by J H Leigh
Maybe I shouldn’t talk so casually about murder seeing as I’d just confessed to killing someone but I figured the only way to find out if I could trust her was to put all my cards on the table.
Kerri nodded, digesting the information. “And where are the bodies now?” she asked.
“No clue,” Dylan answered as if she didn’t care because she probably didn’t. Well, except about Jilly but Kerri hadn’t been specific. “They were sent to kill us. If it hadn’t been for me and Nicole’s spidey- sense, we’d be dead right now. They were trained professionals with silencers on their guns. What else were we supposed to do?”
“If it was self-defense, you’re protected by law,” Kerri reminded us. “Are you sure you don’t want to try and come down to the station and give a statement?”
Dylan scoffed. “Fuck no. The Avalon is clearly attached to someone with access to the CCTV feeds. I don’t trust no cops to stick to their oath when a shit ton of money is waved beneath their nose.”
“Not all cops are crooked,” Kerri tried to say but Dylan wasn’t interested and Kerri dropped that argument, switching gears. “All right, so let’s talk logistics right now. You can’t live in this church. You need a safe place to stay.”
“Seems pretty safe to me,” Dylan said, glancing around as if assessing our living space and finding it adequate even though it was abysmal and we were freezing our asses off at night. “No cameras and no one sneaking in to put a bullet in our brainpan while we sleep.”
“You also could freeze to death,” Kerri said, determining with a solid shake of her head. “It’s too cold to stay here.”
“We don’t have anywhere else to go,” I said. “It’s not like we can just waltz into a hotel and get a room. Our options are pretty limited.”
Kerri looked to Hicks, volunteering his place before he could stop her. “You can stay with Adrian. He’s got a spare bedroom and no one would think to look for you there.”
“Hold up,” Hicks protested in alarm. “My place ain’t good for kids. I’m not running a fucking daycare, Kerri.”
“And they’re not staying here. They’re not toddlers. It’s not like you need to child-proof your apartment. I’m not leaving them in this meat locker of a room to freeze to death. It’s supposed to snow tonight. Temperatures will drop and without external heat, they will die here. If you want my help, you’re going to have to pitch in, too.”
Her blunt assessment was more than I expected but when Hicks folded with a sour look I was stunned. “Fine, but don’t expect me to be some kind of gracious host or something. I’m not used to company.”
“No one would ever accuse you of being a gracious host,” Kerri returned dryly. “But it’s the right thing to do and you brought me in for a reason so try to remember that.” Something flickered between Kerri and Hicks, a remnant of feeling or emotion that maybe had to be kept under wraps, but was quickly squelched as Kerri moved on with the efficiency of a woman used to being in charge. “I’ll start discretely searching through our missing person database and look for cases that may fit the criteria for this Avalon network. In the meantime, stay out of sight, stay out of trouble and try to keep a very low profile.”
“That’s pretty much what we’ve been doing without a babysitter,” Dylan said pointedly.
Kerri didn’t take the bait. “Good. Then it should feel familiar.”
At least it would be warmer at Hicks’ apartment and I wouldn’t have to worry about rats or bugs crawling over me while I slept. Also, a toilet would be nice.
“Wait until dark before you make your move. Avoid all cameras, shield your face as much as possible,” Kerri instructed, reaching into her pocket to pull out some cash and handing it to me. “And get something to eat. You’re both very thin.”
I shared a look with Dylan. We’d been keeping a tight rein on the stolen money we’d taken from the vacation house and whatever food we were eating came from the sporadic cooking habits of a man who seemed to think of food as an afterthought.
We’d both lost weight since fleeing the auction house but I hadn’t had time to notice how my jeans were hanging from my bones. I curled my fingers around the cash, reluctant but grateful. I wouldn’t admit it aloud but I was happy to let an actual adult start calling the shots, even if only for a minute.
Dylan, not so much, but she wasn’t in a position to refuse.
I wondered how Badger would feel about his best runner being suddenly pulled out of commission. For that matter, I wondered how he handled the clean up on his apartment without tipping off law enforcement that something terrible had happened in that place.
I guess it wasn’t my problem but it weighed on my shoulders as if it were.
Kerri stood, taking one final glance around our makeshift sanctuary, distress in her gaze but also understanding. As an NYPD detective, I’m sure she’d seen some shit. I was happy someone in authority actually seemed to care. She looked to me and Dylan, saying, “I’m sorry about your friend,” and I could tell she meant it. Tears threatened to spill. I looked away with a sniff but couldn’t get the words out. Kerri didn’t press. Instead, she gestured for Hicks to follow and they left us behind.
Dylan returned the barricade after they were gone, then leaned heavily on the door. “You trust her?” she asked.
“I do,” I answered.
“Why?”
“I don’t know. There’s something about her that feels real.” I paused a beat. “Why? Do you get a different vibe?”
Dylan admitted with a shrug, “No, not really.” She pushed away from the door to curl up beside me. “But I don’t like the idea of shacking up with Hicks. What if he’s a weirdo, sex perv or something?”
“He’s not,” I said, feeling pretty confident on that score. “He’s an alcoholic who lost everything to his disease.”
“What’d you say to make him change his mind?”
I shrugged. “I guess I just reminded him that second chances at redemption don’t come often.”
“And that worked?”
I barked a short mirthless laugh. “It would seem so. Time will tell, right?”
“Yeah, guess so.”
Dylan looked to me, asking for the first time, “When you went to see your friend…what did she say when you told her what happened?”
I stared at my curled fingers. “She didn’t know what to think. I’m not sure she believed me. Lora…her life isn’t like ours. She has great parents and a bright future. I’m not even sure how we managed to stay friends this long because we have nothing in common.”
“Maybe that’s why,” Dylan said. “Opposites attract and all that shit, you know?”
I nodded. “Maybe.”
“But you wanted her to believe you.”
“Yeah. I really did.”
Dylan sighed. “Some people can’t handle anything that challenges the way they see the world. It’s not their fault, it’s just the way they’re hard-wired. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry she let you down.”
Yeah, me too. “Is Badger going to be okay with you disappearing for a few days?” I asked. “He seems territorial.”
“He’s a fucking lunatic but he doesn’t want the heat either. He knows I’ve gotta lay low for now. Besides, he knows where to find me.”
“So what does Badger have on Hicks?” I wondered.
Dylan shrugged. “Who knows. Badger never gives up his leverage or his secrets. Right now, we can’t afford to lose allies so whatever Badger’s got on Hicks, is fine by me.”
I agreed, leaning my head against hers. “Do you think we’re ever going to be free of The Avalon?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Seems pretty fucking bleak, if you ask me but I’m not the most optimistic person by nature. I want to believe that we’ve got a shot but, right now, feels kinda like we’re treading water and a tsunami is right behind us.”
Pretty accurate analogy.
Everything we were doing, maybe, in the end, none of it mattered because we were tiny spe
cks in an ocean with waves big enough to send us straight to the sandy bottom with the rest of the dead auction girls.
I shivered, not only because it was cold but because fear had a chill all its own.
All I knew was that I didn’t want to die.
All we’d wanted was a chance to live.
Why was that so wrong?
16
Living with Hicks was nearly as excruciating as living with Badger because men, at any age, didn’t seem to notice or care about things like dirty dishes, overflowing trash and hitting the toilet with their stream of morning piss so it didn’t splash all over the place like an out-of-control fire hose.
But beggars couldn’t be choosers, which was probably something I was going to get tattooed on my fucking skin because it felt such a part of my life now.
Hicks and Dylan weren’t exactly the best housemates either.
Dylan struggled with being cooped up and Hicks, couldn’t stand the way she paced the small apartment, bitching the entire time about basically, everything.
“You live like a fucking pig,” Dylan said, lifting a crusty washcloth that smelled like death from the sink. “What the fuck did you do to this?” She dropped it with disgust, wiping her hands on her jeans. “It smells like ass. Dead ass at that.”
Hicks glowered from his desk, a bottle of whiskey his equivalent of a morning cup of coffee, retorting, “Well, make yourself useful and clean something then if you’re so offended, your highness.”
I stuffed down a chuckle at the idea of Dylan being considered delicate in any way. Dylan responded with a look that could kill and left the kitchen to drop onto the sofa with a heavy exhale laced with banked frustration.
The apartment wasn’t as small as I originally thought, it was stuffed to the gills with a life spent elsewhere that had nowhere to go. Kinda like us. I tried to imagine Hicks as a responsible man with a wife and an adoring daughter but it was hard to picture the man with the bloodshot eyes and the subtle shake in his hands as anything other than the broken drunk that was trying his damnedest to claw at his redemption, no matter how slim the prospects.
In a way, Hicks wasn’t all that different from Dylan and I. We were going up against terrible odds with the same misplaced hope that we might win when everything stacked against us told a different story.
If we were an option on the race track, no one would bet on us.
Dylan swung her attention back to Hicks. The challenging look in her eyes didn’t bode well for an easy afternoon. “You ever think about your kid? Like, do you call her or anything?”
Hicks ignored Dylan’s question, which was probably smart. Dylan was being self-destructive and itching for a fight, even if it meant getting herself kicked out of the only safe place she had.
“Knock it off, Dylan,” I warned.
Hicks returned to his work and an uneasy silence returned. Watching paint dry might be more entertaining but at least I wasn’t cold and I didn’t have to crap in a bucket. One thing I’d discovered was to appreciate the little things.
I’d thought I already had that on lock but life had a way of kicking you harder when you were down to remind you how fragile your hold on everything was.
“Totally committed to the deadbeat dad life?” she continued, watching him with a small twist of her lips. “Probably a helluva lot easier than explaining why you’re a fucking drunk, huh? Addiction is a bitch.”
I rolled my eyes, irritated. “Can you shut your trap? You’re just being an asshole for no reason.”
“No reason? We’re stuck in this garbage can with nothing to do and all he does is drink himself stupid every day and stare at paperwork.” To Hicks, she added with a curled lip, “Do you even have cases or are you just staring at blank paper? Seriously, what do you do with your time? How do you pay your bills? I’m bored out of my mind and if something doesn’t change, I will burn this place down just to watch the flames.”
I held my breath, waiting for Hicks to blow up but he did the opposite. He smiled.
And I think that was more disturbing.
“You think you’re a badass?” he asked, lighting a cigarette and inhaling deeply. He spit out a tiny fleck of something, still waiting for Dylan to answer. “Trust me, kid, you ain’t shit. You think you’re something else because you’ve seen some things and that sucks for you. I feel for you but you’re just a kid at the end of the day and it wouldn’t take much to snuff out your life, which is why you’re in this position in the first place. You were easy pickings. Think about that for a minute the next minute you want to start poking at someone else’s bruises.”
I looked to Dylan, wondering if she were going to tell him to go fuck himself but she remained quiet, as if the heart of what he’d just said had punctured that hard shell and she wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.
As much as we hated to admit it, we needed the help of adults to fight the adults who were trying to kill us. We were survivors but not necessarily bad-asses, just like Hicks had pointed out.
But that knowledge made me feel small and vulnerable, which was likely the same for Dylan and I knew from experience that Dylan hated feeling either of those things.
Hicks must’ve felt bad for bringing the hammer down so hard because he sighed and leaned back in his chair, saying, “Yeah, I miss her and no, I don’t call her. Better to keep a distance if you’re not gonna do nothing but disappoint someone.”
Dylan skewed her gaze away with a short nod, murmuring, “Yeah, makes sense.”
“Any other burning questions you need to ask?”
Instead of answering, Dylan rose and announced, “I need to take a shit” before disappearing behind the bathroom door.
“You know she’s softer than she acts,” I said in Dylan’s defense. “She just doesn’t have any coping skills. She left her dad when she was eleven and she’s been on the streets ever since.”
“That’s a rough gig,” Hicks acknowledged with a grunt. “What’s the story with her old man?”
“Same as a lot of shitty parents, abusive. When it looked like he was eyeing her boobs a few too many times, Dylan knew what was probably coming and she bailed before he could follow through.”
“Takes guts to leave home that young. Most kids aren’t that brave.”
“Dylan is unlike anyone I’ve ever met. For that matter, so was Jilly.” I fell silent, a wave of grief following. How was it possible that I felt a deep hole inside my heart for a girl I’d barely known? Tana and Jilly were gone and I never really got the chance to know them for real but their loss felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.
“Yeah, you’ve been served up a shit sandwich, kid,” he agreed with another heavy sigh. “The world is full of terrible people all looking to get theirs at the expense of someone else.”
“Must’ve been hard being a cop,” I said.
“It had its moments.”
“But you miss it, don’t you?”
He grabbed the whiskey bottle with a grim, “Every damn day,” then lifted the bottle to his lips, as if acknowledging that it was the booze that took everything from him and yet, he couldn’t stop himself.
Dylan was right; addiction was a bitch.
As much as I hated to admit, watching Hicks struggle with his addiction and knowing what it’d cost him, made me a tiny bit more sympathetic to Carla, but only by the thinnest margin. I didn’t think that if Carla was straight and sober she’d be less of a shit person. The alcohol just enhanced what was already there.
A knock at the door had us both tense. Hicks, even as a drunk, was a formidable ally. He motioned for me to stay put as he grabbed a gun from a hidden spot beneath his desk and approached the door with practiced caution. “Who is it?” he called out.
“It’s Pope.”
I breathed a sigh of relief, shocked at how fear had instantly drenched my skin and dried up all the spit in my mouth. I rose on shaky legs to grab a glass of water as Hicks let Kerri in.
She entered the apartment
holding a bag. Looking my way, she said, “You up for a field trip?” as she tossed the bag to the couch. Curious, I went to the bag and peered inside. I pulled out two wigs and new hoodies. Kerri said, “There are also sunglasses. No sense in making things easy for the fuckers looking for you.”
Dylan came from the bathroom, wiping her wet hands on her jeans. “What’s that?”
I lifted up the wigs. “Do you prefer blonde or brunette?”
“No way,” Dylan grinned in surprise, coming to grab the blonde wig. “I’ve always wondered if I could pull off this color.”
I twirled the cheap brunette mop made of synthetic hair and chuckled. “Guess that means I’m going dark.”
“What’s this for?” Dylan asked, pulling the wig over her head and tucking the errant dark hair beneath it. I followed suit and did the same. Dylan approved. “You look good as a brunette.”
I smiled. “Good to know.”
Kerri said, “I need you to come to my office to look at the database. I can’t exactly have you waltzing into the station looking like yourselves but the only way to access the system is through the closed network.”
“Which means we get to go on a field trip,” I said.
Kerri nodded. “Pretty much.”
Dylan was ready. “Count me in. This place is giving me hives.”
“You sure this is a good idea?” Hicks asked, frowning. “You think it’s not going to go unnoticed you bringing in two teens to your office?”
“I’ll handle it. Besides, the precinct is practically a ghost town right now. Between vacation scheduling and recent retirements, we’ve been running a skeleton crew. We’re short-staffed as fuck. No one is going to be paying attention to what I’m doing because they’ve got their own shit to worry about. Caseloads are ridiculous and everyone’s just trying to keep their heads above water.”
He grunted, appeased by Kerri’s answer like he was some overprotective dad or something. I shifted against the odd feeling of having someone care about my welfare. I mean, Lora’s dad played the part sometimes but most times it just felt like he was supposed to act that way, not because he really felt concerned about me. Maybe I was just an asshole I didn’t know how to accept someone’s help but for whatever reason, Hicks’ concern felt real.