We step into a tiny bereft courtyard littered with cigarette butts and torn chocolate wrappers. There’s a flaking wooden chair propping open the door and through it I can hear the noises from the salon wafting in our direction as all the women start nattering away again in Spanish at ninety miles an hour.
Marisa turns to face me with her arms crossed over her chest and stares at me, and for a second I’m completely taken aback by the similarity between her and Jay. They’re cousins, but they could be siblings. OK, so she’s about a foot shorter and a whole lot rounder, but they have the same beautiful skin and, though she has brown eyes, they’re framed by the same thick dark lashes. She also has that exact same arched eyebrow thing going on.
‘So, you wanted to talk to me?’ she asks, her curiosity obviously piqued, even though her posture is weary, bordering on defensive. I notice her nails are painted with a complicated tropical flower pattern that must have taken hours to do.
‘It’s about Jay,’ I tell her, looking up.
Instantly her expression switches, her arms drop to her sides and she steps closer. ‘Where is he?’ she says, breathlessly. ‘Is he OK?’
I nod again and the relief that floods across her face makes something in my gut twist painfully. She has no idea what danger he’s still in.
‘He’s nearby,’ I say. ‘But he’s in trouble. We’re in trouble.’
‘Hang on,’ she says, suspicion saturating her voice. ‘Who are you?’
‘My name’s Liva, I’m a friend of his.’
Her eyebrows shoot up at that and I suppress a silent growl. Why’s it so inconceivable Jay and I could be friends?
‘What happened? Where is he?’ she demands.
‘We need your help.’ I realise how desperate I sound and try to rein it in. Jay had seemed confident that she would help, but now I’m standing here in front of her, bracing myself against her suspicious gaze, I’m not so sure.
‘Well, why isn’t he asking himself?’ she asks me.
‘He tried calling the salon but when he asked to talk to you your boss hung up on him.’
‘That was him?’ Marisa asks. ‘Gloria thought it was my boyfriend. She doesn’t allow us to take personal calls.’
‘He couldn’t come himself because we were worried someone might recognise him.’
Her jaw tightens and I take that as a sign she knows something about last night and the trouble he’s in with this gang.
‘I am going to kill Teo when I get my hands on him,’ she spits.
‘So you know what happened then?’ I say, relieved that I don’t have to explain it all.
‘No. I just heard that Teo was messed up in something and got Jay involved, the idiot.’ I’m not sure if she’s referring to Jay or to Teo as the idiot, but she carries on. ‘Then I heard Jay got arrested – is it true he stole a car?’
I nod.
She rolls her eyes heavenward and says something in Spanish, which it’s easy to guess the meaning of.
‘And is it true he escaped from the police?’
‘Well, yeah, we did. But only because the choice was that or staying around and getting killed.’
Her eyes go wide and her hand flies to her mouth. ‘Mio Dio! ’ she whispers. ‘It’s true then, he was at the police station last night. The one in Brooklyn that got hit?’
I nod.
She swallows rapidly, her eyes darting across the courtyard. ‘I tried calling Tia Lucia this morning after I couldn’t get hold of Teo but she wasn’t answering her phone. I was going to go over there straight after work.’
‘No, don’t do that. Stay away,’ I tell her, thanking God she didn’t go there this morning.
She glares at me, her lips pursed together. ‘What is going on?’
‘We were both at the police station last night when it got hit. We made it out of there, thanks to Jay.’ I close my eyes as a wave of nausea hits me. ‘But now we’re in trouble. Big trouble.’
Her face darkens. ‘What kind of trouble? What’s all this about? Is it that gang Teo’s involved with?’
I shake my head. ‘No. Look, I can’t explain. We’re not entirely sure what’s going on but we didn’t have anywhere else to go.’
‘What do you need?’ she asks immediately and I see the fire in her eyes, the fierce pride that I saw in Jay’s when I first met him.
‘A place to stay. Just until tomorrow morning,’ I tell her quickly.
‘Marisa!’ The boss lady with the Edward Scissorhand nails sticks her head around the door. ‘Five minutes is up.’
Marisa nods at her and moves towards the door. As she passes, she presses something into my hand. ‘Here, give these to Jay.’ She looks at her watch. ‘It’s almost six. I’ll be home as soon as I finish work, around seven. But tell him I want to talk to him.’
I glance down at the keys she’s given me. ‘Thank you,’ I say.
She pauses in the doorway to look back at me, her brow furrowing. ‘Be careful.’
26
I duck into the alleyway where Jay is hiding out and slam straight into someone. I’m about to let out a scream when familiar hands squeeze me by the arms.
‘Woah, Moneypenny, it’s only me.’
‘Jesus, you scared me,’ I say, looking up at Jay. ‘What were you doing?’
‘I was coming looking for you,’ he says, letting me go. ‘You were ages.’
‘We were talking. Here.’ I show him the keys. ‘She gave me these.’
Jay takes the keys from me, his face brightening. ‘Come on,’ he says, ‘let’s go.’
‘Is it far?’ I ask.
‘About four blocks.’
‘Wait,’ I say, and I pull the cap from my head and stick it on his, pulling it down low over his face so his eyes are in shadow.
‘Thanks,’ he says, and for a moment it seems like he’s going to say something else but then he thinks better of it.
We walk straight on to the street and Jay suddenly takes my hand. Instantly I feel that connection, my body relaxes. I feel stronger with him at my side. He’s holding the go-bag in his other hand and I take a surreptitious glance behind him and spy the shape of the Glock tucked against the small of his back. He’s lucky the T-shirt is loose enough that it’s not obvious to anyone unless they’re looking. I have wrapped the NYPD sweatshirt around my waist to hide mine because my tank top clings too tight to disguise much of anything.
Jay takes us a back route to Marisa’s apartment, which is a tiny one-bedroom place above a pizza delivery restaurant. The smell of peperoni and garlic follows us up the stairs and into the living room and makes my stomach growl.
Jay bolts the door behind us and puts the chain on. I take the bag from him and root through it for the doorstopper and then slide that beneath the gap at the bottom. We both stand back and observe our security measures. The door doesn’t look that sturdy and the doorstopper looks like a comical afterthought, like trying to stop a bullet with a tray. We’ve seen that those guys will stop at nothing. But they’d have to find us here first. Is that likely? We seem to have shaken them off our tail – maybe the credit card trick worked – and they’d probably not expect us to come near Jay’s neighbourhood either. I think we’re safe for the moment. I hope so, as I really don’t want Marisa dragged into anything bad.
Jay seems familiar with Marisa’s place, helping himself to glasses from the cupboard over the sink and filling them with water before raiding another cupboard above the fridge, opening an old ice-cream container and finding a clearly meant-to-be-secret stash of chocolate.
He breaks the bar in two and hands it to me. I take it and break off a square, realising I’m famished.
Jay drops down on to the sofa beside me. He leans forward and rests his head in his hands.
‘Are you OK?’ I ask. It’s a dumb question and as soon as it’s out of my mouth I regret it.
‘Yeah, I’m just worried about my mom,’ he says. His foot beats an angry rhythm against the floor. ‘And Teo.’
‘I’m sure your mum�
�s OK,’ I say. ‘We could try calling Agent Kassel again if you think that would help.’
‘I want to find Teo. He might know something. Maybe my mom’s called him. And I need to find out what went down with the Blades.’
I can’t help feeling a spurt of anger towards Teo, even though I’ve never met him. He’s dragged his brother into this shit storm and has now bailed on him, leaving him to handle the flack alone.
‘So you’re the youngest, huh?’ I ask, trying to get him to focus on something else.
‘Yeah,’ Jay says, settling back into the sofa. ‘Luis is twenty-three. Teo is twenty-one.’
‘How old are you?’ I ask.
‘About to turn twenty.’
‘Wow, your poor mum had her work cut out for her when you were little.’
‘Nothing like she has now,’ Jay answers grimly. ‘You know, after my dad left, my mom never complained. She just went out and got a job and made it work. She busted her ass every day so she could make sure we never wanted for anything, and they repay her by joining the Blades and getting mixed up in all this shit.’
I put a hand on his forearm, feeling the hardness of muscle, rigid with anger.
‘But you were the good one, huh?’ I ask, remembering what Mrs Francis said, and wanting to distract him from his anger.
Jay laughs under his breath, ‘Yeah, really good. I’m the one who just got busted for car theft.’
‘I told you, we’ll sort that out. I promise you, there are ways.’ I know this from my mother who once defended oil corporations when they were accused of things like illegal drilling. There are always ways. Bad guys walk free all the time. Not that Jay is a bad guy, but the principle still applies.
‘Yeah, there are ways if you have money and a good lawyer,’ Jay snaps.
‘We’ll get you one. Stop worrying about that.’
His eyes blaze for a second at me and I know I’ve hit him in his Achilles heel – his pride.
‘So, what makes you the good one?’ I ask, trying to break the tension.
He glances sideways at me and then throws his head back against the sofa.
‘I’m the one who got straight As all through school, got a place at college,’ he sighs.
‘You’re going to college?’ Again I want to smack myself for not disguising the surprise in my voice.
I catch the look he gives me and my insides shrivel. ‘Yeah,’ he says, ‘I got a scholarship to study automotive design at the University of Michigan.’
‘Wow,’ I say, impressed. ‘Car design?’
His face lights up. ‘Yeah. All my life I’ve been obsessed with cars. And then Father Gomez got me into racing. I started off on dirt bikes and—’
‘Father Gomez?’ I ask.
‘The local priest. He likes to make projects out of some of the boys in the neighbourhood, the ones he thinks have potential to make something more out of their lives, you know? Be role models for the others.’
His face has transformed as he speaks, fire burning in his eyes, passion filling his voice, and something catches in my throat as I watch him.
‘It’s kind of an anti-gang project. Not that he calls it that. But it works. There was a boy in Teo’s class at school – used to be a choirboy alongside him – and now he’s working as an architect. Another one who’s an NFL coach. I was going to college this fall . . .’
Suddenly he breaks off and the brightness vanishes. ‘Was,’ he says. ‘Guess I can kiss that dream goodbye now. I’m not even going to be here in the fall.’
I don’t know what to say to that. I want to ask him what he means. Is he referring to the fact he might be behind bars by then, or is he planning on trying to run? I want to tell him again that it will be OK, that my father will help, that we’ll figure something out, but I remember the look of wounded pride he shot my way when I suggested it before, and the scepticism behind it too. And he’s right. We don’t even know where we’ll be this time tomorrow, let alone in a couple of months. But as I sit here, beside this boy I hardly know, I’m aware that the thought of not seeing him again makes panic shoot acid through my veins.
Jay runs his hands through his cropped hair and then stands up, shaking out his shoulders. ‘Back in a minute,’ he says and he walks off, disappearing into what I assume is the bathroom. I hear the tap running and take the opportunity to wander through the apartment. I am guessing Marisa lives here alone because it feels very much like a girl’s apartment – stacks of gossip magazines sit on the coffee table, a vase filled with flowers perches on top of the television, a shopping list is tacked to the fridge. On the wall there’s a framed photograph of Marisa with her arm around an enormous boy. Both of them are wearing high school graduation gowns and are grinning with delight at the camera. And then there’s another one of Marisa with an older woman who I’m guessing is her mother and another girl, a little older and a lot bigger – maybe it’s Jay’s other cousin, Maria – the one he said liked donuts.
Out the window I watch the busy street below, but when I realise that I’m scanning it, on alert for any sign of police, I draw the curtains. Am I always going to be like this? Running scared? Suspicious of anyone in a uniform? I push the thought away. Along with every other thought. I’m acutely aware that I’ve been forcing myself all day not to think about what happened to the Goldmans or what happened at the police station. Every time my mind wanders there, I shut it down. I keep pacing the apartment, trying to distract myself, trying to find other things to focus on.
I peer into Marisa’s bedroom. There’s a double bed made up with a patchwork quilt and a mountain of pillows which siren-calls my name. But I turn away from it. The tiredness I felt earlier is back, as is the headache pulling behind my eyes, setting up a gentle throbbing beat, but Marisa is going to be home soon and wouldn’t much appreciate finding me in her bed, I doubt. And I’m not sure I could sleep anyway.
I notice the dressing table bowing under the weight of about fifty bottles of nail polish and a metal make-up box so big it looks like it could be used to transport nuclear warheads. I’m half tempted to walk over and take a look in her mirror and maybe borrow the hairbrush I can see sitting on the side, but I’m too scared of what I might see staring back at me in the mirror, so instead I walk into the little kitchenette and idly start opening cupboards.
They’re full of ingredients I hardly recognise – cooking not being my strong point thanks to having grown up in a house with a cook. The refrigerator is loaded with fresh fruit and vegetables, a half-eaten lasagne, cans of Diet Coke and more chocolate. My mouth waters. Man, I’m so sick of having to watch what I eat. What was it Jay said to me about not having to worry about counting calories? I smile a little to myself as I remember his eyes tracing their way down my body, the trail of warmth they left.
Just then the front door rattles and I almost jump out of my skin.
‘Hey, let me in!’
I recognise Marisa’s voice. The surge of adrenaline evaporates, leaving me shaky as I run to the door, remove the doorstopper and slip off the chain. She bustles in, looking me over warily before scanning the apartment.
‘Where’s Jay?’ she asks, dropping her handbag on to the floor.
The bathroom door opens bang on cue and Jay appears. He’s stripped off his T-shirt and is standing there in just his jeans, with a towel thrown over one shoulder. He’s shaved and he looks younger as a result, not that my attention is on his face for long because it’s quickly diverted by his chest. I properly look this time – I can’t help myself – drawing in a breath that I hope isn’t audible. I was right about him having the upper body strength of a dancer or at the very least, an athlete. His shoulders and pecs are exceedingly well defined and the lines of his stomach traceable. Not that I’m thinking about tracing them. Then my view is blocked, as Marisa throws herself into his arms and I have to mentally remind myself that she’s just his cousin.
Jay holds her tight as she clings to him and another pang hits that I fight to stifle. She barely
comes up to his collarbone, but when she pulls away eventually she keeps hold of him by the tops of his arms. I notice her bottom lip is trembling and her chest is heaving up and down. Then, without warning she smashes Jay in the arm and he lets her go.
‘Ow! What was that for?’
Tears pour down her face. ‘For being an idiot. What were you thinking? You know what this is going to do to your mom? To all of us?’
‘You don’t need to remind me, OK?’ he answers tersely.
‘The whole neighbourhood is talking about it. They’re saying you took a job that Teo was meant to do and you got arrested. Are you crazy? You got the Blades looking for you and the police?’ To her credit she doesn’t finish that sentence with and you came here?
‘I didn’t know what else to do,’ Jay says, and for a moment they just stand there, eyes locked. Marisa with her hands on her hips and Jay, shoulders slumped.
‘Where’s Teo?’ Marisa demands finally. ‘Where’s your mom? I can’t get hold of either of them.’
Jay glances at me over her head. ‘She’s, um . . . we think maybe the FBI has her.’
Marisa blinks at him and doesn’t say anything for about ten seconds straight. Then her legs give out and she collapses down on to the sofa, making the cushions bounce. ‘The FBI?’ she asks, starting to rock back and forth.
Jay nods, sitting beside her. She turns towards him and clutches his knees. ‘What do you mean, the FBI? Is this something about Teo? Is it something to do with the Blades? What’s going on?’
Jay gestures with his hands for her to calm down. ‘We don’t know for sure,’ he says. ‘We think it’s something to do with Liva.’
Marisa turns to me and shoots me with a gaze so lethal I feel as if she’s bolt-gunned me to the wall.
‘With her?’ she spits, staring at him like he’s lost his mind. ‘Then why are you mixed up in it? Or your mom? What’s the FBI got to do with any of it?’
I glare at Jay – couldn’t he have found a better way to explain things to her than making me the scapegoat?
Jay catches my glare and gives me an apologetic look in response.
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