by Barnes, Vivi
He jumps to his feet and heads for the door.
Oh, jeez. “Wait,” I say, following him. He stops as I slip my hand into his. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like that. I’m just not ready yet, I guess.”
He pulls me to him and buries his face in my hair.
“Jack?”
His grip around me is tight. I push on his chest, noticing his heart pounding quicker than usual under my hands. He releases me and turns back to the monitor. “Don’t worry about it,” he says in a softer voice. “I’ll finish this, then you can do one tomorrow.” He types the information and presses enter to activate the transfer. It takes him all of ten seconds. Then he leaves the office without looking at me.
I collapse into the chair and stare at the screen. I hate to disappoint him, but I don’t think I can do this. And the fact that he can so easily makes me worry that this is just one more situation in my life that isn’t going to work out.
Chapter Twenty
“’But tonight he’s a thief, and a liar, and all that’s bad. Ain’t that enough for the old wretch, without blows?’”
—Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist
Jack
In my room, I slam the door and take a deep breath. I sink onto my bed and rest my head in my hands. Liv’s hesitation is not about ability, as this was one of the easier transfers. It’s the act of stealing that’s bugging her. And I really, really wish it wasn’t, because she’s making me think twice about it.
I didn’t ask for this!
She’s not like Jen or Maggie, or any girl I’ve known. Liv isn’t impressed with the bike, the money, the show. She likes me for me.
At the same time, I know I can get her to do this. She doesn’t like stealing, but she’ll do it for me. On the surface, she’s an easy target, the perfect recruit, but damn if her questions don’t make me wonder why I’m getting her involved with this life. Or why I’m even in it myself.
I squeeze my eyes closed and try to shut out my inner voice. The fact that she might not go through with this worries me. The fact that she might bugs me even more. Sam was right—I’m in way over my head.
I know Bill will blame me if she doesn’t perform. After Jen’s issues, he won’t forgive me if Liv fails, too. And I know he won’t let her go, either. Not now. He’ll realize how I feel about her. He finds everything out eventually. He might even transfer her to another house. I try not to think about what happened to Maggie. Bill knew I cared about her, too, and that was nothing compared to Liv. The very thought of that happening again makes me sick.
But Liv has a real choice now, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.
I open my desk drawer and take out the file on Carlton Brownlow. Should I give this to her like I planned before she got attacked, let her decide what to do with it? Or finish the job and toss it? She’s been hurt so many times, I don’t want to take the chance that it’ll happen again.
I drop the file on the desk and head downstairs to seek out Sam, who I find playing the Xbox with Jen. Jen glares at me with the usual hate-filled eyes, but I ignore her. Sam sets the remote down at my gesture and follows me outside.
“What’s up?” she asks, her blond hair bobbing around as she bounces on her heels impatiently.
“Bill is supposed to be coming by soon. Have you heard anything?”
“Not really. Nancy mentioned it was sometime this week, but I don’t know when. Why?”
I hesitate for a second, not looking forward to her reaction. “I’ve changed my mind about Liv. I don’t think she can do this. You know he doesn’t have any patience, and if she doesn’t perform, he may put her somewhere else.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re saying this now?”
“And if I try to cover for her, he’ll find out. I don’t want her to have to deal with him.”
Sam snorts. “Look, Z, stop thinking with your dick. Whether you like it or not, she’s going to have to meet Bill. Everyone does. And she’ll probably fly right under the radar like the rest of us. You’re his golden boy. He doesn’t have much use for anyone else.”
“Really? What about Maggie? Remember her, or have you forgotten where she ended up?”
Sam’s face clouds over. “I don’t think that’ll happen to Liv. Besides, you know Maggie was more street-smart than Liv. She was glad to do anything for an extra buck.” Sam’s voice is slightly subdued. Of course it is. Sam was friends with Maggie.
“And look where that got her. I can’t take a chance. Liv’s got to get out of here.”
“Wait, what do you mean by that?” Her eyes narrow. She steps closer and lowers her voice. “You will leave her right here. She’s both of ours, not just yours. What will you tell Bill when he asks where she is? What will I say? You know what he’s capable of. We can’t let her go.”
I grab Sam’s arm. “Please.”
She shakes me off, looking disgusted. “You’re losing your edge, Z. She’s turning you into a marshmallow. I warned you not to fall for her, and this whole time, you didn’t listen to me. But she’s here now, so deal with it. Help her adjust or something, but don’t send her away. She’s probably a lot stronger than you give her credit for, anyway.”
Sam yanks the door open, then stops, her expression hard. “Besides, it’s mostly because of you that she’s here now. You’re the one who got her to trust us. You.”
She slams the door behind her, leaving me stunned. I sit on the step and rest my head on my arms, hating Sam, hating myself. She’s right; it’s my fault. Liv is in this mess because of me.
A low hum turns into a familiar rumble as I look up to see a long black car headed straight for the house.
Shit.
I yank open the door and run through, calling for Nancy. Others stop what they’re doing to stare at me. Nancy appears from the kitchen.
“Bill’s here.” My voice sounds higher than usual.
The emotions on her face are a conflicting mix of anxiety and excitement. As much as she knows he’s just using her, she’s still in love with Bill. It’s disgusting to me; she’s such a great person, and he’s such a—
“Z?” Liv appears next to me. I’m relieved she remembers to call me Z in front of everyone else.
I grab her hands. “You need to get up to my room. Now.”
Her eyes widen, and I realize I must look completely out of control. I try to get a hold of myself. “Bill’s here. You’re not ready to meet him face-to-face.”
But it’s too late as the front door opens. I pull Liv behind me. The entire room goes silent except for the sounds of brutal war emitting from the Xbox. Dutch moves next to me.
“Nancy?” Bill calls in his gritty voice.
Liv shifts slightly behind me, and I try to see him from her perspective. He may have been decent-looking at one time, with his ice-blue eyes and dark wavy hair. But the perpetual scowl on his scarred face and the pallor of his skin could easily cast him as a movie villain. Usually, he doesn’t get to me. I try to steady my breathing and look disinterested.
“Yes, Bill, I’m here,” Nancy says, rushing forward, twisting her hands together. She touches his arm and stretches up to kiss his cheek. He doesn’t push her away or say something rude, so at least he’s in a good mood. I notice a folder tucked under his arm.
“Z.” He nods at me then raises an eyebrow when I don’t respond. Great. Now he knows something’s up. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” I try to keep my voice level.
“Where is she?”
I squeeze Liv’s hand behind my back, hoping she gets the hint. “She’s not—”
“She’s right here, Bill,” Jen calls out, walking over to grab Liv’s arm and pull her to the front. I really do wish looks could kill. She’d be ashes.
Bill tilts his head toward me, then narrows his eyes and walks around the two girls, appraising Liv like she’s cattle for slaughter. “Olivia, right?”
“Yes,” she says. Her voice is strong, and her chin seems to tilt up a bit. Des
pite everything, something in me stirs—pride, maybe. She’s not one to be intimidated by someone like him.
“Got any family?”
“No.”
“Any old ties? Foster parents?”
She doesn’t say anything. Sam speaks up from the side. “She came from a foster home. It didn’t work out. They’re not in the picture.”
Bill flicks a look at Sam, who retreats a step. Shut up, Sam. Better to stay in the shadows than to tell Bill things he already knows. He wants to hear it from Liv. I grit my teeth to stop myself from moving to her side.
He turns his head slightly toward me. “Well, Z? Is she ready?”
“Almost, but not yet. She just got here.”
Sam rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything. Bill catches the look, however. My stomach lurches. He knows.
“Something going on here?” he asks, taking a couple steps closer to examine Liv. He cocks his head at me.
“No.” I look him straight in the eyes. He doesn’t believe me, I can tell. He rubs the stubble on his chin, watching me, then her.
“Very pretty, isn’t she?” His gaze cuts through me. I don’t say anything, hoping like hell he can’t see the faster rise and fall of my chest. “I’d like an assessment of her myself. See how she handles an account of her own.”
I don’t even blink, but I’m thinking as fast as I can. I need to buy time. “Sure, no problem. A week. She’ll be ready by then.” As soon as I say it I know I’m screwed. No one gets that long.
His lips flatten into a sneer as he hands Nancy a folder. “Now. Here’s her target, and it’s not a tough one. I want to see the account cracked within the next two days. I’ll come back then for my own assessment.” He turns to leave. Everyone lets out a collective breath when the door closes behind him. No one ever wants to attract Bill’s attention.
I catch Liv’s confused look and try to smile, failing miserably. “Come on.” I lead her to my room. I know she’ll have too many questions.
“What the hell was that about? What does he mean by ‘assessment’?” she asks, moving to the window and peering out through the shades.
I glance at the other folder on my desk, the one for Carlton Brownlow. Bill hasn’t asked me about it in a while. “He’s giving you an account as a test, but we need to talk about—”
A knock on the door interrupts me. “What?”
“Hey, Nancy wants you,” Sam says, peeking her head in.
“Not now.”
“Now, Z.” She looks at Liv. “I’ll be back in a sec. Nancy wants me to show you how to do the research on this file from Bill.” She tosses the folder to Liv, but I intercept it.
“That’s my job.”
“Just the research. Not the transfers.”
“Fine.” But when Sam turns around, I switch the file Bill gave her with the one on my desk and slip the other under a magazine. I hand Carlton Brownlow’s file to Liv, then brush past Sam into the hallway. “This better be good,” I mutter.
Sam follows me out, leaning against the doorjamb with a superior look on her face. “Oh, give me a break.”
“I’m not kidding. If anything happens to her…”
“What? You’ll do what? The only thing I did was exactly what you’ve done for every new recruit you’ve brought to this place. Every last one of them. Including Maggie. You’ve screwed yourself into this corner, Z. Now deal with it.”
She goes back into my room and leaves me at the top of the staircase. Nancy is pacing at the bottom.
“What do you want?” I ask as I descend to her level. I know my voice is harsh, but after what Sam said, I’m not in the mood for a friendly chat.
“Come with me,” she says quietly, leading me to the study and pulling the doors closed. “What exactly are your intentions here?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Stop it. I know you’re planning something with that girl. I saw your face. You don’t intend on letting Bill anywhere near her. What are you going to do?”
I remain still.
Nancy takes my arm. “Come on. You and I go way back, further than anyone here. You know you can trust me.”
“You’re his girlfriend…,” I start to say, but she waves a hand at me.
“Yes, but don’t think I’m stupid. I know him, and you’re like a son to me. So if my kid’s in trouble, I want to know about it. But I also need to warn you, if she refuses to do this or tries to run, Bill will have questions. And he’ll be after you for the answers.”
I pace the room in frustration. “Don’t you think I know that? Damn it, I can’t give her over to Bill.”
“Stop blowing this out of proportion, Z.”
“Stop making light of this, Nancy.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up. He’s just going to have her hack into some accounts, see where she’s strongest. No big deal. Standard stuff.”
“She can’t.”
“Of course she can.”
“No. I mean she won’t. Not even for me.”
Nancy’s expression turns from curious to concerned. “Well, she will with Bill standing over her.”
“I doubt that. She’s got it in her head that what we’re doing is wrong. Damn it.” I continue pacing.
“Oh, God, Z. How could you have slipped like this?”
I stop pacing, shocked at how pale she looks. “What do you mean, slipped?”
She lifts a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes in exasperation. “How many times have I told you how careful you need to be about bringing people in? After the disasters with Jen, with Maggie—why didn’t you make sure she’d work out before bringing her here? Bill knows that she knows about us. He’ll never let her go, you know that.”
“I know that.” I almost choke on the words. It’s my fault she’s here, and now, thanks to me, she only has two options: join us or run.
“That’s not the only problem, is it?” she asks in a tone that reminds me of so long ago, when she would comfort me after the never-ending nightmares. “Sam’s right. You’ve fallen for her.” Her eyes are sympathetic, but I want none of that.
“So what? It doesn’t matter. This isn’t for her. She doesn’t want to be a thief.” I try a different tactic. “You know she could put our whole operation in jeopardy.”
Nancy’s mouth forms a grim line. “Okay, so then what are you planning to do?”
“I’m getting her out of here.”
“She doesn’t know how to disappear like you do, Z.”
My eyes fix on the tattered first edition of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, set on a gold stand in the bookshelf. The book was once my favorite, the story of a runaway. “She won’t have to.”
Nancy doesn’t say anything, but then her eyes widen. Her hands clutch my arm in a panic. “Oh, God. No, you don’t. You aren’t running away with her. You can’t.”
It’s not that I haven’t thought about it. I didn’t think it was possible before. But now that she says it—now that it’s come down to it—I realize it’s exactly what I want to do. But all I say is, “I can get her far from here, change her name, set her up in college…something. I can do that for her. If you’re really my friend, you won’t stop us, and you can’t tell Bill. You know what he would do. Think of Maggie.”
Nancy’s shoulders sag. “Maggie was a different story. She wanted to be transferred there.”
“No, I don’t think so. Bill saw an opportunity because she was pretty and she couldn’t hack. Look what became of her.” The last words come out in a choked whisper. I still hate myself for not having the balls to stop her from leaving Monroe Street, or to get her to come back. Liv is better at hacking, of course, but if she refuses to do it—
I clear my voice. “Anyway, I’m not going to let this happen again, Nancy. You should know better than anyone what that life is like.”
Nancy looks offended, as she always does when we reference her past. “Maggie knew what she was getting into. And the ch
ances of something like that happening are slim. You’re overreacting. He’s going to put Liv through his usual crackerjack tests. Nothing else. Then he’ll leave her alone and we can go easy on her.”
“Just promise me you won’t say anything to Bill.”
“It’s not Maggie’s fate you’re worried about, is it? You think Liv’s too good for us?” Her expression is more hurt than angry. She sits on the sofa, her head down.
I sit next to her and take her hand. Nancy has been like a mother to me for so much of my life. The last thing in the world I want to do is upset her. Well, the next to last thing… “Please promise me.”
She touches my cheek. “I won’t say anything. But please, please think about what you’re doing, what you’d be giving up if you join her. As good as you are, Bill’s better. If he finds you, he’ll kill you. And I can’t protect you.”
“I know. I’ll have to take that chance. There’s no other way to get her away safely.”
I walk out of the room, pulling the door shut with a click. The lie is easy. In my mind, at least, there’s no alternative that I’m willing to consider. Nobody needs to know about Brownlow.
For the first time in a while, I’m not worried. I can run with her. It will work.
…
Liv
I stare at the monitor, stunned, the file Z handed to me loose in my fingers. Ever since my mother died, I’d believed I was alone. No cousins, aunts, uncles, siblings—nobody. But here, in the millions of people in the state, in the billions of people in the world, I find out I’m not alone.
I have family.
Not just any relative, but a grandfather. My mother’s father.
And of all things, I find him this way—as my first target. My eyes move back and forth from the enlarged picture on the screen to the tiny picture in the locket to the square picture on the file that Sam gave me. Exact same long nose, same serious gray eyes, same dark, wavy hair. If there was any doubt, the name of his deceased wife—Olivia Westfield Brownlow—put an end to that.
My stomach turns as I stare at the images. I didn’t know he was even alive. I remember asking my mother about the people in the picture when I was little, and she told me her parents died. She told me she had no family left. And I think she looked sad. Of course, she always looked sad, so I don’t know.