Out of Control

by Sarah Alderson

  Jay looks over at me then and smiles, though the smile doesn’t make it to his eyes. Maybe we’ve both seen too much? Or maybe it’s because neither of us knows what happens next? A thousand more silent words pass between us. I want nothing more than to walk over to him and curl up against his chest and tell him everything will be OK, just like he told me back on the ferry, and I’m rising to my feet to do just that when Agent Parker sits himself down beside me with a loud sigh.

  ‘You OK?’ he asks.

  I glance sideways at him.

  ‘You did a really brave thing today. Stupid. But brave. Helped a lot of people, a lot of girls.’

  I don’t say anything.

  ‘Bezrukov will get life. Lucky there’s no death penalty in New York or he’d be straight to the chair.’

  I pull the blanket closer around me.

  Agent Parker doesn’t say anything for a bit. ‘They’re processing your father, in case you’re interested. He won’t make bail.’

  ‘And Marisa and Jay’s mum?’ I ask, struggling to find my voice. ‘Are they OK?’

  ‘Yes, they’re OK. Doing fine. Both of them back at home. Jaime’s mother has been notified and someone’s spoken to your mom too. She’s already on her way here.’

  I contemplate that. What will happen to me now? Will I have to move back to Oman? I glance over at Jay and realise that I no longer care what happens to me, so long as I find a way of helping him.

  Someone steps in front of me barring my view. I look up. It’s Agent Kassel. I can’t help but glare at her, even though technically she’s not to blame for anything.

  ‘Liva,’ she says, ‘we’re going to need to take statements from both you and Jaime down at the station.’

  I nod. ‘OK, fine,’ I say. ‘But what about Jay? Are you going to arrest him again?’

  Agent Kassel shrugs at me. ‘I’m sorry, Liva, process is process. Soon as we’re finished taking his statement we’re handing him over to the NYPD.”

  I scowl at her. She already knows what I think of her process.

  45

  Because of something they call jurisdiction they take us to the nearest police station to give our statements, even though we already gave them in the subway station. Apparently there’s still more paperwork to complete. The police station’s somewhere in Harlem. The view from the roof sweeps all the way to Central Park.

  I gave my third statement, excused myself to go to the bathroom, found the fire-escape door and headed up here to the roof. I didn’t want to be there to see them take Jay away. I told them everything he’d done to save me, to save Marisa and to catch Bezrukov, but they just shrugged at me as though none of it mattered. Frustration eats at me. The only thing I can do is wait for my mum to get here and then make her do something to help him. A tiny voice in my head tells me she’s not going to do anything. She’s most likely going to be hysterical – and she’s not even qualified to practise law in the US. She’ll claim she can’t do anything. I know it. I grit my teeth. After everything we did, after everything Jay did, how can he be the one going to jail?

  I stand on the roof edge in my bare feet, feeling the asphalt burning like hot tar beneath my toes. Warm air from an air-conditioning vent rises up and blasts me. I feel I could topple forwards and it would float me back up on a current. I’m swaying and realise that I’m so tired that balancing here is an act of crazy stupidity. But I can’t seem to step away from the edge.

  My mind chugs desperately, trying to piece together all the events of the last thirty or so hours, probing to see where the fear has gone. I come up empty. There’s no more fear. Gently it tests to see what else I’m feeling. Am I still numb? No. There’s an unrelenting pain in my chest, like a bullet has tracked a path right through me, and lodged in my heart. There’s hurt and grief and guilt and regret thrown into the mix too. And I can’t imagine those are ever going to disappear either. Every night when I go to bed, every time I give my last name, every time I have to explain who my father is, I’ll have to dredge through a thousand memories. I can’t even think about my dad right now. I close my eyes and Jay’s words spring into my head.

  I can’t live my life feeling responsible for choices others made. Easier said than done. And a whole lot easier when Jay was there to look me in the eye and tell me it.

  No, I repeat to myself like a mantra. I wasn’t in control of any of it. I can’t control life. The only thing I can do is open myself up and accept everything it throws at me, wholeheartedly. Defiantly. I don’t get to quit, not when so many other people didn’t even get the choice.

  Behind me, the door eases open. I knew they’d find me eventually. I turn with a sigh, expecting to see Agent Kassel. But it’s not her. It’s Jay.

  ‘I knew I’d find you up here,’ he says.

  I stare at him in shock. He’s wearing an FBI T-shirt. The bandage on his arm is soaked with blood and the cut above his eye has been cleaned and butterfly-stitched shut. ‘What are you doing?’ I ask, breathless.

  ‘Looking for you,’ he says walking towards me. He moves gingerly as though he’s bruised all over.

  ‘They told me they were processing you,’ I say, looking over his shoulder expecting to see a cop waving some handcuffs at him. Has he come to say goodbye? My heart aches as though it’s as bruised all over as Jay. It would have been easier if he’d just left. That’s partly why I was on the roof. To avoid the goodbye. I can’t handle it.

  ‘They processed me already,’ he says reaching my side.

  ‘So why are you here?’ I ask him. Please don’t touch me, I think to myself. I can’t take that, not if I know it’s going to be the last time.

  Jay smiles at me, pulls me away from the edge. ‘You mean instead of wearing a hot orange jumpsuit and on my way to the county jail?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  His arms wrap around my waist. ‘They processed me and let me go.’

  I blink at him in confusion. ‘Let you go?’

  He gives me that half-smile. ‘Yeah. Dropped all charges. On account of how I’m a hero.’

  My eyebrows shoot up. Lightness fills me. ‘A hero?’ I say, smiling back at him.

  ‘Yeah, didn’t you know?’

  I laugh, shaking my head at him.

  He narrows his eyes in mock annoyance, pulls me tighter against him.

  ‘I do know one thing though,’ I tell him as his eyes fall to my lips.

  ‘Yeah? What’s that?’ he asks, his mind elsewhere.

  I take a deep breath, feeling like I’m free-falling off the roof.

  ‘You were right,’ I say.

  Jay looks at me quizzically.

  I reach up on tiptoe, bringing my lips to his. ‘It is worth it.’

  Acknowledgements

  So many thanks go to the following people:

  Lauren, for telling me a story involving the New York subway which whetted my appetite for setting a story there. And then for traipsing around the city with me, exploring. I’ve never had so much fun.

  Kent and Tara for lending us their fabulous house in Brooklyn, complete with chickens and the best coffee known to man.

  John and Alula, as always, for just existing and sharing the love.

  Nicola J for giving early feedback.

  Jaime Burnell for the security information.

  Daniella Burr for the Mexican slang and translation – you rock, sister.

  Craig for the brain-boosting acupuncture sessions.

  Vic and Nic for your endless support and enthusiasm for every sentence I write.

  My parents for giving me the travel bug.

  Amanda, the best agent on the planet.

  Ellie, Venetia and everyone at Simon & Schuster for all their hard work and support.

  Information on Human Trafficking

  Sex trafficking is one of most shocking crimes on the planet, one that currently affects around 2.4 million people at any given moment, mainly women and girls.

  There are many books that tell the stories (both fictionalised a
nd real) of people who have been victims of human trafficking. I urge you to read them, learn as much as you can, and then start speaking out, because it’s only when individuals speak up that change can happen.

  If you want to read more I highly recommend the books Sold by Patricia McCormick and Not for Sale: The Return of the Human Slave Trade by David Batstone.

  Other ways you can get involved in the fight against trafficking and slavery:

  Visit Notforsale.org, a campaign tackling slavery in all its forms.

  Check out Equality Now’s website and get involved in their mission to achieve legal and systemic change that addresses violence and discrimination against women and girls around the world.

  Join the Half The Sky Movement and organise a showing of one of their fantastic documentaries at your school or in your local community.

  Support the charity unseen.org.uk

  Take action via the Coalition Against Trafficking in Women and learn how to donate to their cause via your eBay sales.

  http://www.catwinternational.org/Help

  http://www.stopthetraffick.org/ has a brilliant website, with numerous ways to get involved and help support their goal of stopping slavery and trafficking at a local and global level.

  Get involved in the UN’s Blue Heart Campaign. http://www.unodc.org/blueheart/en/campaign-tools.html