, pointing to Rip. I blushed. “I mean, I'm not a prostitute or anything. He's a good guy. He doesn't, like, beat me or whatever else Hollande may have told you.”
The officer looked more confused. “Who is Hollande?” she asked Rip.
We all sort of started at one another for a moment before Rip cocked his head to the side, catching sight of the officer's name badge. “Cherri Velasquez?” he asked.
Cherri raised an eyebrow at him. “Of course,” she said. “Who else did you think it might have been?”
Rip exhaled noisily and pulled her into the room, shutting the door behind her.
Chapter Eleven
Liv
Cherri stared at me in disbelief after hearing Rip's explanation of who I was. “You've dragged an outsider into this?” she hissed, and although the question was directed at Rip, there was no denying the threat in her voice that was directed solely at me.
“Well, what was I supposed to do, Cherri?” Rip asked, sounding just as exasperated as he had when he had asked that question to Damien. “She overheard me on the phone. I couldn't exactly let her walk off after that. Anyway, she's been my cover in some ways. No one gets suspicious about a young couple looking to book a motel room for a night or two, but they do get suspicious when a guy like me shows up on his own on a motorcycle and needs a place to stay.”
Cherri frowned and turned her gaze back to Rip. “You may have compromised our mission enough as it is,” she snapped. “Who exactly is this Hollande guy that you thought might have ratted you out?”
“That was for something else entirely,” Rip said defensively. “He doesn't know about the packages or anything like that.” When Cherri continued to stare at him, clearly expecting an explanation, Rip rolled his eyes. “He's Liv's ex-boyfriend, I guess. Sort of. They weren't really dating. Anyway, he showed up here not too long ago and I ended up punching him in the face. I thought he might have sent you here to arrest me for assault or something like that.”
Cherri looked even more dismayed. “And what happens to me if the cops show up here and find me talking to the two of you?” she asked. “How are we going to explain that? I'm in uniform, after all.”
“Why are you dressed as a cop anyway?” I blurted out. “Wouldn't it have seemed less conspicuous if you had just come in your normal clothes?”
“I just got off work,” Cherri snapped. “As Rip should've known, I'm a prison guard at the prison where Cat is being held. How did you think we were going to get the packages to her anyway?”
“Wait, the packages are going to Cat?” I asked incredulously, staring at Rip. “She's trying to get out of prison, isn't she? And you're helping her!”
Rip scowled at Cherri. “See, she didn't know everything about the mission.”
“Just enough to jeopardize it,” Cherri shot back. “What do you think Cat’s going to say when she finds out you’ve dragged this girl into the mess as well?”
I could feel panic rising inside of me again. “Look, I don’t really have anything to do with this. He kidnapped me at gunpoint; I’m the victim here. As a prison guard, I would have expected you to have better morals than to harass an innocent bystander.”
There was a long silence where they both just stared at me. Suddenly, I wondered if Cherri might reconsider her role in this. If I could only make her see how wrong this was… There must be some good inside her if she had decided to become a prison guard. I couldn't see why she had gotten herself tangled up with the Gemini Riders to begin with, unless it all had to do with money…
“What are they paying you?” I suddenly asked her.
“What do you mean?” Cherri asked.
“To work for the Gemini Riders, to help Cat Zodiac escape,” I said. “What are the Gemini Riders paying you? I know they want their national president back. I assume they've offered you quite a bit of money. But maybe we can make some sort of a deal.” I didn't want to use all my inheritance money paying her off, but I also thought that might be a fair trade off in exchange for my life.
But Cherri sneered at me. “It's not about money,” she said. “The Gemini Riders aren't paying me anything. I'm paying them, and I'm helping to organize this.”
“But why?” I asked. There had to be some sort of reason…
“Cat Zodiac has my kid sister working as a prostitute for the Gemini Riders,” Cherri said finally. “She's promised that if I get the package to her, she'll let my sister go.” She bit her lip, momentarily looking human. “Jamie deserves something more in life than to be passed around as a prostitute by a bunch of crusty biker dudes.”
“Oh,” I said quietly. I looked towards Rip, hoping he would help me out a little, but he was still staring impassively at Cherri.
“I want you to deliver the first package to me tomorrow,” Cherri said to Rip, her tone level. “I'm working near where Cat is being held, and I should be able to get it in to her. The rest of the packages will be delivered to me at work over the course of the week. As for where to make the deliveries, you'll come in during visiting hours. There will be a man there at the desk who will want to check your package to make sure that there's nothing in it that the prisoners can't have. You'll hand over the package; he'll confiscate it. I've already taken pains to ensure that it's Romeo Bradley on the desk checking packages. I'm sure you've heard his name around the Gemini Riders before; he's been useful to us.”
Rip grunted a confirmation. “Who am I there to visit?” he asked. “Surely you don't want to link Cat to any of this.”
“Of course not,” Cherri said, giving him a look of disgust as though she couldn't believe he even had to ask. “You'll be there to see your ex-fiancée, Grace Talbot.”
Chapter Twelve
Liv
As soon as the door closed behind Cherri, I rounded on Rip. “Your ex-fiancée is a criminal too?” I snapped. “Kept in the same high-security prison as Cat Zodiac?”
Rip rubbed at his temples and reached for his wallet and keys. “I need a drink,” he said, looking ashen and exhausted.
I re
ached out and caught his wrist. “You need to go to the authorities!” I cried. “This is getting out of control. You're smuggling weapons into a prison!” And somehow I was mixed up in all of it.
“It's a pretty solid plan,” Rip said, shrugging a little. “Like Cherri said, Romeo has been useful to the Gemini Riders in the past. I can trust him.”
“Another friend-of-a-friend who you can trust?” I spat. “And what do you think about the people who are going to be killed when Cat gets her hands on these guns and gets them assembled? I'm not even talking about myself here, but what about the other prison guards and the witness and the other people that she kills when she gets out? Don't you care at all about any of them?”
Something flickered in Rip's face, but he set his jaw and stared down at me, shaking his wrist free. “It's not really any of your business anyway,” he said. “Look, I'll get the packages delivered this week. Then Cat will go through with the next part of her plan. And then I'll let you go free.”
“No,” I snapped. “Our deal was that once the packages had been delivered to Cherri, I would go back to my life. I can't—”
“Don't make me tie you up,” Rip snarled, giving me a menacing look. And suddenly, I was reminded of all the things he could do to me if I didn't cooperate with him. I was no longer certain that he wouldn't kill me. Or at least have me killed by one of the other Gemini Riders.
I ducked my head and, feeling suddenly tired of this whole thing, backed up to sit on the edge of the bed. It was no use thinking that I never should have gone along with him, when I knew that he would have forced me to come along anyway. But that was little comfort either way.
“You'd better be here when I return,” Rip said, glowering at me. “Otherwise...” He didn't finish the empty threat, but he didn't have to.
I nodded without looking up at him, twisting my fingers around one another. “I'll be here,” I promised.
Rip stared at me for a beat longer. “I really didn't want you to be caught up in this,” he said quietly.
I blinked up at him, wondering at the sincerity in his voice. Not that it was really going to help me, but it was almost comforting to know. I gave him a bitter half-smile and a shrug, though. “Yeah, well. Now I'm caught up in it, like it or not. I just hope...”
“I know,” Rip said. He was still watching me. “I'll do everything that I can to protect you.”
I thought of him punching Hollande and sighed. I wasn't sure that his protection was anything that I wanted, but it wasn't like I really had any choice in any of this. “Thanks,” I finally said.
I lay back against the bed and closed my eyes, even though I was fully dressed and still on top of the covers. I wouldn't be falling asleep for hours anyway, even if I wanted to; my mind was an absolute maelstrom of thoughts and feelings at the moment. I itched to call the police, but I didn't know what would happen to me if I did so. But then again, sacrificing my own life might be better if it meant I could save everyone that Cat had a vendetta against. I couldn't imagine going to prison, though, and especially not since I knew Cat must have connections both inside and outside of the prisons. Either way, things looked bad for me.
My hand crept towards the motel telephone, but when I picked up the receiver, the line was dead. I checked and it was plugged in, but it definitely wasn't working. “Stupid cheap motel,” I muttered under my breath.
I wasn't able to bring myself to leave the room, even though I knew it would be easy enough to walk downstairs and ask to use the reception phone, which I figured must be working.
It wasn't just that I was caught up in this, either. Part of me was reluctant to turn Rip over to the police. Even though I knew that it was just lust, that I was just longing for this sense of adventure to be reawakened. He took too many risks and was too foolhardy to even realize he was taking so many risks. I kind of admired his ability to trust in these random strangers just because they were all part of his biker gang, but I also didn't know how he managed to turn a blind eye to all of their flaws.
I dropped the receiver and fell back against the bed, wondering what I was going to do. Rip came back into the room, and I pushed myself up onto my elbows.
“That didn't take very long,” I commented.
Rip rolled his eyes. “There's a liquor store right next door,” he said.
“Oh.” I watched as he poured himself a few fingers of whiskey into one of those plastic water cups, knocking back a healthy swig. “Can you pour me a drink too?” I asked plaintively. He paused, looking at me for a moment and then grabbed the other glass.
“I didn't bring anything to mix with,” he warned.
“I don't even care right now,” I said, although I didn't normally drink alcohol, and I definitely didn't drink it straight. But what the hell. I needed it right then.
The first sip burned on the way down, and I coughed a little, eyes watering. Rip looked amused but didn't say anything, calmly pouring himself another drink.
It wasn't long before we found ourselves sitting face-to-face on the bed, watching one another. “I shouldn't deliver the packages, I know that,” Rip said suddenly, still looking tired as he ran a hand back through his hair. “I should never have gotten involved in this. But there's no way to really back out now. Cat has friends and supporters everywhere. I'd be dead by the end of the week.”
I had the feeling appealing to his morality and mentioning all the other people who would be dead by the end of the week wasn't going to help anything, but I struggled to think of anything I could use to argue against his continued involvement in this scheme.
“Don't you see how risky this plan is?” I finally asked. I was a risk assessor, after all. Why not try that tactic? He must have some sense of self-preservation or he wouldn't have even made it this far.
“Romeo,” Rip began.
I shook my head. “Romeo might not be the only person checking bags,” I interrupted. “Or maybe he'll even be sick. Or reassigned to a different place tomorrow. You'd be a sitting duck as soon as you walked in there with that package. If anything went wrong, there'd be no way for you to get out of there without raising suspicion at the very least.”
“Cherri wouldn't have proposed that plan if she thought something might go wrong,” Rip said confidently. “Even if Romeo gets sick or something like that, he'll show up. And even if there's someone else checking bags with him, he'll make sure that everything happens the way that it needs to.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “But don't you think you might raise some suspicions when you show up three times this week and get your bag confiscated every time? Especially given that you'll be showing up to see your ex-fiancée, apparently.”
“Maybe we've rekindled our romance,” Rip said. “No one else is going to know what's in the package. For all anyone knows, I could be trying to smuggle her, I don't know, sex toys or something like that. They'll know it's contraband, but they won't realize it's guns. Romeo will 'destroy' the contraband, and that'll be the end of it.”
“Have you ever even written to this ex-fiancée while she's been in jail?” I asked impatiently, wondering why he didn't seem to understand the risks. Did he think he was invincible or something? Maybe I was dealing with someone even more foolishly dangerous than I'd realized.
But Rip was silent at that, staring impassively at me as he took another long sip of whiskey. “I'll give you that,” he finally said. “You're right, it's a bit weird. But I don't think I could bring in all three packages at the same time. They wouldn't fit into a single backpack, and then Cherri would have to find some way to slip all three of them to Cat at once. It makes sense for me to bring them one at a time. And there can't be three different ways to slip contraband into the place; the prison system isn't that bad.”
I sighed. Well, acceptance of the risk was the first step. Now to get him to think beyond that…
“What do you care anyway?” Rip asked. “I would have thought you'd be glad to get rid of me.”
“I will be,” I
snapped, even though I didn't really know what I was feeling for him at the moment. I remembered reading once, in my freshman pysch class, about Stockholm Syndrome. That must be why I was having these confusing feelings of lust and whatever else for him. Nothing more than that…
I shook my head. “The thing is, if you get caught with these packages, I'm afraid I'm going to get into trouble as well. There are plenty of people who can link the two of us together over the past few days, from motel staff to waitresses to Barry and Hollande and Cherri. I'm just looking out for my best interests.”
“I don't believe you,” Rip said succinctly. He shrugged a little. “I saw you with Barry. You were out the door before you'd even really thought things through. You just knew he was your brother and that you had to help him. Whatever the consequences. You're a good person; you don't just look out for your own best interests.”