by Barnes, Vivi
The word “projects” makes my stomach flip. Jen pulls the door shut behind her, leaving me with nothing but a file full of sorrow and questions I’m not sure I’ll ever find answers to.
Laughter from outside startles me from my reflective thoughts. Jen conveniently left me logged in to the computer, so I do a quick search through the files of the database. I find a file on Z, but every space is filled with the same word: Classified. With the exception of the comments field, which contains a simple line: If you’re that desperate to know something about me, close this file and get a life. I press my lips together to suppress a grin, despite everything. He’s such an ass. I just wish I knew what he was planning.
You’re just another one of his projects.
Jen’s words join hands with Sam’s from days ago: I told Nancy it looks like it’s going to end the same as your other projects.
I grow cold as the realization of exactly what this project is sinks in.
Z is outside starting his bike. His smile seems genuine as he sees me walking toward him. “What took you so long?”
“Nothing. When did you get the bike back?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light.
“Early this morning. I caught a ride to school with Sam while you were sleeping. I figured you’d be out for a while. Here,” he says, handing me a cell phone. “This is for you. From Nancy. We all have one.”
A cell phone. I should be happier about it, feel like I belong somewhere finally. It’s just that I don’t know where “there” is. I do make a mental note to call Mr. Bronson later and quit Slice of Happy. I won’t be going anywhere near the Carters, that’s for sure.
Z puts his helmet on and revs the engine as I climb behind him. As usual, the sensation of flying down the road behind him sends my adrenaline pumping, my heart racing. The way people describe the “thrill of the road” totally makes sense to me now. Today, the cool wind brushing against my skin is especially cleansing, though it can’t do anything to erase my suspicions.
Z drives the bike slowly over the river, bouncing on the old slats of the wooden bridge. He pulls off and conceals the bike in the thick of the brush. We walk hand in hand up the path until we finally reach the waterfall.
I follow him along the narrow path between the small pond on the left and the ravine on the right to reach the cascade of water bouncing playfully off the rocks. The cool spray of mist from the falls is refreshing after the long, hot climb. We take off our shoes and wade carefully into the cold water, climbing onto a large, smooth, flat rock in the center. I lie back on his jacket as Z starts telling me about the people in the house. He’s unusually talkative, and before long I’m caught up in the details of each person—their personalities as well as what they bring to the house.
“Micah acts like a big goof, I know,” Z says. “He’s a prankster. But he’s the best at creating and debugging software, proxy sites, pretty much everything. The best part is that no one outside our house takes him seriously. He can get away with anything and no one would know.”
“And Dutch is the youngest, right? Is he in middle school?”
“Sixth grade. He’s a genius, though. You can ask him any algebraic question and he’ll give you an answer almost without thinking about it.”
I prop myself up on my elbow to look at him directly. “Jen doesn’t seem to like me very much.”
“I’m sure you can guess why,” he mutters without looking at me.
“But exactly what kind of relationship did you have with her? I’m sure she’s not just crushing on you.”
“She was never really my girlfriend.”
“But you did have a relationship.”
He doesn’t have to say anything; his eyes answer my question. “Z, just tell me, what happened between you two?”
He exhales as his hand moves to stroke my side, but I brush his fingers away. I won’t let him distract me this time. “I brought Jen to the house a year ago. She might have…misunderstood my intentions. I was too friendly with her, I guess.”
”Friendly? The same kind of friendly you are with me?”
His eyebrows rise at that, but his voice remains steady. “Jen was different from you. She was really into the fact that I had a motorcycle, that I had a lot of money, that I was the ‘bad boy.’ That’s one of the reasons I changed the way I dressed. I was tired of attracting the shallow end of the pool.”
It bothers me that he can so easily blow her off. “So it was all her, huh? You didn’t do anything to encourage her?”
“Relentless, aren’t you? Okay, so maybe I made her think she was more special to me than she actually was. I guess I should feel kind of bad about that, especially since it’s making her hate you so much. But she was never that nice, believe me.”
I lean back and rest my arm over my face. Would he do the same to me? Is he just using me? He shifts slightly, tugging my arm away from my face. “What are you thinking?”
“Just feeling bad for her. What you did was terrible, and I can’t imagine…” I can’t even finish that thought.
His eyes are wide, worried. “You know it’s not the same with you, right? I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I don’t know.”
“Liv, please.” He wraps his hand around mine, his eyes intent on me. “I swear it’s not the same. You and I…we’re real.”
I shouldn’t believe him, considering his history, most of which I don’t know. But I’m not sure. Maybe it’s the intensity of the promise, the anxiety in the eyes of this normally cool and self-possessed guy. Until I know the truth, though, I can’t trust him a hundred percent, and that knowledge sucks. Still, I smile a little and he seems to relax. I put a finger over his lips as he leans toward me. “I’m not done.”
He groans, resting his forehead on my chest. “I didn’t think you were.”
My thoughts move quickly now. Despite everything, I don’t really want to throw Jen under the bus just for showing me my file. “I’ve heard people say you’re a recruiter, and I’ve heard the word ‘project’ thrown around a few times. What project are you working on, Z? A new recruit?” I keep my voice innocently curious, my eyes fixed on him.
His head snaps up, his expression very still, stone-like. My heart sinks—Jen was right about that, at least.
“Let’s see, you recruited Jen, right? And Maggie.”
I tick them off my fingers as I say their names. Maggie was just a guess, but by the way the corners of his eyes twitch nervously, I know I’m right. I continue, keeping my voice calm though I’m dreading the next words. “I thought so. Then, let’s see, you also recruited…me.”
He pushes himself up to his knees, jaw set. But he still doesn’t say anything.
“You recruited me, like you recruited Jen. You knew everything about me. Everything. All tucked away nicely in a little file. And I’m going to end up like her, aren’t I?” Though it’d be a cold day in hell before I’d stick around to be bitter while he brought home other girls.
“No!” His voice is firm, but there is no regret in his expression. “I told you, you are not like Jen. Not like any of them.”
“You lied to me.” I say it like I’m talking about the weather. Calm and simple.
His mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out. He shakes his head as I stare him down. “I didn’t lie.”
“Yes, you did. You preyed on me from the very beginning, trying to make me feel special, but the whole time…”
“So now I’m a criminal and a liar, right? Yeah, my plan was to invite you to Monroe Street. I thought you were perfect for us. Thought we could help you get out of the system. And I did try to let you off the hook when I realized how much I…when I realized you weren’t cut out for this. Which is why Sam is pissed at me, too.”
Off the hook? “You tried to let me off the hook? I didn’t see a whole lot of that going on, Z. Or, I don’t know, was making out with me your way of letting me off the hook?”
He swings around and slides down into the water, making his way
to the shore. Wait, he thinks he has the right to be mad? I follow him to the bank, wincing as the icy water bites into my skin.
He turns to face me as I scramble up the slippery bank. “You think I played you? You think this is all some game for me?”
“Isn’t it?” I step forward but slip and fall on the slick grass. He offers his hand, which I slap away. He reaches down to pull me up by the arms. His chest is rising and falling faster as he glares at me. Then the emotion in his eyes turns from anger to something different, raw and hungry. The sudden shift in his expression makes my body ache, but I try to ignore it.
He kisses me hard, his lips slipping over mine in the soft spray of mist, shocking me. I push against him until I break free, then slap him in the face. Hard.
He looks as stunned as I feel. He opens his mouth as if to say something then closes it. “I’m sorry,” he says, rubbing his cheek. “You’re right. I didn’t mean to drag you into all this. I mean, I did then, but now…” His eyes drop to my feet. “I get why you’re mad, but this isn’t a game for me. Not anymore.”
He turns to walk away. I almost let him go, but something inside me stirs as the memories flood over me like a wave—the concern and anger in Z’s eyes after Derrick’s attack, the gentle pressure of his lips against mine, his arms warm around me, making me feel safe. His eyes telling me what his words don’t.
I’m furious that he knew everything and kept it from me, but at the same time, I know he’s not trying to hurt me. When he told me about the operation at Monroe Street, I didn’t run from him. So why am I so angry now? Because he didn’t tell me he knew about my shitty past? That information is pretty much a matter of public record.
My head hurts. In my mind I know it’d be stupid to stay with someone I can’t fully trust. But my heart disagrees. I can’t deny this—whatever this is. Right or wrong, I stretch my arm to take his hand in mine and pull him back to me.
His eyes widen in surprise as I reach up to twist my fingers into his damp hair and pull him down to me, to press my mouth against his. This time it’s me driving the kiss, forcing his lips apart with mine, locked with an intensity that’s frightening. His hands slide down my body to rest on my hips, then around to pull me closer until we’re melded together. My leg slides up against his and my body goes limp as he wraps his hand around the outside of my thigh, hitching me up until I’m lifted off the ground. The warning bells clang in my mind but the pounding of my heart drowns them out. He sets me back on my feet, his breathing as labored as mine.
“Come on, you’re getting soaked.” His voice is rough but his eyes are shining. I let him lead me away from the falls, across the narrow path to the clearing. We lie down on the warm, dry grass and listen to the sound of the rushing water as the sun’s rays soothe my damp skin.
Z leans over and traces the outline of my face with his finger. “I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this.”
“I don’t agree with what you guys do,” I tell him. I’m going for total honesty, and I’m hoping he does the same. “But I know that I have nowhere else to go.”
“You know you’re going to have to do it, too.”
I don’t know that I can steal like that, no matter how easy it is or how much he tries to justify it. But I refuse to go back into foster care. I can do whatever I have to do to stay out of the system until I turn eighteen. “Just promise you’ll stop keeping secrets from me.”
His eyes shift away. “Okay.”
I put a finger under his chin and tilt it toward me. “Promise?”
He nods. His lips meet mine, then slide down my jawline to my neck. A pleasant tingling sensation moves throughout my body at his touch.
“When are you going to tell me your name?” I ask, since we’re speaking of not keeping secrets. Even more, I want to see how much he trusts me.
“Mmm…?”
“Your name?” I push on his shoulders until he looks up at me. I touch a fingertip lightly to the slight pink blotch on his cheek where I slapped him. “Your real name.”
“My legal name is Z.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know, and there’s no record of you. No, I want to know your real name. The one you were born with, the one not even Sam knows.” Or Jen.
He doesn’t say anything. The warmth inside me begins to chill. “If you don’t trust me with that, how can I trust you enough to stay at the house?”
He bows his head, the blond hair falling forward so I can’t see his eyes. “It’s important to you, isn’t it?”
“Obviously.”
“I promised myself I would never tell anyone. Never.” His voice is barely audible. I get the feeling he’s trying to convince himself more than me.
“What are you afraid of?”
“Everything,” he whispers. It’s a strange admission, coming from him, but one that I kind of get. To tell me his name is to trust his entire life to me. Maybe he’s not ready for that. Am I?
I brush his hair back and he gazes at me, his eyes a deep well of painful memories. I’m not the only one who’s gone through hell. I touch a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell me right now. Tell me when you’re ready.” I want him to do it because he wants to, not because I guilt-tripped him into it.
He nods, his face serious as he fans my damp hair across my shoulder. “I promise.”
Interestingly, for the first time in my life, and regardless of all the crap Z is involving me in, I’m starting to trust my feelings. I really like him. I almost feel like I could trust him.
Even though there’s still a part of me that warns against it.
Chapter Nineteen
“She was not past seventeen. Cast in so slight and exquisite a mould; so mild and gentle; so pure and beautiful; that earth seemed not her element, nor its rough creatures her fit companions.”
—Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist
Z
My life has always been so easy when it comes to girls. I’ve never had a problem manipulating their emotions. I know how they react to me—to my looks, my attitude, my money. I know what they want, and I give it to them in order to get what I want. There’s never been a time that I haven’t been in control.
Until now.
Liv is different. I tried treating her like all the rest until I accidentally fell… I choke on the word, even in my thoughts. I don’t want to be in love. Love causes nothing but trouble, and it gets in the way of business. I’ve been fine with my life so far. Why would I want to screw it up?
Liv stirs next to me. She’s a restless sleeper. In all three nights that she’s been here, she hasn’t spent a single one in her own bed. Sharing a bed with a girl just to sleep is new for me. Girls I’ve recruited in the past, like Jen, were always very quick to let me know they were interested in much more. It was too easy.
I wince at the thought of Jen. I admit, I let that one go way too far. Like with Maggie, it’s my fault she’s so bitter.
In the stream of morning light through the window I can see the corner of Liv’s lips turn upward, and I smile. Must be a good dream. I touch her cheek with one finger and kiss her forehead as she sleeps. I wish I could protect her from the world, because the world sucks. I’d do anything to keep Liv from having to go through more hell.
She shifts slightly toward me, her gold locket sliding down her neck. I stare at it for the longest time, remembering my promise to tell her everything. But she’s been hurt so many times. How do I know this time would be different?
I reach a hand over the side of the bed to the windowsill and feel around for my glasses. Using a fingernail, I pry the little heart open and peer closely at the tiny pictures within. On the right is a young woman, not much older than Liv and so like her in the face, with the same large brown eyes. The picture on the left is of her grandfather and grandmother. I stare at the man’s smiling face. Smiles can hide everything and tell a person nothing. I press it closed, just in time for Liv to sigh and slowly open her eyes, focusing on me.
“Good morning,” I say, brushing her hair
back over her ear.
“Mmm…good morning,” she says, her voice thick with sleepiness. “What time is it?”
“Six forty-five. Time for school.”
She stretches, catlike. “Mmm…don’t want to go.”
“I know. But there are only a few days left.”
She frowns. I know what’s on her mind, though she won’t admit it. There’s a possibility Derrick could be at school, waiting for her. Nancy’s nervous that he’ll have the cops on us here, but I know that scum like him are usually too afraid to involve the police until they get their own story straight. And if he went to the police…the thought of that makes me laugh.
There is something else that worries me, though. Starting this afternoon, Nancy says I’m to get Liv involved with our cyber activities. We haven’t talked about it since the waterfall, though I’m sure she knows it’s coming. I just don’t know how she’s going to react.
“I have something for you.” I reach back to my nightstand and lift the small blue box. Her eyes widen as I open the lid to reveal a thin gold bracelet.
“Oh, Z, it’s beautiful.” She lifts it up to gaze at it.
“It was my mother’s,” I whisper as I watch the gold strand flex through her slender fingers. “It’s the only thing I kept of hers.”
I take it and gently fasten it above her hand, then kiss the inside of her wrist. The one thing I have that means something to me now rests on the only person who means everything to me.
Her hand strokes my cheek. “Thank you,” she says softly.
I lean down to press my lips to hers, then her chin, her jaw, her neck, loving how she tilts her head back to give me better access. I let my fingers trail down her side to pull her closer to me.
A noise from outside brings me back to myself. Keeping my self-control around this girl is not easy.
“Come on.” I pull her up and kiss her lightly before she heads back to her room to change. I go into my bathroom to splash cold water on my face—thank God for whoever invented cold water—brush my teeth, and slip on a pair of jeans. I head downstairs, making it out the door before Nancy has a chance to remind me about this afternoon. Liv meets me at the bike and we head to school.