He sighs, shoving the envelopes away. “I’m sorry, okay?”
“Huh?”
“I know I was being a jerk to Brady. I’m not gonna bite your head off, so you don’t have to be so quiet. I just …” He practically crumbles onto the counter. “Damn, I’m just so sick of this.”
“I …” I’m not sure what to say. Seth never shows weakness, but it looks like he’s about to break in two.
“I can’t do this anymore, Fiona. The only reason my dad still has a job is because I make sure he’s dressed every morning. He’d rather spend all day in his room than talk to us. I’ve done everything I can think of to make things better, and nothing works.” He looks up at me, and I can almost see him sucking in his feelings, putting the pride back in place. “So, sorry. I’m not mad at you.”
I look down. “That’s not why I was being quiet.”
“Oh.” Seth and I seem to have become masters of the awkward silence. “Then what?”
“I texted Miles this morning, and he hasn’t answered yet. I’m worried something happened to him. I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t want to stress you out more.”
He lets out a little laugh. “Well, aren’t we a pair.”
I manage a smile. “Our families are jacked up.”
“And there’s nothing we can do about it.”
“Ugh.” I run a hand over my face. I’m sick of this, too. I’m sick of living in fear, sick of worrying myself to death, sick of being so helpless. Just thinking about stewing all day makes me tired. This itch runs through my bones, like I might snap if I don’t move. “Seth.”
“Hmm?”
“Let’s get out of here. We could drive to that movie theater in Saguro and get lunch after or something.”
His cheeks go pink. “What?”
“We both have stuff we need to forget for a while. So let’s just have fun.”
He purses his lips. “But we were supposed to put in the floors today.”
“Lame excuse. Brady can do that himself. Just leave a note.” The more I think about this, the better I feel. Get out. Run away. Forget. I just want to hang out with Seth and not think about what could be waiting for me at the house. This could be the last day I ever see him, and I have to know if what I’m feeling is real.
“I don’t know. He might not do it right, and then I’ll have to—”
“Oh, c’mon!” I stand up, grab his arm, and head for the door. “We both deserve one day of slacking off.”
He pulls back. “That was last night.”
“Seth Mitchell.” I put my hands on my hips. “Stop being so anal. When was the last time you did anything for yourself?”
“Fiona …”
I can tell he doesn’t even know the answer. He’s doing everything he possibly can to take care of the people he loves. He never thinks about himself. It’s always give, give, give until he’s got nothing left but fatigue and agitation.
All I want to do is make him smile.
My hands drop off my hips. “Just come, okay?” I look at Bea’s flip-flops on my feet. “Can’t you hang out with me today?”
He lets out a long sigh. “Fine.”
“Really?”
He goes back to the counter, scribbles something on a piece of paper. “C’mon.”
On the way down, Seth cranks the radio, and I let my fingers hang out the window. The air catches them, and I move my hand up and down like I’m making waves. Today it doesn’t feel like the sun is trying to melt me to death. The desert is perfect as winter approaches, cool mornings and warm afternoons. Just staring out at the distant mesas puts me at ease.
We don’t say much, but there’s this freedom in the air I can’t get over. My problems are falling further behind every second. Madison isn’t even in sight anymore, just endless desert. I almost want to ask Seth to keep driving until the tank runs dry.
The Saguro movie theater is a tacky dollar place that looks about eighty years old, but I don’t care. I haven’t gone to a movie in forever—not since Miles was living at home. And the place is empty this early in the day, so I can put my feet up on the seat in front of me.
“Man, this movie’s lame,” Seth says about fifteen minutes in.
“Shut up.” We picked the only comedy, figuring we should keep with the fun theme of this outing. It’s about some ultragifted guys trying to go undercover as normal—hilarity supposedly ensues. “That joke was … totally not obvious.”
He smiles. “Ten bucks that guy falls in a vat of something at some point.”
“Twenty if it’s chocolate.”
“You’re on.” He laughs, which I hope means he’s actually having a good time. I am, too, even more now that he’s smiling. Then he bumps my elbow on the armrest. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize …”
“No worries.” That tingling thing is back. I can’t believe how much I like being with him now, and I have to know if the feeling’s mutual. I take a deep breath. “You know, we don’t have to fight for the armrest. I think we’ve learned how to share.”
He looks at me, clearly surprised. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea—maybe I’m totally misreading him—but then he smiles. His arm slides up against mine, and he leans in a little. “Look at us, getting along.”
I smile. Being this close to him is electrifying, and I find myself wishing he’d hold my hand. “We better find coats, because hell has probably frozen over.”
“And umbrellas, because flying pigs drop some serious shit.”
I laugh louder at that than anything that’s happened in the movie.
The rest of the show is lame, but it doesn’t matter because criticizing it is half the fun. It’s almost like a game, with Seth and I competing for best snarky comment.
“He got hot fudge poured on him! That should count!” I protest as we leave the theater.
Seth shakes his head. “But the vat was marshmallow. You owe me lunch.”
My shoulders slump. “Fine.”
We decide to walk to the diner, since getting in the hot truck and driving there would be more uncomfortable. The perfect weather makes me want to go for a long run.
“So, train one is going fifty miles an hour—” Seth starts.
“No!” I shove him. “Math is not fun. We’re not doing math today.”
He smirks. “But I think math is fun, and we still have to figure out how to get you to pass that test.”
The test is the last thing on my mind at this point. “Why do you like math so much? I mean, you’re good at it, yay, but I’m good at robbing jewelry stores, and I certainly don’t love that.”
He laughs, though I didn’t realize I was being funny. “Math is … I don’t know.”
“C’mon, you do, too.”
He sighs. “Fine. It’s the answers, okay?”
“Answers?” I look up at him, realizing just how tall he is. For most guys I don’t have to crane my neck.
“Yeah.” He chews the inside of his cheek. “Once you know the rules, there’s always an answer to an equation. All you have to do is follow the steps and then, just like that, you have an answer.”
“I see…” I don’t see.
He rolls his eyes. “Liar.”
I wish I could stick my tongue out or something. “Just keep talking, jerk.”
He doesn’t for a second, and I wonder if I’ve pushed him one step too far. It’s not like he talks about himself all the time. But then he takes a breath. “I can’t fix anything in my real life, not Dad or Brady or … myself. Math has answers. I can fix any problem in math. So sue me if I like it.”
I smile. “I guess I can understand that, but I still hate it.”
A diner is in sight, one that had to be built in the fifties by the look of its old sign and retro style. There’s even a classic motorcycle parked out front, one that reminds me of …
“You don’t have to like it, you just have to—”
I put my hand on Seth’s arm. “Wait.”
“What?”
I gu
lp as I scan the diner’s windows. I’m being paranoid. There are probably hundreds of electric-blue motorcycles in the Southwest. Just because there happens to be one here doesn’t mean he’s here.
“Fiona, you’re freaking me out. What?”
I freeze when I look in the farthest window to the left. Graham’s there, sipping his usual beer, but that’s not the worst part. He’s there with a man I’d recognize anywhere. Curly hair, fair skin, and an aura reeking of power and money. I turn around immediately, dragging Seth with me.
“Will you tell me what the hell is going on?”
“My … my …” I feel sick, but my legs propel me forward. Run. Just run. “My dad’s in there.”
Chapter 25
Seth doesn’t say another word as we sprint for his truck, and I’m glad. I don’t think I can explain or even speak in an intelligible manner. My dad’s right there. If he’d looked out the window, he would have seen me. Everything I have here would have been over the second I breathed in his scent.
“Where to?” Seth asks when we jump in the truck.
I’m surprised that I know the exact place I need to go. “My house.”
His eyes go wide. “Are you kidding? Don’t you want to get out of here? I can drive you to Tucson or something; you can hop a train or a bus to anywhere from there.”
It makes sense, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to on some level. But I can’t.
“I have to get Miles and my mom out if I can. Maybe we can beat Graham home if they just started lunch. I can’t leave Miles. I … can’t leave her.”
The truth of it hits me. We might not have the best relationship in the world, but she’s still my mom. What little freedom I’ve had I owe to her, and I’ve never even said thanks. So I have to at least try.
“All right.” Seth revs the engine. “I’ll drive as fast as this piece of junk can go.”
That would be approximately seventy-one miles an hour. The truck shudders down the long stretch of road, and I tell myself it’s fast enough. If I don’t, then I’ll be too scared to go back. I don’t have time to second-guess myself.
I pull out my phone to text Miles.
Call me, please.
I can’t text the details, in case Dad is already spying on our words remotely. But it doesn’t matter, because he still doesn’t text me back. Hugging my knees to my chest, I can’t help but think the worst.
But even if it is a trap, I still have to go.
Maybe I can sneak in and free them. It’s not like I’m completely helpless. I have lots of training, and kidnapping shouldn’t be much harder than stealing, especially if the people want to be stolen.
We pull up to my house. Everything looks normal. Miles’s car is parked in the driveway; the blinds are all shut tight. No extra vehicles, no evidence of what might be happening inside.
“Are you sure about this?” Seth asks.
I take a deep breath. “Stay here.”
“What? No way.” His brows are set low over his eyes.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Look, I appreciate the chivalry and all, but you can’t get mixed up in this any more than you are. It’s better if you just go home and forget about everything.”
Then if I get taken, everybody else will be safe. It’ll be like I was never here. If I have to leave, that’s how I want to go.
“It’ll be fine.” He turns off the truck and gets out.
“Wait!” I follow him to my door, blocking it. “You are not coming.”
“Yes, I am. You asked me to help you figure this out.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I asked you to help me find a place to stay! I didn’t ask you to throw yourself in harm’s way.”
“Isn’t it the same thing? Aren’t I already in danger?”
I pause, angry that he has me. “Just … don’t talk. It’s bad enough if anyone sees your face.”
He straightens, his full height almost intimidating if he weren’t so thin. “Fine.”
I reluctantly open the door. The cold air seems fitting for the empty living room. I step in slowly, scanning the dark. There’s not a single sign of life. Not even coffee in the coffeemaker. My heart beats harder. They’re not here. They really did get taken. Graham and Dad were probably celebrating, or plotting how to find me. I force myself to keep looking, since I don’t have solid proof yet.
“What’s that?” Seth whispers.
“I thought I told you not to talk.”
“I know, but … is that music?”
I stop in the hall, trying to listen over the blowing air conditioner. There is something, and a flicker of hope rushes through me. I head for the garage door, ripping it open.
Mom’s hippie-dippie music blares out. She bobs her head as she waves her graceful hands. A clay pot twirls in mid-air, growing at her will.
I sigh in relief. At least she’s not tied up. Maybe we still have a chance. “Mom!”
She jumps, spinning around. But her eyes don’t find me; they zero in on Seth. “Fiona! Who’s this?”
“Is Miles here?”
She sets down her pot. “I think he’s still sleeping. Is something wrong? You sound worried.”
“I saw Dad.”
“What?” she shrieks.
I run to the guest room, part relieved and part angry that Miles slept through both my messages. Mom follows, begging me to explain, but I’d rather not have to repeat myself. I push my brother’s door open and throw on the light.
Miles shoots up. “Damn, Fiona, where’s the fire?”
I toss him a shirt. “We have to go. I saw Dad in Saguro.”
His eyes go wide. “Shit.”
Mom shakes her head. “There has to be some kind of mistake. What were you doing in Saguro anyway?” She eyes Seth, and my face heats up.
“I saw his bike, and then I saw him through the diner window eating lunch with Graham.”
“I knew it.” Miles pulls the shirt over his head. “I’m gonna kill him.”
“No …” Mom puts her hand over her heart, like the information is physically painful. “There must be an explanation. He said—”
“He was lying, Mom!” I stamp my foot, frustrated that even with so much proof she believes Graham over me. “I told you he was bad! But we can get out of here. We still have time.”
Miles stands. “I have a full tank. If we leave right now, we can at least get a head start.”
Mom wipes a tear from her face. “Graham said to stay here at all costs. He said he’d protect this house.”
My chest tightens, but this time it isn’t anger. It’s sadness. She’s so messed up. After all those years of being manipulated, how could she not be?
“Mom, he lied.”
“He didn’t! Why would he keep us safe this long just to turn us in? Why would he get me a job? Make sure my employers keep quiet? It doesn’t make sense.”
“No, it doesn’t, but there has to be some kind of reason.” Miles folds his arms. “Whatever it is, it’s not good.”
“You’re wrong!” Mom holds back tears. “It’s always been you two against Graham, but he’s not a monster. He’s my son—your brother. He wouldn’t give us all of this just to take it away. He was probably distracting your father from looking in this area. They weren’t here.”
I can’t believe she’s doing this. I thought maybe she had changed, that I’d misjudged her. “You really do want to go back, don’t you?”
She stares at me, searching for my eyes. “No.”
“You’re hoping Dad comes here! You want him to find you, because that means he still loves you.” I force my hands to stay at my sides, so they don’t find anything to hit. “News flash, Mom. He doesn’t love you. He never has! I don’t care if you love him—you’re just a tool!”
Her mouth drops open, but she doesn’t say anything.
“He doesn’t want you back because he misses you. He wants you back because he needs your ability to pad his pockets. He … doesn’t want me, either.” The thought
hurts, even if I don’t want it to. “He wants his invisible henchman.”
Mom looks at her hands, the hands that have stolen millions. “You think I don’t know that?”
“Then let’s go while we can.” I hold out my hand. “Please, Mom.”
She stares at my sleeve, and then runs a hand through her wild hair. “Fiona, I can’t. That’s not—”
“Fine. I get it.” I want to scream—she’s being such an idiot—but at the same time I fight back tears. Suddenly I understand what Seth was saying about answers. No matter what I do, I can’t fix my mom even if I try. But she’s not dragging me down with her. Not this time. “I’m out of here. Have fun with Dad.”
I head to my room and grab the biggest bag I have. I can feel Seth behind me, but he doesn’t say anything. Miles, on the other hand, does. “Where are you going?”
“Either with you or back to Bea’s, I guess.” I hate taking advantage of the Navarros’s hospitality, but it’s the only other place I feel safe.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like you to stay with The Pack. I have … a contact I need to see, and she doesn’t like strangers.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “Who?”
“Fi.” Miles’s face is so serious it scares me. He hardly seems like the brother I know. “You know who.”
“Spud?” It comes out in a whisper, as if even my voice can’t believe he personally knows the most infamous hacker alive.
He nods. “I have an idea, but I don’t know if it’ll work until I talk to her.”
“What about Mom?” I hate the idea of leaving her, but what else can I do?
“I’ll stay with her today, see if I can convince her it’s not safe. Hopefully Dad won’t show up.”
“Please just go now.” I shove in every dress I brought. Forget pants. “I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt for not telling them where I am.”
“I don’t know where you’re going, do I? So there’s really no reason for a beating.”
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