by Smoke, Lucy
I put my hand up, stopping him. "Wait? Nondisclosure agreement? What?"
"Miss Hampton, this program is very beneficial to those who are accepted," Principal Wiggins assured me.
"I'm sure that's very true," I replied respectfully, "but I can't afford it."
"Everything will be paid for."
The words 'paid for' fluttered through my mind like free range birds, chirping and nipping at my wants and desires. I could have some sort of degree. Get a better job. Maybe a car. Better medication and doctors for my mom.
"Paid for," I repeated. Maybe I really was being pranked.
"I've already talked to you about the program, Harlow." Bellamy leaned forward, a strand of his long, dark hair escaping the band that kept most of it held together. "I'm here because you are a perfect candidate. You would start right away. We would even be able to pay you for your studies and interests in us. Much more than what you make at Alex's Diner."
"How do you know where I work?"
Stupid question. Alex probably was fairly popular and he only had so many employees. He had already admitted to me once that he bragged about me like his own daughter. On top of that, I didn't live in a large town, anyone could see me at any time walking to and from work.
"Never mind." I shook my head. "It doesn't matter." I took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry, Mr. Woodstone–" The look in his eyes was incendiary. "Bellamy," I corrected. "I just can't be sure what I'm getting into until I get more information. How do I know that the program you're offering won't tie me up for several years in requirements? There are scholarships that do that."
He nodded, the molten heat in his eyes gone and replaced by sweet warmth. "I've asked Principal Wiggins to give you as much information as he can. I'm going to step out of the room for a moment. When you're done talking, I'll take you home."
"You don't have to. I'm sure I can get–"
The fire returned. "I'll take you home," he repeated. I closed my mouth and nodded, mute.
"Alright then, I'll be out in the front office with Mrs. Donovan." Bellamy stood and strode to the door, opening the wooden panel, stepping through before he let it swing shut, leaving me alone with Principal Wiggins and a hell of a lot of baffled thoughts.
"Harlow." The air conditioner kicked on, cool air blowing into the room. "I think you should consider Mr. Woodstone's offer."
"I don't know." It was really hard to sit there, stare my principal in the face, and tell him no.
I listened as Principal Wiggins talked about missed opportunities and opening and closing doors, and I continued to nod my head at the appropriate intervals. Minutes ticked by.
"So, please, Harlow. Please give this a shot." Did I really have a choice?
"I don't really think his program is the best fit for me," I said.
"This is one of the biggest opportunities you might receive. I promise, Harlow. I've known Mr. Woodstone for many years now. He's a good boy – man." Principal Wiggins smiled. "He's a good man. You'll be in good hands."
"Can you tell me anything else about the program?" I asked. "I promise I'll consider it, but I need to know what it is."
Principal Wiggins leaned back in his chair, the wig on his head shifting. "I know that the program is very selective," he replied. "And just because you say yes, doesn't necessarily mean that they'll accept you later on. They'll have you take a test of some sort, I've been told it's different per person. Some take physical tests, some written, and some a combination. They want to make sure that everyone they accept into the program is right for it. The program is tailored to each person and there are teams. I don't know exactly what each team does, but I do know it's significant work." Principal Wiggins nodded his head in thought. "Bellamy has been in the program for a few years now. He used to be such a quiet boy. He's really come out of his shell since he joined. It's done him a world of good." He looked at me. "They won't keep you if you don't want to be there. The agreement is just to keep everything they tell you confidential."
Somehow, in the midst of his impassioned promises and the dropping temperature in the room, my brain must have frozen over. Because somewhere along the conversation, I felt my mouth opening and my voice saying, "Okay."
"I'll give it a try." Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe they had people to help my mom. Maybe I could get a better job, take public transportation, and earn enough for a car. Maybe things could be better. I wanted them to be better.
"You won't regret this," Principal Wiggins said. I hoped he was right.
Chapter 5
My skin was cold and clammy from sitting under the air-conditioning unit in the conference room for too long. Bellamy didn't comment as he led me back out into the office lobby with a hand on my arm.
I dragged my gaze across the floor, memorizing each thread of the carpet that hadn't been replaced in well over thirty years. Grayson lounged back in the same chair we had left him in, with his legs straight and crossed at the ankles. The moment I stepped through the doorway, he smiled and straightened.
He stood, moving towards me. "Thanks,” he said. One heavy arm swung over my shoulders, dislodging Bellamy's hand. "I'll take her home."
I moved my hands to his fingers, laying precariously close to my breast – which he didn’t appear aware of – and gripped the digits tightly before maneuvering out from under his grasp. I dropped his hand and frowned at him.
"No. Thank you," I snapped. "I'll walk." I stepped away from him and grabbed my bag from the chair beside us.
"No, you won't." The distraction of Grayson was overshadowed by Bellamy's deep rumble. "I will be driving you home. Though she appreciates the offer, Mr. Caruso, it won't be necessary." My eyes widened as Bellamy used Grayson's last name in much the same formal fashion as Principal Wiggins, edged with authority though Bellamy's tone was layered with disdain.
"Are you sure that won't threaten your job?" Grayson's eyes narrowed as he studied Bellamy. "I didn't know male teachers could give their female students rides. I wonder what the school board would think of that."
Bellamy grinned, but it was a decidedly unfriendly facial expression. The stretch of his mouth was a quirk that made him seem more like an unyielding feral animal.
"Lucky for me, I'm not a teacher, Mr. Caruso.” The bite in Bellamy’s tone as he spoke was enough to make my eyes widen. “Harlow, this way, please."
I followed, refusing to peek over my shoulder at Grayson's expression as we left the office. I chose, instead, to focus ahead. Bellamy held the door for me as we walked out into the abandoned hallway, and did the same when we reached the glass doors leading into the staff parking lot.
As we stepped outside, the temperature skyrocketed at least fifteen degrees, heating my cold skin and causing sweat to form across my shoulders and forearms before we even reached his car. The humidity swept over me, a daunting wave of heat-drenched air.
Bellamy unbuttoned his suit jacket, peeling the material off his shoulders and reaching up to loosen his tie as he unfastened the top button of his pristine, white dress-shirt. The clothes didn't fit him, in my opinion. They were too constraining, like bindings meant to cage rather than clothe. The new grin he flashed my way was much more relaxed.
"This is me," he said, as we stopped in front of a familiar BMW. I halted in front of it, the strap of my bag almost sliding off.
"This is–"
"Yup," he said before I could finish. "Marv was very upset with you when you jumped out in the road." His low rumble proclaimed his agreement with Marv's feelings.
"You were there," I said, speaking my realization aloud. "You were the one driving." I stared at him over the hood as he opened the passenger side door.
"Please get in." He gestured to the car. "It's hot out here, I'd like to get some air conditioning going before I start to stink in this monkey suit."
I slid into the seat and he closed the door behind me. The dashboard was littered with various screens and buttons – all excessively high tech. I curled my hands into my lap,
trying not to touch any of it, sure I would break the first thing I came into contact with. The driver's side door opened and Bellamy's arm shot out as he tossed the jacket into the back seat. He sat and began rolling up his sleeves, revealing dark ink lines.
"You have tattoos?"
"Just the one so far," he replied, rotating his arm so that I could better see the design. A deep green stem grew out from his inner elbow that blossomed into a deep purple flower with pouting petals. "I had it done overseas. It's designed with a thicker needle. Would you like to feel it?"
"What kind of flower is it?" I heard myself ask as I tentatively reached out to touch the markings.
"It's an iris blossom," he replied. His skin was warm and rough against my palm. I followed the lines with a finger, stroking the raised impressions the needle had left in his skin. It was beautifully done.
"I like it."
He smiled, a wide smile that bled into his eyes, making them sparkle. "I'm glad." He pulled away and started the car.
"How do you know Marv?" I asked. "Does that mean you know Knix too?"
"Yes, I do," he answered as he backed out of the parking space.
I glanced at the window. "Are we going to see them?"
"Not yet."
"Where are we going?" The car slowed at a stop sign.
"I'm taking you home."
I knew I needed to get home, but still, I had to will myself not to be disappointed. I couldn't stop the question that sprang from my lips. "You’re serious?"
Maybe it wasn’t smart to wish he was driving me anywhere but straight back to my house, yet curiosity had me. There were suddenly so many questions I wanted to ask. I just didn’t know how to phrase them. A car ride to my house was too short for me to be able to even skim the surface of all the answers I needed.
He peered at me as he made the turn.
"Of course I’m serious. Are you going to tell me where you live or should I surprise you?"
I liked a challenge. "Surprise me." His lips twitched, but his eyes smiled.
"As you wish." I grinned. Princess Bride references I could totally get on board with.
Bellamy leaned forward and pressed the radio button. Soft indie music drifted into the cab. I listened to the low hum of the emotional lyrics, thinking that they suited him. If I was being honest, Bellamy was already an enigma to me. He could have just as likely turned on heavy metal and I would have thought the same.
"Do you mind?" he asked, nodding towards the music.
I shook my head and he relaxed, his shoulders pushing back into the seat as he adjusted and stretched out a bit more. I tried to imagine Knix in his position, though I wasn't sure why, and I found the image amusing. He was much too big to fit in such a small car. He probably had to have his cars custom made, as well as his clothes, the doorways in his house, and more.
I drifted, watching trees, buildings, parks, and people all go by in the window like a television show without any one main character. I wondered what it would feel like in the driver's seat. In control. I had never seen this kind of show from that side of the car. I was always the passenger, just along for the ride.
Bellamy drove the car, handling the beast like it was a sweet animal under his care. When he hit the interstate, he slid into pre-five o'clock traffic. I tried to distract myself, reading the license plates that passed us. Being so close to the ocean, so close to a port city and tourist bedrock, I wasn't surprised to spot a few northern states fly by.
It wasn't until we had passed a few exit signs that I began to get antsy. How far could he be taking me? I think Bellamy sensed my apprehension because after a quick glance my way, he reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, and passed it over to me.
"I don't need your phone," I said and at the same time he asked, "Can you send a text for me?"
Of course, I thought. He wasn't giving me his phone. That would be stupid. My cheeks tightened with embarrassment. He smiled as I slid the lock across the screen to open it.
"Um...who do you want to send a text to?"
"Alex." He clicked his blinker on and navigated the BMW's front end into the fast lane. How much farther did we need to travel? This definitely wasn't the way home. Another concern hooked my brain when I realized what he said.
"You know Alex?"
The blinker clicked off.
"We all know Alex. I'm sure Knix has told you."
"I know Knix knows Alex, and I know that you know Marv." I paused, thinking about his words before I continued. "Is there anyone else I know that you know? Do you know Erika?"
If Bellamy knew Marv well enough to drive his expensive car – at least, I assumed it was Marv's car, he seemed more likely to own a BMW – and Marv and Knix knew each other, and Knix knew Alex, odds were that they were all buddy-buddy and Alex had just neglected to tell me so. Then again, it's not like I was one of his close confidants. Still, it stung to be left out of the loop.
"Your friend, Erika?" He reached up and turned the radio off. "No, I don't know her. Although I do have a few files on her. We wanted to know how close you two were."
Was he kidnapping me? Principal Wiggins said I was in good hands. "We're very close. She'll want to know where I am. I should text her too. Can you tell me where we're going now?"
He grimaced. "It's not a secret, Harlow, but I would prefer you didn't tell her. Don't worry, I'll have you home in time to be in bed before your shift tomorrow. You did say I could surprise you."
"I lowered the phone to my lap. How do you know about my work schedule?"
"I know Alex, Sweetheart, remember?" His smile stretched across his lips when he laughed. It was a good laugh, like he was genuinely amused. "He's your boss and I asked."
"He shouldn't give out information like that," I harrumphed, picking up his phone again as I pressed myself back in my seat.
I slid open the lock pad again and found the message icon leading to his text messages.
"You have a new text," I said looking down at the sender's name. "Who's Texas? Is that like a nickname or something?"
What parent names their kid after a state? I considered this and immediately thought of all the parents that name their children after cities and countries. Those poor Brooklyns, Londons, Chinas, Dakotas, oh my.
"Not a nickname, it's his real name. Here, give it to me, I'll take care of it."
"No!" I jerked the phone as far away from him as I could. "You're driving. I'm not letting you text. I'll send it, just tell me what you want to write."
"Fine." His smile disappeared. "What did he say?"
“It says, ‘Are you bringing the package?’” I relayed the message, curious about the way his jaw tightened.
"Tell him that I'll be delivering the package within the next hour."
I squinted at him, expecting him to crack a smile, but he didn't tell me he was joking. I had assumed he would be with me for the next hour, but maybe we would be done by then. I shrugged and typed out a quick, shortened version.
Bellamy:In another hour.
The response was almost instantaneous.
Texas:Who the hell is this and where is Bell?
I glanced at Bellamy, before typing my reply.
Bellamy:My name is Harlow, I'm riding with Bellamy. He's driving right now, asked me to text for him.
The wait was slightly longer this time, but no more than a few minutes before the phone was buzzing in my lap again.
Texas:Where are you?
I looked out the window and scrunched my eyes as we passed the next green exit sign. I caught the sign number and turned back to the phone.
Bellamy:We just passed exit 98.
Texas:You'll be here soon. Thank you.
Bellamy:What about your package?
Texas:Don't worry about it.
I dropped the phone. Who was this guy? I peered at Bellamy.
"What did he say?" he asked.
"Nothing." I grabbed the phone. ”Do you still want me to text Alex?” I asked, my hand hovering ove
r the phone. He shook his head and I placed it in the console between us.
"Awful lot of typing for nothing to say," he mused, ignoring my question. I guess he didn’t need to text Alex anymore. Bellamy steered the BMW back into one of the slower lanes. "She handles beautifully, doesn't she?" He angled forward to rub one hand on the dashboard. "Marv knows I'll treat her well, so I'm the only one aside from him allowed to drive her. Although if Texas or Knix really needed this baby, he wouldn't say no."
I didn't comment on my own previous thoughts, but I was smug knowing that I was correct in my assumption that this car was Marv's.
"Bet she carries a lot of packages for you, huh?" The remark was met with a few moments of quiet.
"Not usually, no."
"Somehow, though, I don't believe you." I turned away from him, glaring out the window.
"I know you're confused, Harlow, but please remember what Charles told you."
I wrinkled my nose. "Charles?"
"Principal Wiggins," he explained. "I'm not a bad guy, Sweetheart." He peered over at me beseechingly. "Texas isn't either. You might like him. Don't worry, we're good people."
"Who is we, Bellamy?" The sound of his name rolling off my tongue felt comfortable and odd at the same time.
"I'll tell you when we get there." He refocused on the road, flicking his blinker again, to the right this time, and maneuvering onto a narrow stretch of road with two lanes.
"As long as I'm not going to be trussed up like a turkey when I get there and ransomed off," I grumbled.
"Sweetheart, you don't have any money." He sounded frustrated, exasperated. I could relate and it just made me want to pummel him. Not that it would do much good. He was a lot bigger than me and the one time I had hit someone, I didn't even know how to hold my fist. I stroked my thumb in apology for earlier and it throbbed in response. "It's part of the reason why we picked you. We have something to offer you." I opened my mouth again but he spoke before I could utter a word. "No, please, no more questions. Wait until we get there."