Fletcher leaned down until he was breathing in my face. “You sent out that video of your girlfriend accusing the vice president of the United States of being a liar, of committing crimes against this country before she lit herself up like an explosion at a fertilizer plant.”
“I didn’t know what was on the video,” I stammered. “Sparrow told me to send it out. She even gave me the software to use.” I was scrambling.
Hawkins tried again. “Aveline was not the mastermind, Fletch. She was the pawn of a girl whose medical records reveal she had serious emotional issues and an obsession with smearing the Paternalist cause.”
I hated hearing Hawkins say that about Sparrow even though I’d said worse.
“Av-e-line,” Fletcher said, drawing my name out to three tainted syllables, “went on the run with Margaret Stanton, an extremist and accused terrorist. They fled to a radical survivalist community that had stockpiled a cache of weapons and engaged in a shootout with federal agents.”
I opened my mouth, but Hawkins shook his head no. “Aveline had no knowledge of Margaret Stanton, her political beliefs, or her crimes before she arrived at Stanton’s penthouse. Margaret Stanton demanded Aveline leave with her, giving her no other option.”
Fletcher jabbed the air in Hawkins’ direction. “Your campaign is over! I will not stump for you, and neither will any of the big boys.” He ticked three Paternalist names off on his fingers. “You are done in California!”
I had never seen anyone deny Hawkins what he wanted. Hawkins pulled himself up to his full height, his eyes narrowed and his hands defiantly on his hips.
I took a step back, as Fletcher delivered the final blow. “You have twenty-four hours to get your lawyers up to speed before I notify the authorities. I’ll see myself out.”
We listened to his shoes smack down the hall. I stood there, afraid to move and afraid not to.
Hawkins turned to me. “We’re fucked. You and I are fucked. Do you understand that?”
I didn’t nod or even blink.
“Ever since the day I met you, you’ve been screwing me over. Running around with Yates Sandell behind my back. Humiliating me with your dramatic flight to freedom. Costing me millions to create the fantasy that you were brainwashed by Exodus and Margaret Stanton and costing me even more to get you back. And now you fucking kill my campaign. Everything I worked for—destroyed!”
“I’m sorry. I—”
He grabbed my arms and shook me. “I should call the feds myself. Tell them to come pick you up right now.”
I reeled back as Hawkins released me. “Get out of my sight,” he said.
I scrambled for the door and took off down the hall.
25
Back in my room, I tore off the skirt, pulled on jeans and a jacket, and wrapped the hanging around my neck. There had to be a way out of the compound. I was not going to just let Hawkins turn me over to the feds.
He was yelling at someone on the phone, loud enough that I heard him in his office as I crept down the hall, hugging my boots to my chest. The double doors were silent as I let myself out.
Hawkins’ car collection ringed the subterranean garage, millions of dollars’ worth of gleaming performance vehicles in the first row and more lowly luxury SUVs parked behind them along the wall.
I circled the room, looking for unlocked cars, and checking to see if any had keys in them. I knew keys would be a long shot, but I thought that I’d at least find an opener for the gate clipped to a visor. No. Nothing.
I darted up the outside stairs to the parking circle and tugged on the boots, then doubled over and sprinted through the brush for the gate. My ankle was wrapped tight, but it still hurt like hell.
Cameras lined the security wall around the compound, so I prayed no one was looking at them right now. I made it to the wall and crept along, hoping I’d stay out of the cameras’ reach. Finally I got to the gate. It was solid steel, the kind that rolled back on a track. I stuck my hand through the two-inch gap between the gate and the wall and felt freedom right outside.
I braced myself, and pushed with both hands, trying to force the gate back, but it wouldn’t give. I tried twice more, throwing my whole weight against it. Nothing. I was trying to push a locomotive.
The steel was smooth. Nothing I could step on to pull myself up. I scanned the brush nearby looking for anything that might help.
It wasn’t a minute later that I heard someone whistling behind me. My legs started to shake, and I laid my head on the gate as the notes of the Seminoles’ war chant came closer.
The song petered out, and I turned around. “That gate’s not going anywhere,” Deeps said.
“Yeah, I figured that out.”
“Come on back to the house, Hummingbird,” he said gently. “You’ve got some time before the federal marshals arrive.”
“I don’t want to be inside right now.”
“We’ll hang out on the patio. Play some cards. Wait for the sunset.”
I let Deeps take my arm and we started slowly back to the house. I clenched my hands, trying to control the shaking that was taking me over.
“Is there anything you’d like?” Deeps said. “Anything I can get you?”
The feds were going to kill me. I wouldn’t make it out of L.A. County alive. Not unless I could get Deeps to help me. I stopped walking and turned to him. “You could let me go.”
Deeps groaned.
“Please. Open the gate just enough so I can squeeze through. Give me a ten-minute head start before you tell Hawkins you can’t find me.”
“Let’s not do this, Avie.”
“Please. I promise I’ll disappear.”
“I can’t, so stop asking.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to get you in trouble, but this is my life we’re talking about.”
A car flew by on the other side of the wall, and my eyes followed the beautiful sound.
“You got someone you want to talk to?” Deeps said quietly. “Maybe say good-bye?”
Yates. But Hawkins would die before he’d allow that.
“Can I see my dad?”
“I don’t know if Mr. Hawkins will approve that, but I’ll ask.”
“Thanks.”
Deeps reached in his pocket and drew out a black metallic sleeve. CELL SECURE was printed on the cover. He ripped open the Velcro and slid out my dead phone. “Here. You’ll need this for your defense.”
I turned it over in my hand. “The feds will never let me testify. They’ll kill me first.”
“What’s in those files that scares them so much?”
Really? You don’t know? “How about a recording that could get someone very high up impeached?”
“Damn. That would be worth a lot to the right person.”
The right person would never get his hands on it. If Luke had succeeded in getting the thumb drive to the reporters, Jouvert’s crimes would be all over the news. But either Luke missed his meeting, or the reporters were too scared to run the story, or they’d been permanently silenced.
How could I ever have thought we’d succeed against such impossible odds?
“Yeah, too bad you can’t cash that in. I bet the guy on the tape would pay a million bucks to keep his business quiet.”
Blackmail. The idea lit my brain like a search flare.
Could I trade this recording for my life? If I couldn’t use it to sink Jouvert, maybe I could at least protect myself. “I need to talk to Mr. Ho.”
At first, Ho didn’t want to talk, but that changed when Deeps played him the first seconds of Sparrow’s tape. Ho was suddenly so pleased to get the file, you’d think I’d given Hawkins a ten-point lead in the polls. “You were right to bring this to me,” he said. His lips smacked together like he’d eaten a juicy tidbit. “I think we can do something with it.”
I fled to my room where I bent over the toilet, and my empty stomach heaved acid up my throat. The cramping brought me to my knees, and I coughed and coughed as my body tried to rid its
elf of what I’d just done.
When the heaving stopped, I pulled myself up to the sink. The makeup I’d carefully applied was smeared and melted. I washed my face clean, then hung my hands under the water.
I heard Sparrow’s breathy whisper teasing Jouvert, the rustle of clothing, his moan. I forced my eyes wide open, trying not to picture what Sparrow had done to get Jouvert to confess to her.
She gave her life to take him down, and I just threw that away.
Oh, Sparrow. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.
My sweater was soaked and the sleeves sagged over my hands. I peeled it off and dropped it on the floor. Grape-colored bruises dotted my arms where Hawkins had grabbed me.
But desperate people do desperate things, right?
I didn’t have another way out. If I hadn’t done what I did, I would have been the next of Maggie’s contacts to go missing. The Paternalists didn’t want a public trial. They wanted silence.
I collapsed on the bed. In the eucalyptus grove at the edge of the property, I spied someone pacing and punching the air, and goose bumps ran up my arms as I saw it was Hawkins.
I hate you, I thought. I’m glad you’re suffering. You don’t deserve to win.
The afternoon crawled by as I waited for Jouvert’s response.
Deeps insisted I leave my room and come outside. He carried a couple chairs out on the terrace and tried to teach me Texas hold ’em, but I couldn’t focus. He had the chef make me chicken soup, but I threw it up. It was late in the afternoon when I tried asking him if I could call Dad and Yates. “You know I could be dead tomorrow. I just want a chance to say good-bye.”
“Mr. Hawkins said no calls until we know your status.”
“Please. I won’t ask you for anything else.”
“You have to be patient.”
“How am I supposed to do that?”
Deeps shrugged. “The sun’s going down. How about we go inside?”
“No, I want to stay out here. I want to listen to the waves.”
Deeps brought me a cashmere throw so I could sit and watch the stars come out over the ocean.
I kept imagining black SUVs barreling down Hawkins’ drive. Men in bulletproof vests, rappelling from a helicopter, and dozens of guns trained on me. Maybe there’d be an “accident” and I’d fly, shackled and handcuffed, out of the back seat of a Trailblazer off the Pacific Coast Highway and down the cliff.
The last rays of sunlight left the sky and I realized that Jouvert wasn’t afraid of anything on that tape. So what if he’d taken a trillion in bribes from the Saudis? Jouvert knew that as soon as he made a deal with the Saudis for nukes, they’d put him in the Oval Office. He’d be the next president.
The feds would take me, but then at least I’d escape being Hawkins’ wife and punching bag. I reached for Becca’s dolphin around my neck.
I walked across the still-warm terrace and curled my toes over the stone edge. Black ocean and star-spangled sky spread out before me. The wind lifted my hair and billowed the blanket around my shoulders into a sail.
For once, I was glad there was no railing between me and the water. I picked a cluster of bright stars way out over the ocean and lost myself in them.
The star twinkle made me wonder if heaven was real, and if Mom was waiting for me. I imagined her watching over me tonight, knowing I’d join her soon. She looked the way she was Before, smiling, her arms open to embrace me.
I didn’t have to wait for Jouvert to decide my fate. And I didn’t have to do what Hawkins wanted, either. I could decide. I felt my body lean, making a choice.
“Avie?” I recognized Hawkins’ voice behind me, but not the careful tone. “I was looking for you.”
All I have to do is let go.
“Avie.”
I looked over my shoulder. Hawkins hung back about ten feet.
Good-bye.
“Don’t you want to hear the good news?” he said.
A wave slammed into the rocks below, sending the force through my bones. “What news?” My voice sounded like it was coming from far away.
“Senator Fletcher has changed his mind about not campaigning for me. Actually, the entire leadership of the Paternalist movement has pledged their support. And do you know why?”
“Why?”
“Because Vice President Jouvert requested their cooperation. Once he heard a few seconds of his pillow talk with Sparrow, Jouvert was eager to help us.”
Us? “Is the government dropping its charges against me?”
“That should be settled by morning.”
I turned back to the water, dazed like I’d emerged from the wreckage of a tornado. The Paternalists would leave me alone, but now I had to survive Hawkins. I let the blanket drop and the wind threw it over the cliff. It fell in a slow jerky spiral before catching on the rocks below. A second later, a wave tore the blanket off, and it was gone.
“I wouldn’t blame you,” Hawkins said.
I didn’t respond.
“Actually, I might do the same if I were in your position.”
I peered at him. Was he pretending to understand?
“I shouldn’t have hit you. Or shaken you today. That was wrong. I apologize.”
I felt the last shreds of Fearless wake up inside me, and I stepped away from the edge. “Don’t think your apology makes things right between us, because it doesn’t. I don’t forgive you. I will never forgive you.”
Hawkins didn’t move as I skirted around him and retreated across the terrace. On the way back to my room, I replayed what had just happened: Hawkins could have let me jump, but he didn’t. He wanted something from me, I was sure of it, but I couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.
I’d know soon enough, and I probably wasn’t going to like it. But one thing I could guarantee, I would never let him hit me or shake me again. And I’d never let him touch me. Ever.
26
I was dreaming about kissing Luke when I began to awaken. We were back in the van on the side of the snowy highway, our lips breaking apart for a quick breath, before crashing together again. “Avie, come with me,” he whispered. “We’ll have a good life up in the mountains—we’ll be free.”
My eyes fluttered open, and I looked out, registering the wall and the grove of eucalyptus trees. I was in Hawkins’ compound, but where in the world was Luke?
Had Streicker’s contact given Luke a ride to the mountains or had he left Luke to fend for himself on the Denver streets? I felt sick, realizing it had been two days since I’d left him, and I wondered if he’d guessed what happened, or if he was cursing me for running away without a word.
When I turned over, there was a spray of orchids in a glass cylinder beside the bed. They were the palest pink, a flock of butterflies gathered on a stalk. I ran my finger along one waxy petal, chilled that someone had crept into my room and left them while I slept.
Nothing in this house came without a motive or strategy. Every gift had a price, and I knew I’d end up paying somehow.
Minutes later morning fog pressed against the windows, and erased the rest of the world except for the sound of the waves roaring against the rocks below. I pulled the duvet over my shoulders, wondering when Hawkins would demand to see me, and hoping that a campaign speech in San Jose or a crisis in Singapore had called him away.
When someone knocked on the door, I hesitated before I cracked it open. Deeps leaned on the door frame. “Mr. Hawkins has something planned for you. He’d like you to dress in the clothes you arrived in.”
If Hawkins insisted I wear those jeans and boots and parka, it could only mean one thing. “Why? Did he change his mind? Is he turning me in?”
“No.” Deeps pushed off the frame. “Nothing like that.”
“What then?”
“It’s good. You’ll see.”
The fog was lifting when we got into Hawkins’ helicopter. Deeps was piloting and Ho was riding shotgun. We flew over the Malibu mountains, and were a few miles inland when the sky cleared. Sun pou
red through the windshield, and I unzipped my parka and pushed it down around my waist.
We headed east through the valley. The wide open spaces of Wyoming and Colorado were erased from my mind as we flew over traffic-choked highways, dusty houses, and shopping malls. Where were we headed and why was I wearing this?
Ho and Deeps made small talk up front, acting like I wasn’t there. We’d flown about twenty minutes when I realized Deeps was heading north and east. He was taking me home.
The charges against me must have been dropped! I was going to have a fresh start!
“You’re taking me home!”
“That’s right, Hummingbird.”
Maybe Hawkins decided he was tired of dealing with me, that he’d had enough of drama and complications, and was ready to sell me back to Dad.
The hills that hugged my town came into view, covered with oak trees that spread over the winding streets, shading them. I picked out Dayla’s house and her swimming pool, and two streets over, the house where Yates grew up.
We buzzed over the public library, my elementary school, and the grocery store. I tugged on my seat belt, ready to leap out.
My house appeared from between the sycamores, and we hovered above the back lawn. The helicopter sent waves across the koi pond and swimming pool, and shot dry leaves off the trees. It felt like I’d been gone for months, but everything looked the same. I was home!
Dad came out onto the terrace. “Dad! Dad!” I waved, crazy excited. Right behind him stood Gerard, our domestic manager, holding Dusty in his arms. She squirmed as if she wanted to snatch the helicopter out of the sky like a giant Frisbee.
Deeps touched down, and I tore off my seat belt and grabbed my parka. I poised at the door, ready to throw it open as soon as the blades stopped.
Ho crawled up behind me. “You don’t need your coat.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s so warm out here.”
He peeled it out of my hands. “You’re not staying.”
“What?” I felt my heart begin to shred.
“Jessop has approved a ninety-minute visit with your father.”
I held on to the door latch. Ninety minutes, and then they’d return me to Hawkins to serve out the rest of my sentence.
A Girl Undone Page 15